Page 12 of To Hell

He is not a man of too many words. And yet, he has managed to say words that my soul has longed to hear for many years.

I take the dress and slip past him. I unbutton his shirt first and let it drop to the floor. Then I go in next to unclasp the tiny costume bra. I tilt my head to see if he is watching me, but he has given me his back.

If he says I’m worth so much, why does he not want to look at me?

I glide in his direction, then hook my thumb around my underwear to be rid of it. Stripping like this feels significant in a way. It feels like finally taking off the life I thought would be the only life for me until he showed up.

Someday, I will have the courage to ask him why me.

I take quiet steps toward him, stopping behind him. I don’t know him at all. He was never a regular, so I can’t say if he likes to be touched. I keep my hands to myself but push my breasts against the part of his back that I can reach.

“I’m done,” I fidget with my fingers, waiting for him to face me.

He glides, his upper arm brushing past my breasts as he faces me, “What the…”

I stop him by taking his hands and covering my bare breasts with them. “You bought me for a reason, yeah?”

“Zoe,” he clears his throat, shaking his head weakly, but with the way his eyes are hooded and his jaw tightening, I know I affect him.

“I do not know your name,” I step in closer, making sure to leave no space between my breasts and his body, “Will you tell me, or should I call you master?” I squeeze his hand around my breasts, and I suck in a deep breath, shocked at the effect he has on me.

“Ettore,” he husks. “And…” he makes the mistake of peering down through hooded lashes at where his hands are covering my breasts. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispers, and the warm breath pricks my senses.

“Tell me to stop,” I let go of him to show him he is the one now massaging my nipples and move my hands to gently palm his growing erection through his pants.

He makes a deep guttural sound that reverberates in my stomach, making my pussy clench.

“I can’t have you if you are not willing,” he retrieves his hands and steps back. “This is not transactional. I don’t need to fuck you to care for you. You don’t have to let me fuck you, Zoe. You have a voice. You have a will. You make the call.”

Fuck. The way he says the word makes it so erotic I cannot help but want him to do just that.

I might not have allowed myself to think deeply about it, but he is striking. There is a beauty he possesses that is unbelievable regardless of his scars. I’m drawn to him in a way I have never felt drawn to anyone before.

And all I have to do is show him.

I slip my hand between my legs, slipping my fingers into my pussy and then pulling them out to lift them, showing him the dampness he has managed to sap out of me.

It’s another first.

The only time I get wet is when they feed us with aphrodisiacs to make the clients feel satisfied.

I wait to see what he'll do now.

It’s a quick slip, and before I register that his restraints are shattered, my back is on the mattress, and he is hovering between my legs.

He doesn’t kiss me as I’m longing for him to, but very snappily, he is undoing his belt and pulling out his cock.

“You want me?” He groans into my opened mouth, never pressing enough to kiss me, and I nod, gulping down his warm breath. “Then open up.”

Oh.

The way he talks.

I open my legs as wide as I can for him, planting my feet on the mattress.

He holds my gaze like I mean the world to him as he slips into me, my pussy enveloping him, gripping him, which tells me he is big. Then, his eyes close very quickly, and his nose flares as he shoves in.

He drops his head to the side of my face and grates my cheek with his teeth in the most pleasure-arousing way. He starts to move inside of me. He is fully clothed, and I’m naked, but I don’t mind. I feel seen. He sees me.

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