Page 107 of With a Cherry On Top

She holds up a squeeze bottle of clear honey, her manicured nails pressing against the plastic.

Jesus Christ.

The chat explodes with messages, flooding the screen with obscene requests, each more depraved than the last. Then, the unmistakableka-chingof an old-fashioned cash register overlays the feed. Donations. Big ones.

$50 from afk.tofuck

$150 from balls_deep

$350 from begmeformore

A visceral, ugly jealousy coils in my gut, twisting tighter with every chime.

“Aww, you guys! You’re so sweet,” Charlotte purrs, tilting her head. She shrugs the robe off, and in a set of white lingerie, she lifts the bottle and squeezes, letting the golden liquid drip onto her tongue. Some of it she swallows, but the rest trails downher chin, thick and glistening, pooling in the valley between her breasts.

I glance at the chat again.

JohnforLove

Bet you suck dick so well, Cherry.

Fucking hell, my head is going to explode.

I tear my gaze away, pressing my lips together as I click on the fourth button—Choose your own. My fingers hover over the keyboard, then I type.

can we talk?

I hit send.

Charlotte barely glances at the screen. “Ohh. You want to come on my stomach, Luke?”

She tips the bottle, letting honey trickle over her navel, then spreads it with two fingers. “Just like this, sexy?”

A red notification pops up.

request denied.

Fuck.

“My ass? All right.” She turns on all fours, arching her back. Honey drips down the curve of her ass before she drags her fingers through it, smearing it down her thighs.

My hands are sweating, my heartbeat an erratic drum. I type again.

just give me one minute of your time. please.

Seconds pass. Then—another red notification.

request denied.

She’s punishing me. I know she is.

I run a hand through my hair. “Fuck!”

Charlotte hums, tilting her head. “My face, huh? Who wants to see my face drenched in cum?”

The chat erupts, and theka-chings ring out like a slot machine. My patience snaps as I rush to type another custom request.

i understand you’re angry, okay? I’m sorry. but i’m not going to do what beatri?—

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