Page 14 of Filthy Elites

Laughing, he shakes his head. “I don’t know if you’re naïve or only playing at it. Let me save you the time. I don’t have a nice side you can appeal to. If you want me to keep your secret, you’ll have to pay for my silence.”

“You want money?” My voice rises in pitch.

“Darling, I come from grotesque money.” He walks to my bed and flops onto it, getting comfortable. “I want you to play for me.”

I stare at him without blinking.

“That’s it? You want me to play.”

“For now.”

I clench my jaw. Of all the things I thought he was going to ask, that wasn’t it. Probably because it’s too easy.

“I have to get dressed first.”

“No. You’ll play for me like that.”

I knew it. He knows there’s a chance I might lose my towel while playing. I know better now than trying to convince him to let me put clothes on. He wants to torture me.

I retrieve the color-explosion violin from its case and start by tuning it. This takes a while, but Jason doesn’t seem to be in a hurry. He’s watching my every move with a satisfied smirk on his face.

Content that I won’t sound like nails scratching a blackboard, I get in position.

“Any requests?”

“Play something by Mendelssohn.” He links his hands behind his head.

I start playingAllegro Molto Appassionatoand immediately wince at the low quality of the sound. It’s probably fine for the untrained ear, but to me, who’s played on the best instruments in the world, this is pure agony. Only another violinist would know to pick this type of punishment.

I don’t understand why Jason was obsessed with finding out my secret, or why he’s so angry that I kept my identity hidden. I can’t let him keep digging and discover the reason I went to the extreme of faking my own death. I have no idea if his family has any connection to Juan’s. Even if the chances are slim, I can’t risk it.

I’m almost done with the piece when the towel begins to slide down. I miss a note, and the violin’s shriek hurts my ears.

“Don’t you dare stop,” he warns me.

So that was his end goal all along. He was hoping for a towel mishap, and that’s exactly what happens in the next second. It falls in a heap by my feet. I’m mortified, but I keep my eyes closed so at least I can pretend I’m alone. I refuse to cry in front of him, but my eyes prickle behind my eyelids. The cursed lenses don’t help matters either.

Finally, the music ends, but before I open my eyes again, the door shuts with a loud bang.

Jason is gone.

ChapterEight

Jason

I was enjoyingmy little torture session. I knew that damn towel wouldn’t stay in place while Isabelle played. I didn’t expect my body to react the way it did when it finally dropped. I’m not a perv who gets a hard-on every time I see a naked girl. But seeing Isabelle in her birthday suit while she played on that cheap violin made me so hard, I had to escape before she could see what it did to me.

I rush into my room and shut the door with a bang. Like Isabelle, I also have a private bathroom. I refuse to pleasure myself, knowing she’s the reason for my current state. I yank off my clothes as I head to the shower, not caring if I rip seams or lose buttons. I set the shower to cold and walk right under the icy jets. It makes me tense and grind my teeth. But my fucking dick is still standing at attention.

What the hell!

I close my eyes and try to think of anything but her. It’s impossible. Automatically, my hand finds my shaft and I begin to work it, bracing my arm against the cold tiled wall. I don’t use any soap to make it easier, I want it to chafe. I’m jerking off to the girl I’ve hated for nearly a decade.

She has no idea who I am. Why would she remember a scrawny, nobody violinist when she was a prodigy? I used to look up to her, that was until my mother pulled some strings and arranged for me to compete in the same contest as her.

I grunt as I near climax. My balls are tight, ready to explode. Because I’m a glutton for punishment, the last image of Isabelle playing the violin comes to the forefront of my mind, and then my fantasy takes over. I don’t run away; instead, I push her against the wall and fuck her until she forgets both her names.

The orgasm hits me then, and it’s intense. I don’t remember a hand job ever doing this to me even when performed by someone else. My breathing is still coming out in bursts minutes after I finished.

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