5. Tyson

5

TYSON

I pace my office trailer, unable to focus on tonight’s carnival preparations. My phone buzzes with a message from Phoenix, including a video link. My breath catches when I click it.

There she is. Sofia. Sprawled across her bed in tiny sleep shorts and a tank top, completely absorbed in her book. Her red hair fans out on the propped-up pillow like liquid fire.

“Fuck.” I adjust my stance, already hard just looking at her. The camera angle from her iMac gives me a perfect view of those curves. Her full chest moves up and down with each breath, and how her teeth catch her bottom lip when she reaches an interesting part.

My fingers trace the screen, imagining touching her soft skin. I shouldn’t be watching her like this. It’s crossing a line. But I’m already too deep, consumed by thoughts of making her mine.

She shifts position, stretching like a cat, and my grip tightens on the phone. Those little shorts ride up, revealing more thick, creamy thigh. I groan, picturing how it would feel to run my hands up those legs and hear her gasp my name.

“You’re going to be mine, baby girl,” I murmur to the screen. “Whether daddy dearest likes it or not.”

I should be focusing on tonight’s carnival. On the shipments coming in. On literally anything else. But I can’t tear my eyes away from her. The way she absent-mindedly twirls that red hair around her finger. How she occasionally smiles at something in her book.

Phoenix came through with this feed. I’ll have to thank him later. Sitting at my desk, I airdrop the feed link to my Mac and then open a new text message to Sofia.

Baby girl, I’ve been thinking about you.

I press send, then watch as her eyes flick down to her phone. She furrows her brow, then picks it up.

Her confused expression turns to one of annoyance as she reads my message.

Who the hell is this?

Her reply comes a few seconds later, and her voice carries a hint of irritation as she speaks aloud through the iMac microphone.

I almost feel bad for a second—almost. I type my response back.

You know who this is. Your favorite carnie.

Her eyes widen at the response, and I hear her annoyed huff through the iMac. I want to see that flush on her cheeks, how her chest rises and falls faster with each message.

I know you want me. Admit it, baby girl.

I send, then watch with a smirk as she hurries to respond.

You’ve got the wrong idea! And stop calling me baby girl!

She fires back, and I can tell she’s frustrated now. Good.

Make me.

I send back in a challenge already texting my next message.

Tell me you didn’t feel something when I touched you the other day. Admit you liked it.

Her brow knits together as she reads and sets the phone on the bed. She folds her arms, clearly debating how to respond. Finally, she picks up the phone again.

Fine. Maybe I felt something. Happy ?

I laugh out loud, unable to help myself. This is too easy. I love a good chase, and Sofia’s playing hard to get. Makes the game all the more fun.

Time to turn up the heat.

My smirk widens as I type out the next message, my gaze fixed on her beautiful form.

Tell me something. Have you ever been with a guy who’s cock is pierced?

I send the message and watch, knowing this will get her going.

Sure enough, her eyes widen as she reads, and she bites that damnable lip again. This time, though, it’s not from concentration. It’s from the building heat between her thighs, and I know it.

I steady my breathing as I watch her text back. Her reply comes in.

Not interested in your dick

It’s a lie as I notice her thighs pressing together on screen.

My eyes lock on the way she shifts in her position, spreading those thick thighs. The thin fabric of her sleep shorts does nothing to hide the growing wet spot between her legs. Fuck, she’s getting turned on despite her dismissive texts.

Just imagine the metal sliding against your G-spot while I’m buried deep inside you .

Her next reply comes in.

You’re disgusting. Leave me alone.

But on screen, her hand trails down her stomach, fingers ghosting over her shorts. She starts rubbing slow circles right where that damp patch is spreading. My cock throbs painfully against my jeans.

I free my length, wrapping my hand around the thick shaft. The barbells of my magic cross glint in the office light as I stroke, imagining how it would feel sliding against her clit.

She’s trying hard to be cool in her texts, but I’ve got a sneak peek into the truth. The way she grinds subtly against her hand makes her breathing heavier. When she adjusts again, legs falling wider apart, that wet spot is unmistakable.

“Fuck,” I growl, pumping my cock faster. The metal of my piercings adds delicious friction with each stroke.

I knew I was getting to her, but I needed to see her reaction. Glancing down at my rock-hard cock, an idea forms, and I don’t hesitate to act on it.

Grabbing my shaft, I angle the phone to capture the full length of my erection, the metal barbells glinting in the light. I snap a few photos, my heart pounding with anticipation.

Then, without a second thought, I send one to her.

On-screen, her eyes widen, and her fingers pause in their motion. Her tongue peeks out to wet her lips, and I know she’s imagining that thick length inside her.

“Holy fuck,” she breathes, and my cock twitches .

I can see the wheels turning in her head as she debates her next move. Her gaze flicks between her phone and her hand, rubbing her clit.

I bite back a groan as she shifts position again, dragging those tiny shorts down her thighs. Fucking hell, I’m about to lose it.

The sounds of her gasps and whimpers fill the room as her fingers dive between her legs. Sofia throws her head back, oblivious that I’m watching her every move.

“Keep going, baby girl,” I mutter as she spreads herself open. Her pretty pink cunt is glistening from her arousal.

She’s so fucking responsive, and I haven’t even touched her yet. I stroke myself harder, loving how she loses herself in her pleasure.

You have no idea how good it would feel to have my cock inside your tight pussy.

I send, my eyes locked on the screen as her eyes squeeze shut.

“Oh, fuck,” she whimpers, and I know my words are getting to her.

Good.

I type more.

Imagine me stretching you open. Filling you up with every inch.

Her fingers move faster, her hips lifting off the bed.

You want this cock, don’t you ?

I text, adding another photo of my hard cock and pressing send as I watch her.

She reads the text and looks at the photo. “Fuck, yes. I want it,” she breathes.

I smirk, knowing she wouldn’t admit it in a text or out loud if she knew I could hear.

You’re an ass.

She sends, her chest heaving.

That’s not the part of me you’re thinking about.

Her mouth falls open as her fingers plunge in and out of her glistening cunt.

“Damn, you look so fucking sexy like that. Bet that pussy feels amazing.” I growl to myself, typing another text.

I’m going to plow into you so hard. Make you feel every inch.

And that does it.

She comes with a loud moan, hips bucking off the bed. Her eyes shut as she rides out the waves of pleasure, fingers working furiously.

“Fuck,” I grunt, unable to hold back anymore. I come with a few more strokes, spilling my release onto the desk with a satisfied groan.

That was fucking intense. And we haven’t even touched each other yet. I chuckle, shaking my head.

Sitting back in my chair, I use my dirty shirt to wipe up the mess I made. My cock still twitching, sated but eager for more. Fucking hell, this woman is going to be the death of me. And I can’t wait.