Page 24 of A Ballad of Betrayal and Beauty

“Well, I . . . what do you plan to do with me, then?”

There’s a long pause where I hear him take a deep breath in and out. “You,” he begins, his voice dropping deeper. “Youare going to entertainme.”

Well, this is new. “Am I?”

“Do you want to please me?” he asks.

I take a deep breath. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Oh, so it’s like that. “Yes, Baby.”

He chuckles, and I can almost see a smile. An unidentified chiseled jaw, full lips hiding gleaming white teeth, a grin like a predator who caught me in his trap.

“Get on your knees,” he says.

While I’m under no obligation to actually play out the scenarios I voice, something throbs inside of me, wanting to obey. But I blink and shake my head.Don’t be stupid, Dusty.This is all pretend. Never forget that.

I lick my lips. “You like seeing me on my knees, Baby?”

“Such a gorgeous little slut you are.”

My mouth drops open and my breath hitches.

“But you’re so far away. I want to see those tits up close.”

“Baby?”

“Riddle me this,” he says, and I hear him moving, something like blankets rustling in the background. He must be lying in his bed. “How does a filthy whore get from one end of the room to the cock at the other?”

I swallow hard. “She crawls.”

Another chuckle, darker this time, with an edge to it. “Tell me.”

“I place my hands in front of me, my breasts are heavy as they hang. Then I crawl, one hand and knee moving at a time.”

He groans.

“My nipples are so sensitive. Every time my breasts swing, they tingle until they’re hard.”

“Is it painful?” he asks.

I shake my head even though he can’t see it. “Yes. But I’ll be your good little whore. I won’t complain. I don’t want to be punished.”

“Something else is getting hard and painful,” he says with a hitch to his voice.

My eyes close and I picture the faceless man standing over me, hand wrapped around his hard length.

“I can see you’re hard. Let me help you. I don’t want you to be in pain, Baby.”

He hums. “How does someone like you plan to take away my pain?”

My core throbs and my heart is pounding. “I—let me touch you. Please.”

“Look at you. Dripping wet already,” he says. “Do I have that much of an effect on you, or are you just so fucking needy for my cock that your pussy weeps to be filled?”

I gasp and my thighs clench. “I . . . I—”You’re at work, Dusty. Get a hold of yourself.

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