Page 11 of Voyeur
“Now.”
“Now?” I didn’t know why I was shocked like the time made a difference in what was going to happen. I just figured I’d have more time to mentally prepare. Then again, maybe just letting it happen and not mentally preparing was better. Jackson looked like he was holding his breath, and I shook off my nerves and put him out of his misery. “Okay. Now is fine. Okay.”
Two strong arms banded around me and lifted me off my feet. “God. Thank you, Oak. I promise it will be the best pretend sex of your life.”
Once my feet hit the ground again, I gave him my hardest stare. “It better be.”
He laughed and grabbed my hand, leading me toward the back hallway, to hopefully the best pretend sex I’d ever have.
We broke apart to go freshen up before we entered the room, letting the voyeur get settled. Once the light had been switched to green, we’d decided to enter making out, like a couple coming in from a late night.
“Ready?” Jackson asked once we stood outside the door.
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Remember, it’s just a performance. Not real. Try not to fall in love with me.” He finished with a wink.
I remembered the lack of fire between us, grateful for how much easier this would be. I shook off my nerves and rolled my eyes. “I’ll try not to.”
“Panic button is on the nightstand should you need to use it,” the guard said. “I’ll be out here the whole time.”
Jackson leaned down and pressed a kiss to my lips with his hand on the knob. My lids fell closed as I breathed deep through my nose. Then a strong arm wrapped around my waist, and I was being tugged into the room. My hands dug into his hair as I pushed myself close to him. He kicked the door closed and hoisted me up with both palms on my ass.
I opened my lips and tasted the mint on his tongue before he began trailing kisses down my neck. When he’d reached the bed, he gently lay me down and slowed the frantic pace we came in with. It took all I had not to let my gaze flick to the large, dark glass off to my right.
Being with Jackson was more than I’d anticipated for the night. But imagining someone on the other side—a man—with his cock in his hand as he watched me, sent a spike of adrenaline through my limbs. I wasn’t even sure it was a man. I hadn’t looked at the sheet. It could’ve been a woman or a couple, but the image of a man fueled me, gave me the picture I needed to focus and get amped up.
I was distracted by my white T-shirt being lifted and pulled over my head, leaving me in a barely-there white lace bra. Jackson stripped himself of his own white shirt and then fell to his knees on the floor at my feet lining his face up perfectly with my chest. Holding my gaze, he lifted his hands to my breasts, swiping his thumbs along the hardened tips before hooking them in the cups and tugging them down.
He didn’t immediately look at my bared breasts, but continued to look into my eyes, conveying a comfort that I could trust him.4I was thrust back into remembering when he kissed me the first time. It had felt nice, I’d enjoyed it, but nothing about it urged me to demand more. The same stretched between us at that moment.
It was a performance. Like actors in a play. Some nights, when working there felt like too much, I reminded myself of that. Voyeur was a job, and I was an actress.
My body still reacted when his mouth dropped to suck on my nipple. My core still squeezed when he unbuttoned my jeans and tugged them off my legs. My muscles trembled as he pushed me back on the bed, hoisting a thigh over his shoulder and planting his mouth at the top of my mound.
My whole being vibrated with nerves of excitement, of fear. What if the customer knew that Jackson wasn’t actually eating me out, but just pretending to? What if they demanded their money back and this was all for nothing? His head dropped lower, skimming my folds and I forced myself to relax. It had to appear natural, and I used the tension to arch my back and moan. When his tongue flicked out to slip between my folds5and graze my clit on his way back up, I let out a real gasp and one hand shot out to grip the sheet as the other dug into his hair.
I wanted to ask him what the hell he was doing. Remind him that we agreed on pretend and not him actually tasting me. But when he didn’t do it again, just tortured me with anticipation of the possibility as he moved closer and closer to my slit, I instead focused on acting natural. This needed to appear natural. I picked up my breathing, my writhing, my moans until I tightened my whole body in a fake orgasm.
It wasn’t hard considering I had Jackson’s head between my legs. But my mind wasn’t on him. It was on whoever watched me behind the glass. Add in the soft touches against my folds, and I felt like a live-wire ready to detonate for real.
Soft kisses worked their way up my body to caress my nipples. Jackson’s large hands framed my hips and pushed me further across the bed until my head nearly hung off the other side. He tugged the cover out from under us, pushing it down and bunching it up at my hip to attempt to block the direct view of us having sex. He crawled between my legs after grabbing a condom, never taking his eyes off mine.
He didn’t let them rove my body and stare when he didn’t need to. He respected me and the situation, and we performed. We did our job.
When he finally undid his pants just enough to free his cock, he looked down to roll the condom on, and I couldn’t help but look too. Jackson was big. He was long, thick, and perfectly straight. It matched his body perfectly.
Giving him the same respect as he gave me, I quickly averted my eyes, giving him an adoring look as I scanned up from his sculpted abs and defined chest. I stroked my hands up the smooth skin of his arms and gripped his shoulders. He lifted my thigh and then reached to grab his cock to situate it.
Hopefully, to the viewer, it looked as though he was sliding inside me, when in reality, he pressed himself between my folds and thrust. The long glide of him brushed against my swollen clit and I knew, despite pretending, I was going to come from the friction alone.
His forehead rested on mine as his thrusts became harder, until he fell into the crook of my neck, picking up the pace. Faster and faster, he stroked across me. His hand gripped my thigh tight, holding it in place. All of it swam through me and consumed my body.
But my mind? My mind was focused on the stranger behind the glass. For all I knew it could be an older couple, not even watching as they fucked like bunnies. But in my mind, it was the man from the bar. In my mind, he’d been staring at me and wanting me all night. In my mind, he approached me and took me home and was the man above me. His broad body flexing with each thrust, pushing inside me, filling me up.
I didn’t even know his face, but when I began to come, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was holding on as groans of pleasure vibrated the skin of my chest and my body struggled to ground itself back to the bed. Jackson pressed his head into my neck as he groaned out his own release, pushing hard against my sensitive clit, drawing a few more aftershocks from my orgasm.
“Thank you,” he whispered against my skin once he’d finished, anchoring me to the moment.
