Page 65 of Eye Candy

Gathering fistfuls of silk, I pulled the fabric up around my waist. Tilting my hips up so that he could see, I skirted my fingers over my black lace panties, involuntarily shuddering as I passed over my swollen clit, sensitive even through the fabric.

“That’s it. Show me how desperate that pussy is for me.” He rubbed a hand over the visible bulge in his dress pants.

Emboldened, I put my glass down on the floor and stood to whip the borrowed gown off over my head, then I sat back down and returned my legs over the sides of the chair, leaning back so he could take in the sight of my body in the black lingerie and thigh-high black fishnets. My thighs were generous, and Chase devoured the sight, his gaze a touch I could almost feel.

I was used to people thinking I was sexy—it was a bad night for tips if they didn’t. But my burlesque routines were usually about deconstructing sexy and putting it back together with comedy and whimsy. At no point did I ever personally feel vulnerable. Not like now. My heart was pounding in my ears and my legs felt shaky. But I wanted Chase to know he was never just a faceless person in a crowd to me.

I pushed my hand into my underwear and Chase’s eyes darkened. He didn’t take his eyes off me but shrugged out of his jacket. The fabric slipped off his shoulders gracefully, taking the evening’s last scraps of civility with it.

I played with my folds, squirming under his hot stare. I carefully avoided my clit, because it felt like just one touch would have me leaping out of my skin.

“Lose the panties.”

It was embarrassing how quickly I scrambled to comply. I slipped the lace down over my legs and lay back on the chair as I had been before. Chase openly growled at the sight of my wet flesh spread open for him. Hopefully my stockings, bra, and naked cunt were a vision he was never going to forget.

I’d had barely two sips of wine, but I almost felt drunk under his gaze as I swirled my fingers through my damp folds and then slowly slid a finger inside myself.

“Is this—” I had to stop as I hit a particularly sensitive spot and my body jerked. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes. Keep going, Floss. Give me another finger.”

By which he meant, givemeanother. Carefully, I slid another in, moaning. He was so still he might have looked frozen, but his eyes followed my hand avidly.

“You look beautiful, spread out like that. Pushing your fingers into yourself. All that wetness is for me, isn’t it?”

I nodded.

“Do you need to call me Daddy again, Caroline? Will that make your pussy clench around your fingers? You liked calling me that at Lueur, didn’t you? Filthy girl.”

I was, I washisfilthy girl. But I shook my head, barely having enough air to reply. My body was wound tighter than a spring, and I was close to orgasming. I was pretty good at getting myself off, I’d had a lot of practice and I knew my body well. But I didn’t just want to orgasm. I wanted to orgasm for Chase or, better yet, with Chase. I imagined him unzipping his pants and freeing that bulge. Cock untucked, he’d stride over to me and fist his cock to line himself up so he could thrust into me in one hard stroke, making me feel every single inch of his thickness. We’d both get a thrill out of him making me beg for more of his cock, pleading until I finally tipped over the edge.

“No?” He prompted, not letting me get away with a nonverbal reply.

“I don’t need to call you Daddy every time,” I managed to reply, my voice breathy and labored. I was close. “Daddy is anenergy. A state of mind. I like that you give me—” I broke off and whimpered as my slick finger rubbed over my clit, too hard.

“Keep going, Floss. Tell me what you like.”

I couldn’t remember which planet I was on, let alone come up with a coherent explanation of my contingent kinks, but I was going to try. “I like— I like that you’re nice in the streets, Daddy in the sheets. Or on the bar. It’s not the word, it’s your vibe.” I felt like I was going to lose my mind, but the fire in his eyes kept me going. “I want you hard for me, Chase. I want to see you war with yourself about what you should do and then surrender to a bad idea. Call me a brat, pin me down. Because you want to and you can’t help yourself.”

His jaw did that twitching thing I was so enamored with. “Are you close, Floss?”

I nodded. I could barely breathe anymore.

“Fuck your fingers,” he commanded.

As he watched, I sped up, using the hand that wasn’t thrusting into my body to work over my clit. My legs were wide, and the sounds my pussy was making were obscene, but I didn’t care, I couldn’t care.

Then I couldn’t hold out any longer. I threw my head back over the chair as my body shuddered, my most intimate ring of muscles clenching around my fingers as I came with a hoarse cry.

When my vision cleared and I looked up again, Chase was sitting in the same place as before, stiff as a board, but the sheets were mussed, as if he’d been clutching them while watching me orgasm. Like he had to stop himself from reaching for me. His jaw was clenched as he palmed his dick, almost like he was telling itdown boy, and I basked in the obvious admiration.

“Come here,” he said. And I knew exactly what he wanted, because it was what I wanted too.

I slid to my knees and crawled the few feet to where he sat on the edge of the four-poster bed. He groaned, watching my naked ass in the air as I made my way across the floor to him.

“You’ll kill me, Floss.”

His cock looked like it was going to split his pants. Really, I was doing his tailor a favor by reaching up and freeing him from such tight confines.

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