Completely his.
I study him as he kneels between my legs. He seems in a daze as he strokes the head of his cock along the slick tape between my legs, massaging the shape of my cunt underneath. But his length slides lower, seeking more forbidden ground.
He spits on himself.
“No,” I gasp, trembling. “Please—”
But he’s already there.
No mercy. Just his cock, thick and relentless, stretching me where I’m vulnerable, where he’s made sure I’m ready for him.
I cry out, visceral.
“That’s the sound I wanted,” he grunts. “Squeal for me, Betty Pig.”
Then—
“Starting without me?” a voice hisses.
My heart stops.
Meghan.
She enters in red latex, wielding a paddle. Her stilettos click against the floor as she stalks toward the bed, totally unfazed by what she’s walking in on.
Panic floods me.
“Please, Grayson! Don’t let her—” My voice shakes.
Grayson’s fingers dig into my hips. But he’s not thrusting. He’s still. Tense. However, I can’t see his expression.
Meghan slinks closer. Her sharp nails grab my hair. “Did you really think I’d let him live here with you and not make money off the show?”
Pain burns in my scalp. In my back. I’m frozen, and frankly, scared.
Meghan pulls harder on my hair. Her lips part and spit leaks down, aiming straight at my forehead! It dangles, nearing—
Grayson moves. Fast.
Thump.
Meghan hits the floor.
He’s over me again, mask off, breath scorching my neck. “Nobody touches you, baby. Andnobodyspits on my girl. Exceptme.” A thin ribbon of spit lands on my cheek, then his tongue follows, licking it off with a low growl. “Understand?”
My body just nods, fully under his spell.
He’s bare-faced now, his expression twisted in something that looks a lot like... love.
Just then, more people enter. Two guys. I panic, but he covers me with a sheet, then jumps into pants, standing in front of me like a wall of muscle and rage.
Meghan groans behind him. “This wasn’t the scene, Grayson! You fuck her. I ride her face. And who are these guys?”
The slightest smirk curves his lips as he tilts his head to the camera. “It’s just a standby light. It’s not even recording.”
“What?” she balks.
I sit up fast. “Yeah, you mean, the camera is not streaming?”
