Chapter 2

SABLE

“T-Touch myself?”

I didn't understand what he meant.

“You heard me correctly, Miss Parisol.” He stroked his mask lightly—placing his left hand on his growing bulge. “I'm afraid I'm very pent up tonight. Kindly strip, and touch yourself.”

I swallowed, leading my fingers to the straps of my dress. Madam Lior had warned me not to act like a novice. A stiff fake smile stretched my lips.

“Ofcourse, Mister X.”

I took off my heels, then my dress, then my inner gown until I was left in only a matching pair of red lace-lingerie. I looked around, there were no toys. The girls had mentioned that he usually kept an array of toys for foreplay, but I couldn't see anything.

“Mister X.” He looked up. “Where are the—”

“Toys?” He leaned forward, simultaneously uncrossing his legs. “Use your fingers, Miss Parisol.”

My fingers.

I was no stranger to the act of masturbating, but I was no professional to it either. The least I had done in years was squeeze my thighs together whenever an explicit movie got a little too intense.

“Is there something wrong?”

I shook my head.

“Ofcourse not.” I climbed the king sized bed and leaned against the headboard before he could suspect anything. Come on, Sable. You just have to pretend to want this. I parted my legs and placed a pillow in front, to block his view.

He would take it for a tease.

I knew that it was the only thing that would be covering my sensitive place.

Both his hands were gloved. But after I heard the sound of a belt coming apart and hitting the ground, he took the glove off his right hand and revealed a wide palm with long fingers. I attempted to turn my eyes away when his palm wrist dipped past his waist line, but he wouldn't have any of that.

He snapped his fingers.

“Watch, Miss Parisol.”

There was something about that sentence. Hypnotic and commanding. I couldn't bring myself to look away.

His fingers curled around something and his grey eyes darkened under the dim chandelier. A broken noise left his lips. He cupped something, and then he gripped it like a vice.

“It's been so long…” He groaned. I watched his pants get even more loose and his bulge—even bigger. His hands moved fast and eventually phased into a blur of movements my eyes couldn't keep up with. It was enthralling.

I hadn't realized when my hand crawled treacherously behind the pillow until a wetness coated my fingertips. My lips had involuntarily widened a fraction and Mister X’s eyes remained fixated on my expression.

“There you go.” He murmured and a fresh wave coated my fingers. “Slowly Miss Parisol. Draw stiff circles around your bud.”

His eyes didn't wander anywhere else. Just my face.

I drew a finger on my pantie, right where my clit was pulsing against the lace.

“Ah!”

It felt like a jolt of electricity.

His groans became more prominent, rocking the walls of the suite. His hands moved fast, and then they stopped.

He rose from the seat and walked to the edge of the bed.

“Come.” He gestured. “I want to see you, up close.” My throat worked but I obeyed nonetheless. Crawling to the edge to meet him. “Good girl.” His fingers curled around my chin, coaxing me until my face was level with his torso.

His thumb caressed my lip before taking a quick swipe at the lipstick, almost like he knew it was too sticky for me.

“Better.”

His fingers threaded my hair—well my wig. He knew.

“Want to take it off?”

Madam Lior had warned me not to take any of my disguises off.

“No.”

His grip became a little firmer.

“Open your mouth for me.”

I blinked.

“Mm?”

He placed a thumb on my lip, then slowly pried a gap and slotted his thumb in. It was cold, hard. I couldn't move, I had never had someone else's finger in my mouth before. I used my head, repeating what I saw in movies.

My lips closed around his thumb in a suction-ready motion. My teeth grazed the flesh just short of lightly. The faint taste of liquor seeped into my taste buds.

In nothing shorter than a minute, I had his thumb buried to the hilt in my mouth. It seemed to spur him on because the tent in his pants only got bigger.

I had the sudden urge to see what made the tent.

“Wait—” He snatched away the pillow. A brow of his arched so dangerously I sucked the words back in. “Nevermind.” I bit down on my lip in flush embarrassment that if he looked down he would see how damp my underwear had gotten.

He did look down.

But he didn't only look.

His left hand travelled lower until I felt his fingers cup my folds. I swallowed and counted sheep in my head, closing my eyes through the feeling of my underwear being parted to the side and a finger running up and down my slit.

A shiver ran through me when he parted my pussy lips with two fingers.

“Seeing my cock can wait.” He rasped. Withdrawing and taking his thumb out of my mouth. Before I could inquire about the sudden change of his mind, my back collided with the sheets and my legs were held apart by my ankles.

“What are you doing?” His upper body found its way between my thighs and his knees met the ground.

“This.”

His hands hooked into my waistband on cue and pulled my underwear down to my ankles, taking them off completely and tossing them somewhere on the ground. I gasped and shut my legs tight.

His lips nipped at my heel, then trailed a path upwards.

“Is playing coy part of your act, Miss Parisol?” He gripped my thighs and held them apart. “Because you're playing it very well.”

“I…I…”

Before I could croak out a full sentence, his lips suctioned around my cunt and took a long wet swipe at my clit.