Own My Soul (Sixty Days 3)

I hissed as I rubbed myself. Grunted low as I thrust my fingers in deep.

I was preparing myself. Utterly preparing myself. I’d be everything I could possibly be to the viewers, everything that would make my pay day come my way.

The table was solid enough that I could lean back against it, strumming the right spots that my body really did start to take on a life of its own. My breaths grew shallow, heart racing. My mouth turned dry and my eyes closed for deeper sensation, and it was there. The sensation was there, thrumming between my thighs as I pushed myself harder.

Maybe I really was turning into the dirty little slut I’d sold myself as.

I bit my lip as my fingers worked faster, spreading my legs wider in a squat as I fucked myself deep, and I was feeling it. Truly feeling it.

Almost feeling it too much to open my eyes as the door creaked and swung inwards.

Feeling it enough to not care that my fingers were deep.

And there he was. The brother of the man I was crazy in love with.

The man who looked his own shade of delicious in his tailored suit and cufflinks. The man who looked deep and dark and determined to make me his as he stepped on up to me and took my hair in his hands.

His mouth was aiming for my ear, and his breath was fierce and still I didn’t change my stance. My fingers were still working hard as his lips tickled my skin, ghosting the first hint of words before Mr Sinister stepped on in after.

“Dungeon’s ready,” he barked. “Viewers are ready too. You can rein in your horny shit until you’re out there on screen.”

There was humour in his tone. Humour that saw my new sir back away from me and shoot him a smile.

“Sorry,” he said. “This one is a sweet little number.”

“Indeed,” Mr Sin replied. “A sweet little number that belongs to our viewers, so get her on out there and show them what she’s got.”

I still had my fingers between my legs when sir number two took hold of them and pulled me to standing. His eyes were glittering in the dim light when he forced me upright and met me toe to toe.

I couldn’t bring my eyes to his, call it family resemblance. My gaze dropped, to his mirror shine shoes, waiting for instructions as he cleared his throat.

“Time to get this show on the road, sweet thing,” he said and led me through to the dungeon next door.Chapter NineteenPaigeMy whole body was alive with trembles as the man in charge directed me to the bed in the middle of the room.

His hands were firm on my shoulders, lowering me to sitting on the mattress. I stared up at the knot in his tie, my breaths ragged as my heart raced.

He really was like his brother. The scent of him. The lines of him. The shape of him.

My clit was still pulsing, thighs clenching tight, determined to keep hold of the sensations I’d forced out of myself just a few minutes earlier.

There were no words. Not from him, and not from me. Just two heated bodies in a silent room until the intercom crackled loud overhead.

“Twenty seconds,” Mr Sin’s voice shouted out, and I flinched. His voice was more than enough to make me flinch.

“Relax,” the man in charge said, and I nodded, forcing myself to try out words for size.

“Yes, sir,” I heard myself say, and it sounded weird. Quiet and empty.

The seconds ticked by slowly enough to feel like forever, my nerves humming as he stepped away to the side and took hold of my chin.

I could picture his brother’s grip of my face. The way he squeezed my cheeks.

I wanted it enough that my stomach pained.

“People will be watching,” he said, and his voice was low and loud. “Let’s give them something to fucking watch, sweet thing.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, and this time it was louder. This time it needed to be. This time I needed to push myself through every scrap of reluctance and dive headlong in.

The lights blinked from red to green. The pulse of being live was undeniable, I could feel it zipping right through me and curling in my gut.

People were watching. Really watching.

Brandon was watching.

New sir’s fingers were rough against my scalp as he took a handful of hair and held me firm for the viewers. “Gonna show the guys how fucking desperate you are for punishment, aren’t you?” he grunted, and I nodded, even though it hurt.

“Yes, sir. I want it,” I said, hoping it didn’t sound like a lie.

“Gonna show the guys what a dirty little bitch you are,” he said, and I nodded again, even though his grip made my eyes water.

“Yes, sir, I’m a dirty little bitch,” I said, and my voice sounded firmer now. Stronger than I’d known it in this place.