Page 61 of Veil of Obsession
Lucio turns his head, following my instructions.
His eyes lock directly onto where the camera is positioned, and it feels like we’re making eye contact. I can see the way his eyes gleam, as if there’s an idea forming in that little twisted brain of his.
“Do you have any in my room?” he asks me.
I pause, debating whether to admit that I do or lie.
“I’m not answering that.”
That makes him laugh. He laughs so hard that he doubles over.
“I didn’t say anything funny,” I mutter, annoyed by the fact that he knows I saw the little stunt he pulled the other night.
The silence between us stretches, thick with something dangerous. Something forbidden. My pulse pounds in my ears, drowning out every rational thought.
“Did you at least touch yourself while watching me?” Lucio’s voice is low, husky, the kind of voice that should be illegal over the phone.
My stomach clenches. I hesitate. Just for a second. And that second is all he needs.
“You did,” he says, satisfaction dripping from his words. “I bet you were in bed, wearing nothing but those pretty little panties.”
I swallow hard, my hands curling into fists as heat coils low in my belly. Lucio’s laughter fades, but the smirk lingers in his voice.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmurs, settling back on the couch and leaning back, legs spread wide. His hand drags over his stomach, fingers teasing the waistband of his sweatpants.
I force out a breath, refusing to give him the satisfaction of my silence. “You think very highly of yourself.”
“I know you were watching.”
I don’t deny it, nor do I confirm it. I know exactly what he’s referring to. The way I watched him the other night—half-dressed, sprawled out on his bed, his hand wrapped around his cock like he knew I was there. Watching.
The memory burns, my thighs pressing together as heat floods through me.
“Are you touching yourself now, Princess?” His voice is thick, knowing.
I inhale sharply. “Maybe.”
Lucio exhales roughly, shifting on the couch. “Show me.”
“I think I like making you guess.”
His smug smirk deepens, his free hand dragging through his hair again. He’s restless now, anticipation crackling through him. I watch as his hand moves lower, his thumb dipping under the waistband of his pants.
“Touch yourself for me, Princess.” The words send a shiver down my spine.
I slip my hand into my panties, fingers dipping between my folds. I’m soaked, my skin hot and flushed from his voice alone. My breath hitches, a soft, shuddery sigh escaping my lips as I start to circle my clit.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
Lucio’s jaw tightens, his breath hissing through his teeth. “Tell me how it feels.”
“Hot. Wet.”
His head tips back against the couch, his eyes darkening. I hear the faint rustle of fabric, and then…
“Are you hard for me?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Lucio chuckles lowly. “What do you think?”
