Dirty Bad Wrong Read Online Free Page A

I know how wet you get over nipple torture.”
    “So thoughtful,” she grinned. “Playroom three, Cara, now. Don’t you dare touch yourself.”
    Cara tottered off without hesitation, and I watched her tight little curves sashay away. I turned back to find Raven staring at me, her eyes just inches from mine. She trailed a finger down my nose, pretending to peek under the mask that covered most of my face.
    “I’m beginning to forget what you look like under that thing,” she laughed.
    “Maybe that’s the plan.”
    “So sad. Your face is too pretty to hide, Masque. You used to at least take the thing off between scenes.”
    “It’s growing on me. Besides, I don’t really want my face being snapped in this place, regardless of whether I’m flogging the shit out of some young plaything or not.”
    “Everyone knows the no-camera rule.”
    “Wherever there are rules they are inevitably broken.”
    “Fair, but your face isn’t exactly your only recognisable feature,” she laughed, tracing the tail of the tattoo on my chest. “You can’t get a mask for that thing.”
    “Nobody outside of this place ever sees that thing.” I took her hand in mine as she continued her journey down the beast. “But this thing.” I pointed to my face. “People see this thing all the time.”
    “It must get so complicated being you, so many lives...” she mocked. “One day you’ll wear the mask to the office and the suit to the club, you know that right?”
    “And that’s the day I quit town and start all over again.”
    “Such a drama queen...”
    “Anonymity suits me.”
    “ Control suits you, Masque, ” she grinned. “I think you were born with a crop in your hand.”
    “It was a cane, actually,” I smiled. “And I hope I die with one in my hand, too.”
    She leant in close, her hand still pressed to my chest. The deep plum notes of Poison kissed my nostrils as I breathed her in. She slid her hand down my stomach to the bulge in my jeans, and whispered so softly into my ear I could hardly hear her.
    “You didn’t cum, did you? I know you didn’t. You need a proper scene, James, without holding back. Tame doesn’t suit you.”
    “I’m not tame.”
    “You were a pussycat with Cara, she won’t even bruise.”
    “ Cara is the pussycat, Bex. I hope for her sake she doesn’t say yes to moving into yours, you’d break her in a week. You and I both know she wouldn’t cope with the hard stuff.”
    “You’d better get it on with someone who would then.” I felt her lips against my ear.
    “Is that a hint? You priming me for your bi-annual foray into the world of submission?”
    She squeezed my cock. “Nah. Anyway, you don’t have a pussy.” She let me go and walked away, tossing me a smile over her shoulder.
    “Since when has that been a deal breaker?” I called after her.
    “Since tonight.” She blew me a kiss.
     
    ***
     
     
    I’m always the only one in the office at 6am. I love the quiet, before the place fills up with people and the general office bullshit that comes along with them. I made myself a coffee in silence, pondering my workload for the coming week. Sales had just landed a big deal, a bespoke solution for White Hastings McCarthy, one of the top five law firms in the country; a seven hundred seat initial installation across three branches, with seven case management worktypes to scope out. The whole thing was ripe for my desk.
    My mind began to assemble the potential project outline. This one would take a lot of co-ordination. A lot of people. I hate all that shit.
    I leant back against the worktop to sip my coffee. Black, no sugar, just the way I like it. Just how Lydia Marsh had made it. My mind bailed without warning; thoughts unravelling and skittering away. There, in their stead, was a full colour rerun of my Friday morning peepshow. Lydia Marsh’s tear-streaked face in full focus, and her eyes, so fucking green. Jesus.
    Bex was right. I did need a proper scene. The need to