4. Four

Four

Avery

O kay, so this wasn't stopping. Not now. For a moment there, I thought I'd be able to successfully pull myself back and be responsible, but then he dropped to his knees, praised me like I was doing something wonderful for him while he sucked my cock as if he owned the damned thing. Who out there would put a stop to that?

And it was bullshit that I might lose my job. That lie had fallen from me in a moment of desperation. Zelda would probably cheer me on, then scour the CCTV footage for a glimpse of the mystery man and what he'd done to me. She wouldn't let it go, even if I begged her to drop it.

It made it ten times hotter that I didn't know who was under the face paint. And he'd paid for me, parted with his hard-earned cash just for the chance to see me dance, to catch me. Mmm.

This was far from over .

With his warm hand in mine, I pulled him the rest of the path through the maze, smiling at my handiwork as a row of skeletons with dildos for boners hung by their necks from the ceiling. A few had padded bras across their chest and strap-ons I'd wrestled their gangly plastic legs through, too. A thing of beauty. And with my senses returning to me, it was easy to navigate again. The fear was almost gone, but adrenaline still coursed through me, making me light-headed, think foolish thoughts. A little unnerved in the best possible way.

"Jesus," the man muttered at the skeleton display, and I laughed, airy and free as I tugged him to the end of the maze and into the private room we'd been designated. There were three winners rooms set up, all with the spooky theme continuing, though with a lot less effort. Here wasn't about the spooky, it was about the dance.

Shutting the door behind us silenced the pounding music of the maze and threw us into darkness for a moment. I let go of the mystery mans hand, my skull face, and scrambled for the switch on the wall. His grip on my hip stopped me from moving far, and he tried to tug me back to him.

"Stay there," I muttered, shivering at his warmth, so close but unmoving. "Wait, let me…" I found the switch and flicked it over before leaving him and scrambling into position on the small circular stage we'd erected. I was supposed to be here and waiting when he found me at last, so the effect was a little lost. But I was nothing if not a performer.

It was only a slight step up, with a pole reaching to the ceiling in the middle. Deep red velvet drapes covered the walls, with strings of black skulls and knots of cobwebs pinned to the ceiling. A plush red chaise lounge, draped in black spider webbing and plastic spiders, sat a few feet away from the stage, a perfect viewing position.

I glanced up at the camera in the corner. We were watched in here, not actively, but if I pressed one of the many alarms in the room, it would draw the attention of whoever was on duty. A bouncer, or often Luca or Zelda, would be in within seconds, ready to help.

Fuck, I hoped no one was watching, because the idea of keeping it in my pants with this man here was an impossible thought. Bracing myself, I wrapped my palm around the metal pole and prepared myself for the show he'd paid for.

My sexy skull face dropped himself onto the chaise, spreading himself out, one arm braced on the backrest, legs wide to present his goods to me. His pants tented, and he rubbed himself through the fabric with a brazenness that did nothing to make my erection wane, flashing me a wink before gesturing for me to begin. Something about that gesture made my brain stutter, but I pushed it away.

I looked at the camera again. No way they weren't getting more of a spectacle than they'd bargained for.

The chase through the maze was the first part. This was his reward, a performance from his captive. A low, rumbling beat started up, and I swayed my hips, letting the pulse of it wash over me.

I'd never felt so damn watched as I moved, dancing and using the pole to fly around, to show off my body. I could move and bend with ease, drift from one position to the next, throwing my legs up, thrusting out my ass, rubbing my glittery skin with my hands and leaning against the pole, stretching the lacy fabric across my flesh to the extreme as I thrust and writhed.

And with each movement, I struggled to look away from the man who had me rapt. I couldn't get into the dance, into the rhythm of it, because every cell of my being lasered in on him.

When I peeled the bralette from my chest, he unzipped himself and yanked his cock free. It made me falter, lose my place in the dance. And all I could do was stare, frozen for a beat, before he cleared his throat and gestured for me to continue with that cocky assuredness that made my heavy balls squeeze. He'd taken me to the edge of an orgasm already, and a light breeze would have set me shooting off.

He ran his hands up and down his shaft, gathering any pre-cum he found with his thumb and dragging it down, his eyes never leaving mine. I turned away, took a deep breath, and rolled my hips, showing off my back, my ass, the jock strap framing my cheeks, cutting in at the top of my thigh in that perfect, juicy way.

He groaned again, and I heard him spit on his dick, the sound of his masturbation growing slicker, dirtier. My cock fucking shuddered for it, a full shaft-length throb of need.

My hands flew to my ass cheeks, and I rubbed, overcome with the urge to show him more. More of myself. Every inch. I wanted him to worship me like he'd almost done before. No one had ever—

"Show me that hole, beautiful angel," he moaned, fabric shuffling like he was moving closer. "Show me where my tongue is going to be buried."

I did it, tugged my cheeks apart for him to look his fill, exposing myself without a thought in my head.

"Bend forward. Show me how far you can fold yourself in half." His commands made my belly ache. "I know you can do it. "

My heart beat fast as I followed his orders, my dance routine forgotten as I bent at the hips, my cheeks spreading further apart for him as I went. I stopped when my nose was near my knees, and squeezed my eyes shut at how exposed I was. Opening myself to this man seemed natural, necessary.

"You're so good at that," my skull face said, and I heard a shuffle as he stood, walking over to me. "Look at you up on that stage, showing me how clever you are, how talented."

A fingernail trailed down my spine, bumping lightly over every knob of bone as he got closer and closer to where I most wanted him.

"Fucking hell, you're incredible," he sighed, almost wistful. "Stay like that."

I did. Of course I did. Even when I realized what he was doing, how he was getting himself into position behind me. How hot breath fanned across my crack when he settled on his knees and stroked my legs.

When his tongue licked over my rim, from my balls to my spine, it took everything in me not to buckle forward.

"Good boy," he soothed, his hands running up and down my thighs. "You're doing so good. Let me taste you properly. Don't move an inch."

His hot tongue swirled over my clenching hole, and I cried out, growing dizzy, as he groaned and grew desperate, eating and sucking and licking, tasting me with such thoroughness I thought I might pass out from the pleasure of it. The rasp of his tongue against sensitive, thin skin was indecent, delicious.

He fucked me with his tongue, pressing past the ring of muscle and deeper, as deep as he could get, prodding and roaming and licking to devour me, sending shivers of aching sensation racing down my unsteady legs, and up to heat my neck and chest as I tried to steady my breathing, to not pass out from the sheer intensity of the sensations he was forcing upon me.

I whined when he wouldn't stop, when I fidgeted to adjust my body to a more comfortable position and he yanked me closer still, his entire face pressed to my ass as he ravaged me. I felt his nose squash against my hole, his kisses planting all over my skin, over the globes of my ass and along my hips. He never stopped moaning and muttering about how delicious I was, how perfect, how much he craved me, and I almost let him keep me like that, upside down, prone, because I wanted him to be happy. I longed to give him everything he asked for.

But my head grew fuzzy and I began to babble, and at last, he let me collapse forward, onto my knees, chasing me down and curving his front around my back so his lips were against my ear, so as much of our bodies touched as possible. I was almost naked, but he was fully dressed, the denim and cotton of his clothes scratchy against my flushed skin.

I was sweating, loopy with lust and pleasure, and the sensation of him at my rear kicked up something primal in me. He'd captured me in that maze.

"I was right," he whispered, nipping at my lobe. "You do taste fucking amazing. Such a good boy for me, angel baby."

A laugh fell from me at the name, at my position, and at how messed up he had me. Christ, I'd never been so gone for someone I didn't even know.

"You want to taste me?" he asked, his voice almost wavering, his confidence ebbing just a touch. I'm not sure anyone else would even have noticed, but I found myself straining round to meet his mouth, to reassure him.

I kissed him, a soft one at the side of his lips. They were painted black, and some of the pigment would transfer to me if I wasn't careful. I must have a black-and-white striped dick and ass now, too, though, so who really cared?

The gasp that fell from him as our lips met was like nothing I would have expected. "Angel," he sighed, then cupped my jaw, turning me and making my entire body twist around so I was on my back, thumping to the stage with him looming over me.

"Fucking do that again," he begged, waiting for me to strain up and kiss him as he settled between my open legs. "Kiss me, baby." He squeezed his eyes closed, like he was restraining himself, and I had to have more of him, this shift in demeanor fascinating.

I lunged up and pressed my lips to his again, closed at first, chaste but needy, and kissed him. Tender, all over his lips, while he stayed so still, so steady, eyes remaining slammed shut.

He let me work over his soft mouth, his skin coming up in goosebumps as I flickered my tongue over his bottom lip and followed it with a sucking kiss. Warming his lips, making them wet and pliable, and he remained a statue through it all, but I could tell from his little gasps he was enjoying it. He held himself so stiff above me, like he might explode over any at second too.

When I started trailing my kisses down his jaw, he finally flipped.

"That fucking mouth," he growled, losing all that decorum and calm, grabbing my face and squeezing my jaw until my lips fell apart. Then his tongue was on mine, shoved deep in my mouth, massaging and roaming, seeking out every corner as he began rutting into me, his hard cock grinding against mine through too many layers of fabric .

My hands moved over his body, and he whimpered each time I touched somewhere new. His back, the top of his arms, the skin on his neck.

"Keep touching me," he cried against my mouth. "Touch me everywhere. I need you to."

For someone so commanding, he had such an interesting softness to him. A neediness I craved to heal. To fulfill.

I ghosted my hands through his hair, tugging on the longer strands, twisting locks of it behind his ear. All while he purred and groaned, shoving himself so close to me it felt like we might become a single amorphous blob of pheromones.

"Touch lower," the stranger begged, his lips moving against mine before he sucked the bottom one between his teeth, nibbling and licking.

My hands moved down his solid, muscled back, down and around his waist, to his tight stomach. His breath hitched when I moved my fingertips over his navel and settled with my grip on his jeans.

"Your hands on me," he whispered. "Fuck, your hands on me…"

When I went to slip beneath his jeans, he reacted with a jolt, rearing up and off, yanking me to my stumbling feet as he did.

"Need you naked," he said. "On the couch. "

I huffed out a laugh, horniness rolling through me as I walked backwards until the back of my shins hit the plush fabric.

"Strip it away, beautiful," he cooed, tipping his head. "I'm going to eat you up."

"What if I want to eat you up first?" I teased, biting my lip.

His strange colored eyes heated. Fuck, something familiar struck me with that look again. It was dark in here, though, my vision playing tricks on me.

"Get that lip out from between your teeth or we won't make it any further." His voice was almost cold as he spoke, and it sent shivers through me. I chewed my lip more. To tease, or to soothe myself, I couldn't be sure. He's switched up again, demanding of me, that whimpering neediness hidden once more. Interesting.

"A—Angel. Now." He stepped closer to me, one slow step that made me gasp, made my lip pop free. Spit slicked and sensitive. I'd always had such big lips, had to work to love them, but as an adult, I did. They looked amazing painted red or shining with lip gloss under the stage lights.

I rolled my lips together, holding my breath. The urge to be bad for him grew, to go against his wishes and be naughty. What would he do? Would he punish me? I squeezed my cock through the wet lace, cupping it, and dragged my teeth across my bottom lip again.

"Please be good for me, baby," he whispered, stepping into my space and running his nose along mine. I kept my lip between my teeth as he sighed and rested his thumb on my chin, just below my mouth. "Be good for me, my angel. Let that lip go."

He tugged my chin down and my lip popped free. Before I could react, he was kissing me again. Groaning into my mouth as he forced his tongue in.

"Fuck, you taste so good. I want to drown you in syrup and cream and lick it all back up," he said into my mouth between licks and bites and kisses. "I want to fuck my cum into you and eat it back out, share it with you. I bet your cum is delicious, musky and salty and all you."

"Please," I cried, desperate in that moment to know his name. "I want you inside me now."

"Turn around."

When I didn't do as he asked, still kissing him, smearing his face paint into a gray mess, he forced me to turn, twisting my body and pushing my back so I fell onto the chaise, bent at the hips with my ass presented to him. Still framed in the lace jock strap, I was so wonderfully exposed.

I heard him work up a glob of spit, and a second later it landed wet on my hole .

"I don't have lube," he said. "But I want to take you raw, anyway. Make it hurt a little. I bet you've had plenty in here before, huh?" he asked, his finger scooping the trail of his spit from my taint and swirling it around my still slick ass hole.

I twitched, his question throwing me for a moment. He sounded possessive, irritated, even.

"You had many boyfriends? Girls with a penchant for pegging?"

"What?" I tried to turn, my buzz dulling a little, but then he drove that finger inside me, and everything rushed back in a haze of heat.

"Shh," he soothed, fucking his finger in and out of me. "Let me get you ready."