Page 9 of Seductive Scoundrel

Dean: You going to wear it for me on our date?

Mia: Yes, sir.

Dean: Then it was worth every fucking cent.

Mia: Thank you, by the way. Also, what’s your office address?

She either wants to send me something in return, or she wants to try and figure out who I am. She wouldn’t have heard of me even if she did figure out my last name, so I’m not worried, and quickly type my office location.

Dex had a big reveal when he came out in the press, letting a photographer into his home and office. The very idea makes me cringe, and I wouldn’t allow it for any amount of money. He’s now a media darling whereas I’m elusive and rarely get a mention except in obscure business publications – just how I like it.

Mia: I’m starting to think we’re actually going to Masa.

Dean: We are. If you show me your face.

Mia: So you can judge me like I’m a piece of cattle.

Dean: I wouldn’t put it quite like that. And I’ll send you a picture, too. You’re also free to renege if you don’t like what you see. If you were even planning to show up.

Mia: I’m coming.

Dean: Can’t wait to hear you come. How about I give you a call when I get home from the office?

Mia: You’re not home yet? It’s after 10.

Dean: I have long days. But I’ll make time to fuck you so good that the only word you’ll remember is my name. I’m calling you in ten minutes.

Mia: No! I’m not ready.

Dean: You’re saying you don’t want to hear me jerk my dick off while I’m fantasizing about sliding it inside you?

Mia: I do want it. But…just text messages tonight.

Dean: You drive a hard bargain. Take some pictures for me. I want them waiting on my phone when I walk in the door. My dick is already aching.

Mia: Yes, sir.

I don’t know if she’s fucking with me or she’s going to be a perfect submissive when I finally get her underneath me. That’s how I prefer my women, and I’m not against using restraints to get them to bend to my will.

And she will bend.

I take the private elevator to my penthouse, and drop my stuff in the foyer before heading straight to my bedroom, shedding clothes on the way. It doesn’t escape my attention that Gwynne, who must be feeling neglected, sent me a text offering to meet at our usual hotel suite. I never fuck in my own bed and she’s never set foot in my place. Yet here I am about to fuck my fist instead of letting her suck my cock.

All because of a girl whose face I haven’t seen.

I don’t know what the actual fuck is wrong with me.

But the pictures waiting on my phone prove that I haven’t completely lost my mind. Mia sent the close-up picture of her breasts that she promised, and all I can think about is how her perfect porcelain skin will look covered in my cum. She also included pictures of her wearing black booty shorts at a few different angles, which I’m going to coax off that sweet ass.

I return the favor by snapping a picture of me squeezing my very hard cock through my grey boxer briefs. Jesus, it feels like concrete and aches like hell. I hope the caption convinces her to let me call because texting is bullshit and I want to hear her moans.

Dean: Sure you don’t want to hear how I sound when I’m stroking my cock for you? It won’t be quiet, and I want to tell you exactly how I’ll make that pussy drip for me.

She takes longer to reply than I’d like, and I’m guessing it’s because she isn’t used to guys who talk like me.

Good.

Mia: I’ll send you a picture of my face tomorrow, and then you can call me on Wednesday.

---