Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

A ngela extended the sleek, black cock ring toward Holden, her fingers inadvertently grazing his. The fleeting touch sent an unexpected jolt through her, a silent echo of desire.

God, but the man was beautiful. She'd thought so the first time he'd come in and modeled for them. It wasn't just that his cock was long and thick; it was the control he had over his erection.

Angela wanted to break that control. She wanted to have him writhing in pleasure. The cock ring would be the perfect tool to do so.

She cleared her throat, focusing on professionalism. "This little marvel is engineered to amplify pleasure for both partners, but it can be used solo. Its vibrations can resonate in harmony with your body's rhythm, creating an intense experience."

Holden's gaze lingered on the device, a mixture of curiosity and raw need reflected in his eyes. His hands, those large, capable instruments that had undoubtedly explored every curve and contour of desire, now trembled slightly as he reached for the ring.

"I put myself in your capable hands, Dr. Prescott."

His attempt to slip the ring onto his impressive girth was clumsy, the tremor in his hands betraying an unusual nervousness. Angela watched her pulse quickening at the sight of his vulnerability. It was a rare glimpse beyond the confident facade of Holden Tighe, adult film icon.

"Here, let me help you with that," Angela offered, her voice steady despite the heat pooling within her. She took the ring from his fumbling grip and with deft movements born from her intimate knowledge of the device, positioned it at the base of his erection.

The smooth silicone slid against his heated skin, and as she secured it into place, Holden's body shuddered beneath her touch. His breath hitched. Angela felt a surge of power, knowing she had elicited such a response.

"Ready?" she asked, her fingers hovering over the sleek remote control.

"Born ready," Holden drawled, his voice a velvet rumble that made her heart skip a beat.

She bit back a smile and pressed the button, activating the cock ring at its lowest setting. A silent buzz filled the air, a whisper of what was to come.

"Would you describe the sensations for me, Mr. Tighe?"

"Feels like a gentle embrace," Holden commented, his eyes locked on to hers.

The mood in the room shifted, the air charged with a new energy—one that was as much about their burgeoning rapport as it was the experiment at hand. Angela found herself leaning forward, drawn into the magnetic field that seemed to pulse around Holden. Even as she monitored his reactions, part of her reveled in the dance of their banter, each quip a step closer to something neither of them fully understood but both were eager to explore.

She watched Holden as he relaxed into the leather of the recliner. His every muscle was outlined and taut like a panther poised for pounce. She turned up the dial another notch.

"And now?" she asked, her voice smooth as silk, eyes never straying from the junction where technology met flesh.

"Ah," Holden began, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, "it's pleasurable." He paused, his gaze intensifying as it locked on to hers. "But I've got to be honest, Angela, I'm nowhere close to an orgasm. At least not from the ring."

His gaze racked over her body. And there was that control again. He'd never had an orgasm in the chair. He was one of the models that kept his pleasure completely professional.

"I can increase the vibrations."

"That. Or…" His voice dropped to a husky timbre that sent a shiver down her spine. "Keep talking to me."

Angela couldn't help the smile that flirted with her lips. A bolt of excitement shot through her—this was uncharted territory, even for her.

"Tell me, Angela. How did someone as brilliant and beautiful as you end up in the toy-making industry?"

Angela's hands stilled on the controls, her pulse quickening. She recognized the spark in his eyes, the genuine curiosity. It was rare for anyone to inquire about her passion without judgment or innuendo. For a moment, she allowed herself to indulge in the fantasy that this was just two people sharing their stories, not a calculated exchange in a controlled environment.

"I was always fascinated by the mechanics of pleasure. The way desire can be both mental and physical... it's like solving the most intricate puzzle." Her fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of the control panel as she spoke.

"Every toy I design is a challenge. To enhance, to innovate, to push boundaries. I'm not just making toys; I'm creating experiences, unlocking new realms of satisfaction.”

Holden nodded, hanging on to her every word. His interest seemed sincere, and it wasn't long before Angela found herself divulging tidbits of her journey—how she'd built her first prototype in college, the thrill of seeing her ideas come to life, the rush of witnessing someone lose themselves in a sensation she'd crafted.

"You’re a real artist here," Holden said, a note of awe threading through his words. The air between them was thick with something more than just professionalism—it was admiration, connection, the recognition of one craftsman by another.

Angela felt a warmth bloom within her, a heat that had little to do with the ambient temperature of the room or the device buzzing quietly at Holden's groin. This was the heat of being seen—not just for her mind or her skills, but for the fervor that drove her. And for a fleeting second, she wondered what it would be like to explore this electricity that sizzled softly between them, away from the numbers and the data and the clinical setting.

"You're quite the masterpiece yourself." Angela's thumb grazed the dial before giving it a deliberate twist. The faint buzzing amplified as she watched Holden's reaction. His jaw clenched ever so slightly, eyes lidded with a shimmering layer of restrained pleasure.

"That's nice," he said as his body rolled in the chair.

"I'm beginning to think you might not be the best test subject."

His eyes shot open, a slight panic in his gaze. "I am a professional."

"Which is why I want your opinion. If I can’t bring you to pleasure, then the ordinary man doesn't stand a chance."

"Being in the industry... it's not all it's cracked up to be." He glanced down at the device encircling him, a metaphor for his own vulnerability. "People see the body, the performance, but they don't see me. They don’t know that I crave something real, something lasting."

His chuckle was low and sensual, and she knew then that they were no longer just talking about toys or films. They were speaking the language of desire, and it was far more potent than any device she could engineer. The man sprawled in the recliner was known for his carnal prowess, yet here he was, peeling back layers of his persona that the camera never captured.

"True connection, acceptance... That's what I'm after," he continued, his voice softening. "I hope you can see past the exterior, Angela. See who I really am."

She reached out, her hand tentatively resting atop his. The contact was electric. Holden's breath hitched, his body tensing. It wasn't the cock ring that brought him off. It was her touch, maybe even her understanding, that tipped him over the edge, sending him spiraling into the blissful abyss.

Angela observed, her heart thrumming in sync with the pulse of his release. And as she watched him unravel beneath her fingertips, she couldn't deny the stirring of her own desire—an unspoken yearning to dive into the depths of this man who had bared his soul as effortlessly as he had his skin.