Page 35 of Audacity

I hesitate, torn between breaching Steve’s trust and gaining Gabriel’s. ‘No.’

‘Why not?’ He adds another finger, and the stretch is glorious.

‘Too vanilla.’

There’s a ghost of a laugh. ‘Too vanilla. Got it. I must remember that. Is this “too vanilla” for you?’

‘No, it’s—it feels really good.’

‘But you need more.’

‘Mmm-hmm.’

‘Luckily for you, I’ve thought about this cunt far too much over the past four or five weeks,’ he admits, and with that he twists his fingers inside me and his lips meet my clit.

It’s more of an obscene open-mouthed kiss than a lick, and it has me practically jumping off the sofa. My whimper must tell him exactly what I think of it, for he hums his approval against my flesh and proceeds to lick me harder, his tongue doing lavish laps as he finger-fucks me slowly, deeply.

I kneel there, head bowed, the crown of my head resting against the wall of his office and the stretched elastic of my thong digging into the sides of my knees as Gabriel pays homage to my clit. His entire face is buried there, it feels like, his nose pressing just south of my entrance and his lips and tongue working every surface millimetre of the miraculous nervous system that’s giving me such intense pleasure. I was close before he laid a finger on me, whipped into a heightened state of arousal by the savage way in which he used my mouth, but now that he hashismouth on me, I’m lost to everything that is not chasing the beautiful, shimmering rainbow of this orgasm to its very end.

‘I’m going to come,’ I gasp with difficulty. ‘I’m going to—oh God, I need it as hard as you can.’

With a savage growl, he amps up the intensity of his finger-fucking and the tautness of his tongue, laving my clit with deadly precision and the perfect pressure: just the right side oftoo much.Those licks send me hurtling over the edge, and I shovemy knuckles into my mouth as a blistering heat courses through every last vein and my entire body ignites into wondrous nothingness.

He licks me through it, sliding his fingers out as I come down and pressing a kiss to my clit before pulling away from me. In one swift move, he’s collapsing on the sofa beside me and wrapping an arm around my waist so he can right me and tug me sideways onto his lap.

My most toxic trait as a sex worker is my love of aftercare. I absolutely don’t require it—it’s crucial for my mental health that I can look after myself after any kind of transactional sex, no matter how immersive or explosive—but I truly enjoy it.

I’m unsure if it’s my love of being adored, or the need for some human connection to bely the commercial nature of what’s just gone down, but I am a veritable kitten after a good orgasm or two. I love being petted, and cuddled, and praised. Some guys aren’t interested, obviously, but some enjoy it. I suspect they even find it gratifying to see me soft-limbed and pliant and sleepy. Given the way Gabriel looked after me last time, fetching me that robe, I suspect he’s in the camp that recognises its importance, even if he doesn’t explicitly get off on it.

Nevertheless, I’m experienced enough at reading cues to understand that, given the way he’s looking at me and the way he’s sprawled, sated, on the sofa, he wants a moment before we move onto logins and phone-answering protocols.

And the way he’s looking at me is hungry and not a little awe-struck. He tugs off my thong, which is still tangled uncomfortably around my knees, and smooths the silk of my dress over my legs, restoring my modesty. Our faces are so close, and I take the opportunity to gaze down at him, at the fans of dark lashes around his eyes and the sex-swollen lips.

‘Fuck, I think I need to go to confession after that,’ he mutters, and I laugh, because he sounds positively sheepish.

‘How so?’

‘I’ve never done that to a woman before.’

‘Done what? Let her perform fellatio?’ I find Latin always makes everything sound classier than it actually is.Fellatiooriginates from the past particle offello: I suck. Pretty accurate really.

‘I’ve never… fucked her mouth like that. It was pretty aggressive. Are you okay?’

I lick my lips. ‘Do I look like I’m not okay?’

‘No, but…’

‘Gabriel. You abused my mouth, and I fucking loved it, as you know, because you got to find out for yourself just how hopelessly turned on I was, didn’t you?’

He hesitates. He has one arm banded around me, and he reaches the other up to play with a tendril of my hair. ‘I suppose so. But why a beautiful woman with the world at her feet wants me to abuse her at all, I’m not entirely sure. I’m in uncharted territory here.’

‘Because it’s kinky. Because it’s subversive. Because I’m a relentless Type A in every other part of my life, as you’ll soon see, and it’s exhausting, and my way of balancing that is to have men dominate me and turn me into a little plaything, and it feels fucking wonderful. Does that reassure you?’

His face is so serious, so intense. This man listens with his whole body.

‘I’ll have to take your word for it.’ His hand is deeper in my hair now. I adore having my hair played with. ‘But I need to be absolutely sure that you’ll advocate for your needs when you deem it necessary.’

‘Gabriel, don’t for a moment mistake my submission for a lack of confidence. I have more boundaries than Oprah. I promise you, if I’m unhappy in a situation, you’ll know about it.But right now, I am very happy. This morning has gone downexactlyas I intended so far.’

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