Page 18 of Moon Blind Hearts
“Such a pretty little bat you are,” I tease, knowing he’s ready for anything I throw at him. “So obedient.”
“I’m a good boy,” he responds, grinning despite the vulnerable position I have him in.
I hum. “I’ll be the judge of that,” I reply, stroking my nails along his skin. He vibrates with the feeling of my touch, his hands clenching in his black jeans as if he really wants to touch, but he’s a good boy just like he says. He keeps his hands to himself.
I glance at the camera in front of him. “What do we think, little bats?” I ask. “Do we think he’s going to be a good boy?” I smirk at the camera, knowing that’ll look good in post edits. At some point, we’ll be live and I’ll be able to ask them directly. Right now, this is just an introduction.
Unlike Sawyer, Cash and Oak still wear their shirts, which just won’t do. I reach down the front of Cash’s chest, running my fingers across his collarbones before scratching gently at his pecks. “This needs to go,” I rasp, tugging at the shirt. He reaches up his hands but I stop him. “Ah, ah, little bat,” I warn. “Allow me.”
“Yes ma’am,” he groans, dropping his hands back to his side and waiting.
“What was that?” I clarify.
He blinks before realizing his mistake. “Of course, I meant, yes, Mistress.”
“Very good,” I purr in his ear.
I move around his chair, giving the camera my back. I could just stand there and bend over, but where would the fun in that be? I straddle his legs, immediately making him tense with eagerness as I reach up to the first button at his throat.
“Count them,” I command, fully in control of the moment.
He swallows thickly, tilting his chin back to give me better access and to look up at me. As my fingers flick the button open, he says thickly, “one.”
My lips tilt up. “Good,” I say as I flick another button free.
“Two,” he dutifully continues. “Three. Four.” At the last button, I pause to stroke my fingers down his stomach, making the muscles there jump and flex at my touch. When I finally flick the final button free, he sighs. “Six. Thank you, Mistress.”
Oh, so he’s studied me well then. For his cooperation, I lean forward and press my lips to the corner of his lips, not a kiss, but a tease. A muscle in his jaw ticks at the touch, his eagerness barely contained. His hardness suddenly presses against my core, demanding to be touched, but not yet. Still, when I stand again, I make sure to brush against it, making him moan in pleasure at the gentle touch.
I turn toward the third man in the room, the one I know will struggle the most with this set up. Iron Buckle isn’t just his handle. It’s his whole personality in his scenes. He’s always in control, always in charge of everyone else’s pleasure. Now, it’s his turn to sit and take orders.
“What’s wrong, little bat?” I ask as I trail toward him, not yet touching. I circle him like prey. “You seem tense.”
“I am,” he replies honestly.
I chuckle. “Good. I enjoy the way the corded muscles in your neck dance for me.” I stop just behind him. “Let’s see how tense we can get you, shall we?”
His eyes flash, a promise of payback when the roles are reversed. Somehow that makes this even better. For the first time in a long time, I’m looking forward to a job.
I reach for his neck, running my fingers over the dancing tension there, humming at the way he shifts in his chair. Carefully, I run my hands up, threading my fingers into his beard to maneuver his head to the side. He fights me, so I thread my other fingers into his hair on top of his head and jerk his head back, forcing his neck to be exposed.
I tsk at him. “That just won’t do, Iron Buckle,” I purr. “That just won’t do at all.”
He narrows his eyes at me, and I smile. “Just you wait until I’m in control,” he warns.
“Careful, little bat,” I tease. As if to remind him how much control he has right now, I move around to his front, meeting his eyes as I straddle his lap like I’d done Cash. “Count.”
I pop the first button free, but his lips remain closed. I lean in and wrap my fingers around his thick neck. Really, my hand is too small to do any real damage. I doubt I can even cut off his air with how large he is. Still, it’s about the feeling of it. “Count,” I hiss. “Or you won’t get to finish, little bat.”
There’s a tick beneath his eye that tells me I’m pushing his buttons. Good.
“I’m not a horse to be broken,” he growls.
“Aren’t you?” I purr, playing the part. “I bet you’ll break so beautifully, cowboy. I bet you’ll gush for me when I drag you over that line.” I lean forward and press a kiss on his cheek before nipping him beneath the small beak of my mask. His cock suddenly presses against his jeans, demanding attention, and I practically rub against him like a cat. “Now . . . count.”
He grits his teeth, so when the word finally comes out, it sounds forced. “One.”
“Good boy,” I encourage, laughing as he growls at my words. “Again.” I flick another button free.
