The Whispers of Silence

|10.|

Lenora Dutch

I fiddled with the camera, finding the power button after a few seconds of searching.

"You sure you want to see me?" I asked him, feeling self-conscious. "I don't have any makeup on."

"I don't give a shit," X growled. "I've seen you without plenty of times."

My heart swelled. I'd always made an effort to wear something nice for him, to wear nice clothes and pretty makeup. Which meant he'd been looking at me when I wasn't ready for him. I should have known, really.

"Been stalking me, X?" I asked him playfully, and he growled into the phone, sending shivers down my spine.

"You wish I was," he said. "You wish I'd come up behind you and drag you into an empty fucking alley. Fuck your brains out in there and toss you aside like you meant nothing."

It hurt to hear him talk that way, but I didn't care, because it made me impossibly, unbearably wet.

"You want to use me?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"Don't you want me to?" His voice was gentle and sweet, calming.

It was a sharp contrast to the words coming out of his mouth, yet I found it fucking irresistible. His whole demeanor, the way he was condescending yet dominant, caring but cruel. It was a delicious cocktail and I needed another sip.

But the whole time, there was a nagging voice in the back of my head, whispering nasty things in my ear and making me think I wasn't good enough.

I really wasn't. I was a poor little rich girl, abandoned by most of her friends and family. I had all the money in the world but I had fucking nothing to show for it. An empty life filled with thousand-dollar handbags and smudged designer lipstick, a pussy forever dripping with cum, and lips that tasted like whatever drink was trending.

"Lenora," he interrupted my thoughts. "Where did you go, my pretty little slut?"

My hands shook as I switched the camera on and turned it towards my face. I heard him groan in seconds, and a sheen of cold sweat covered my skin, nerves getting the better of me.

Not. Fucking. Good. Enough.

Never was, never would be.

"I'm here," I whispered, my eyes darting between the camera and the window. I couldn't see him anymore and it made me feel alone. "Can you see me?"

"Yeah," he muttered. "I can see you."

An awkward silence followed, and finally, he spoke again.

"Put your phone down and put it on speaker," he said.

I was so fucking scared my legs barely carried me over to the living room area. I placed my phone on the coffee table, following his instructions. His deep, booming voice filled the room.

"Good girl."

God, he got me so fucking wet. Just two little words in that sinful voice of his and I was putty in his hands. I had to bite my tongue before I gave him more. Before I fucking humiliated myself and promised him anything and everything he ever wanted. Because I was already fucking ready to give it to him. But I'd never let him know that. Never ever.

"Hold the camera out so I can see you," Miles said, and I stretched my arms out, giving him a good look.

I panned the lens over my body, the little silk nightie I was wearing and the kimono robe on top of it. I deliberately ended the shot just above my lips.