Touch yourself

Chole

One word.

Big.

Damn, he was big. Trust me, I knew.

Rather, I felt it—the hard, solid evidence beneath me, pressing against my thigh. Something hard, something big. It made my heart race, and I wanted so badly to remove the stupid clothes separating us.

Forget it, this man beneath me was perfect.

A stripper who’s big? That’s an extra bonus.

The heat coursing through my body took over everything else—name it: common sense, decency, shame. They were all gone, thrown into the trash. I didn't even want to waste another second on small talk. I wanted to stop this back-and-forth and head straight to a bedroom, somewhere private where I could have my way with him.

How good would it be if he was half-naked, entertaining me, moving for me. My pulse quickened at the thought. My body was already aching for more.

I looked down at him. He had to be feeling the same thing I was, right? I mean, that evidence poking me was clear. Even though his expression was cold, like he wanted nothing more than to murder me, his body betrayed him.

He wanted me. I knew it.

I just had to seduce him to get what I wanted. I might be obedient and look ordinary, but once I set my mind to something, I always got it right.

“If this is about the money, just name your pri—”

“Fine.”

I froze, blinking at him in confusion. Fine?

I tilted my head slightly, unsure if I’d misheard him. “Fine?” I repeated under my breath. Just like that? He agreed so easily? I had expected him to play hard to get, or at least force me to do some serious convincing.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “What? I thought you wanted me to be your stripper for tonight. Or have you changed your mind?”

My mouth opened and closed like a fish for a second before I quickly shook my head. “No! Of course not! How could I possibly change my mind? I'm glad you agreed, you made the right decision.” I said, grinning.

Then, unexpectedly, he looked at me like a mischievous cat eyeing a rat walking into its trap. “Will you pay the price for what happens next?”

I froze.

The words hung in the air.

Why did that sound… ominous?

I tried to swallow the sudden lump in my throat, my earlier confidence faltering for just a second. “What price?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

His lips twitched—almost a smile, but not quite and he didn’t answer.

‘Run, Chloe. This man screamed danger. You already have enough crazy people in your life—do you really want to add one more?’ The last bit of common sense I had screamed at me to run far and never look back.

‘Stop worrying so much. This is your night. You're in control. Take him to your room and enjoy yourself. Forget everything.’ The whore in me countered back.

‘Think carefully—a stripper in an expensive car like this. Thin—’

I shook the uneasy feeling off. Whatever, I thought. It didn’t matter. How much could he possibly mean? A few hundred dollars? Maybe a little more, but it was just money.

Sure, I might be broke, but this was a one-time thing. Whatever price he asked, I could figure it out later. It wasn’t like this would turn into something bigger.

This was just one night. The last time we’d meet. Nothing could go wrong.

“Of course. Whatever the price is, I’ll pay it.”

He stared at me for a long moment, and something about his gaze made me shiver, but I ignored it.

This would be fine. It had to be fine.

****

What was happening?

What the fuck was happening right now?

What was this situation? What the hell was going on?! It doesn't make sense. Nothing made sense. The heat crawling under my skin, the sharp ache that throbbed through me.

My body—why couldn't I control it, why was it not listening to me, to my command.

Shit.

I was supposed to be in control. I was supposed to be the one sitting, the one being pleased. I was supposed to be in charge of tonight.

But now, here I was, the one doing the pleasing. The one being controlled.

“Crawl.”

The deep voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and my breath hitched. I looked up, my heart pounding in my chest as though it wanted to burst out.

He was sitting on the bed, his body relaxed, one leg stretched out while the other rested bent at the knee. He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes fixed on me with an expression I couldn’t read.

Was it disinterest? Curiosity? Amusement?

The way he looked at me, as though I were an experiment he was trying to crack, made something inside me twist. It was as if he saw right through me.

One moment, we were in the car. I was in control. Or at least, I thought I was. The next moment, everything had shifted. Now I was on my knees, the power slipping out of my grasp like sand between my fingers.

“I said crawl,” he repeated.

I flinched. He didn't even have to raise his voice. My hands trembled as I slowly lowered myself onto my hands and knees.

I crawled toward him, my eyes locked on his, the heat in my body intensifying. When I reached him, I stopped at his thighs, my knees brushing against the edge of the bed. I looked up at him, my breath shaky.

God, he was handsome. Too handsome. The sharp angles of his face, the bored look in his gaze, the way his lips curved—it all made my chest tighten.

I wanted him.

I wanted him so badly it hurt.

My hands moved on their own, reaching up to his jeans, slowly unzipping them.

My eyes searched for a reaction, but his expression didn’t change. He watched me, like I was a puzzle he had no intention of solving but every intention of breaking apart.

And yet, that only made me want him more.

Just as my hand slid lower, ready to wrap around him, his next words stopped me cold.

“Touch yourself.”