Page 9 of Carnival Master

You’ve got the wrong idea! And stop calling me baby girl!

She fires back, and I can tell she’s frustrated now. Good.

Make me.

I send back in a challenge already texting my next message.

Tell me you didn’t feel something when I touched you the other day. Admit you liked it.

Her brow knits together as she reads and sets the phone on the bed. She folds her arms, clearly debating how to respond. Finally, she picks up the phone again.

Fine. Maybe I felt something. Happy?

I laugh out loud, unable to help myself. This is too easy. I love a good chase, and Sofia’s playing hard to get. Makes the game all the more fun.

Time to turn up the heat.

My smirk widens as I type out the next message, my gaze fixed on her beautiful form.

Tell me something. Have you ever been with a guy who’s cock is pierced?

I send the message and watch, knowing this will get her going.

Sure enough, her eyes widen as she reads, and she bites that damnable lip again. This time, though, it’s not from concentration. It’s from the building heat between her thighs, and I know it.

I steady my breathing as I watch her text back. Her reply comes in.

Not interested in your dick

It’s a lie as I notice her thighs pressing together on screen.

My eyes lock on the way she shifts in her position, spreading those thick thighs. The thin fabric of her sleep shorts does nothing to hide the growing wet spot between her legs. Fuck, she’s getting turned on despite her dismissive texts.

Just imagine the metal sliding against your G-spot while I’m buried deep inside you.

Her next reply comes in.

You’re disgusting. Leave me alone.

But on screen, her hand trails down her stomach, fingers ghosting over her shorts. She starts rubbing slow circles right where that damp patch is spreading. My cock throbs painfully against my jeans.

I free my length, wrapping my hand around the thick shaft. The barbells of my magic cross glint in the office light as I stroke, imagining how it would feel sliding against her clit.

She’s trying hard to be cool in her texts, but I’ve got a sneak peek into the truth. The way she grinds subtly against her hand makes her breathing heavier. When she adjusts again, legs falling wider apart, that wet spot is unmistakable.

“Fuck,” I growl, pumping my cock faster. The metal of my piercings adds delicious friction with each stroke.

I knew I was getting to her, but I needed to see her reaction. Glancing down at my rock-hard cock, an idea forms, and I don’t hesitate to act on it.

Grabbing my shaft, I angle the phone to capture the full length of my erection, the metal barbells glinting in the light. I snap a few photos, my heart pounding with anticipation.

Then, without a second thought, I send one to her.

On-screen, her eyes widen, and her fingers pause in their motion. Her tongue peeks out to wet her lips, and I know she’s imagining that thick length inside her.

“Holy fuck,” she breathes, and my cock twitches.

I can see the wheels turning in her head as she debates her next move. Her gaze flicks between her phone and her hand, rubbing her clit.

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