Page 65 of Masks and Mishaps

The cords of muscles and carved undulations are something else entirely. He’s stunning—unbelievable as a specimen and even more unbelievable when I consider how much more there is to him. To look the way he does, but to also be captivating and intelligent—it’s nearly unfair.

It’s why I want him. It’s why I need him. There’s nobody better than Dalton Cavendish.

I think I deserve the best.

He leans forward and wraps his mouth around my nipple, running his tongue over the proudly beaded peak and sucking indulgently. “There,” he murmurs against my breast while he clutches the other one, covering it with his big hand. “God, I needed this. The thought of never making these wet and shiny with my mouth again was agony.”

His tongue leaves my breast and slides up the column of my neck, traveling to my jaw. He layers kisses on me, fast and heated, bringing them to my cheek, my chin—but never my lips.

No worrying about tomorrow—just this.

Dalton pulls back. “I’ve always wanted to fuck you here,” he murmurs. He positions his fingers at my pussy and pushes two in right off the bat. “Holy shit. Do you have any idea how wet you are?”

Before I can answer, he inserts his fingers into my mouth, forcing me to taste my arousal. He leaves them there, even when I’ve slid my tongue between the split in his fingers, and switches his other hand to my pussy.

“Three fingers,” he says above a groan. “You’re taking them so good. I think this pussy could take anything, couldn’t it?”

The stretch is divine, but short of what I want. I want to be filled and split open, and until then, I’ll be thrumming with need. But Dalton continues to finger me, teasing me, giving me so much and still withholding the indulgent thickness he wields so masterfully.

“Do you know what I do in this office?” he asks, touching his thumb to my clit and sending a wave of pleasure that unfurls my desperation. He works another finger into me, extending the glorious stretch. “Four—baby, that’s amazing. This pussy is fuckingamazing. You think you could take my whole hand?”

Yes.

Yes. Yes.

Fucking yes.

The thought of Dalton fisting me makes my heart rate peak, and I thrust—tacitly telling him I want it.

“Good girl.” Finally, he takes his fingers out of my mouth and presses his lips against my neck, sucking to leave a mark. “How much will you let me do to your body? Everything?”

I hold his head in place, urging him to make the hickey dark, but to my chagrin, he pulls back again.

Is this motherfuckeredging me?

He stares into my eyes, and the gentle brown connects with mine through the holes in our masks. “I make money in here,” he clarifies. “Unreasonable, unnecessary amounts of money—and Ilove it. Every dollar in my bank account. Every bonus. Every time I add another zero to my net worth. I crave it. Live for it. It’s an aphrodisiac, and I’m not ashamed. I’m smug about it, actually.” He grins and unzips his pants one-handed. “What do you think of my money, sweetheart?”

“I love it,” I admit, bringing my hands to my breasts and massaging them. “I really, really love it.”

“Of course you do. I know you do because I finally figured you out,” he states, removing his fingers from my pussy andspittingright on it.

“Did you just—”

“Spit on your cunt? Yes. I do whatever the fuck I want to the things I own,” he answers before he does it again. “I admit, it took me longer than it should have, but I finally get why you wanted to cam with me so badly.” He slips his fingers in again, fucking his spit into me as he lets out a soft hum. “Such a sweet pussy. When are you going to let me eat it from behind?”

If he doesn’t get inside me soon, I may combust. “Please,” I beg. “Please, I need your—”

“Baby, stop begging. You know you’re going to get it.” Dalton smirks and leans closer, still penetrating me over and over again with his sinful fingers. “Give me the filth I like. That makes me happy.”

Demands? I’m going to screw him and then murder him—but I’m a professional for a reason. “I want your cock to fill me, not just with inches, but with cum. I won’t waste any of it—promise.I promise. I’ll keep it tight in me, and if I lose a drop, you can feed it to me.” Dalton is nodding as I speak, and a proud smile forms on his lips. “I’ll lick it off your fingers. Off your tongue. Off your big dick if I have to. I won’t waste any of it—but please,please, you have to let me milk it out of you first.”

“You’re talented, sweet girl,” he murmurs before he takes out his cock—and it’smagnificent. “I thought this was about debt, but it’s different, isn’t it?”

His dick is so thick and full of blood that it doesn’t even angle upwards when he’s erect. It elevates slightly from his body, weighty enough to succumb to the pull of gravity, sporting a drop of pre-cum at the tip. He notches the head against my entrance, holding it there—but he doesn’t enter me.

“Admit it,” he demands. “Admit why you cam—and why you need me to do it with you.”

I whimper. All those heavenly inches and warm cum are so close. “I’m tight. Just put it in—just the tip—and then we can talk.”

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