Scintillate, verb
To emit sparks, to twinkle as the stars.
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,” Miles 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, Miles?” 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.
“Bebe,” 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.
“Your face,” Miles rasped. “Let me see your fucking face, sugar.”
“I don’t want to,” I whispered.
“Why?” He didn’t sound angry, or disappointed, and it almost scared me more.
“I’m…” I swallowed thickly, the embarrassing weight of the truth heavy on the tip of my tongue. “I’m not ready, I… I’m worried you won’t like me like this.”
“Like what?” he wanted to know.
He was making me blush, tears gathering in my eyes, even though I was too stubborn to let them fall. I hated it, and I didn’t want him to know.
“The way I am,” I explained. “The way I look.”
“Why wouldn’t I like it?” There was a hint of anger in his voice.
“Because you like beautiful girls,” I whispered. “Beautiful, thin, sexy, flawless dolls.”
He was quiet for a second too long, and it killed me inside. I was just about ready to end the call when he spoke, gentler this time.
“Look over here,” he said, and I moved towards the window, my palms landing on the cool glass, my eyes finding him.
There was a message scribbled on the window, the letters clumsy and fucked up from where he’d tried to make them face me. The words were written in thick slashes of pink lipstick, probably something the girl from a few days ago had left in his apartment.
YOU’RE SO BEAUTIFUL IT HURTS
My fingers slid down the glass and I looked at him, so fucking far away, feeling closer and yet farther away than ever.
I was falling for him. Slowly slowly slowly falling, feeling my body getting pulled by the current, sinking, sinking deep.
Miles was in my head.
In my pussy.
He was in the shivers down my spine.
In the tremble of my fingers.
Miles was in my body without ever being inside me.
Thank you, I mouthed. His face contorted in a grin that looked almost painful, and I let myself fall because I knew it was inevitable.
I already belonged to him.
“Now, sugar,” he said gently through the speaker. “Back to your little task, don’t be a bad girl.”
I took the camera and panned it over my face, my eyes downcast, my lashes resting against my cheeks.
“Beautiful…” Miles’ voice was gentle yet firm on the speaker. “You’re so beautiful. Show me more. I fucking want more.”
I held the camera in front of me, slowly opening my eyes, my lashes going up and up and up until he could see my eyes, still filled with a few tears and sparkling with emotion. I heard him take a sharp intake of breath when I looked at him through the lens, and I smiled shyly at the camera.
I stared at the camera, feeling like I was looking straight into his eyes. Then, I slowly panned the camera down over my body. I arched my back and my tits jutted out for him, so desperate to have him take me, to feel something special other than meaningless cocks and the numb emptiness that had filled my days since we lost Posy.
“Strip,” Miles ordered me, and it was my turn to gasp. “Come on, sugar, be a good girl for me and strip. I want to see you.”
With shaky hands, I placed the camera down on the side table; it seemed to be around the right height to capture all of me. I stood back, smiled at the camera, and slowly peeled off my kimono.
The silk felt cool and pleasant against my skin as I slid it off, the pretty fabric pooling around my feet. I loved having this power over him, hearing him gasp over the speaker on my phone, his voice a low rumble and his words demanding more as I teased him. I didn’t understand why he didn’t just come over. I had never met a guy who was as patient as Miles was.
Because we both knew how this was going to end.
With his cock all the way inside me and his hands around my throat.
With my pussy spasming around him and Miles filling me up like I wanted him to.
It would be the best sex I’d ever have, I was already certain of it.
But what scared me was that I already wanted so much more.
I blocked the dangerous thought as soon as it entered my mind, instead focusing on taunting him, making sure he saw every inch of me exposed for him.
“Do you want more?” I asked, my body swaying to the rhythm of the music playing in my mind.
“Fuck yes,” Miles growled. “Of course I want more, sugar. Get naked for me. Everything off. I want to see every gorgeous inch of you.”
I felt my nipples tighten at his words; felt the rush of heat to my pussy as I slipped the straps of my nightie down my shoulders, revealing inch after inch of my tanned skin. He growled at the sight of it, but it only served to encourage me, and I slid the silk off, over my tits, exposing myself to the camera.
“Do you like me?” I asked softly, my hands touching my pebbled nipples and tweaking them into hard buds desperate for Miles’ lips locking around them, biting down until I had tears in my eyes. “Do you like what you see? Doesn’t it make you want me, Miles? Doesn’t it make you want to come over here… and just… fucking… take me?”
I mewled when I pinched my own nipples, and the low growl that came over the speaker made my legs go weak. I backed up against the window without looking over my shoulder, my back leaning against the cool glass, my ass pushed against it so he could see me from all sides—my front with the camera, my ass with a look through the window.
“Don’t fucking tempt me,” he said as I took hold of the hem of my nightie, lifting it slowly, revealing my tanned thighs.
“Or what?” I asked, and peeled it all the way off.
I stood in front of him in nothing but a lacy black thong, and I could feel the tension coming off him from all the way over the street. He wanted me just as much as I wanted him, but for some reason, he was staying the fuck away. And an evil little part of me wanted him to break, wanted him to say fuck it and just come over and feed me his cock until I choked on his hot cum.
But he wouldn’t. He groaned and growled and cursed but he didn’t break, and it made me feel so fucking useless I had to blink the tears away.
“Please,” I said in my softest voice.
He didn’t hear it. He couldn’t, I was too far away from my phone. But then he spoke again, and hearing his voice again made it all okay.
“Bebe… sugar,” he said, his voice torn. “I want you. I want you too much.”
“I know,” I whispered, my thumbs hooking under my thong, toying with it. “I know you do, Miles, I want you too…”
“You don’t get it,” he said, his voice strained. “I fucking want you.”
I slid the thong off, over my hips, onto the floor. I’d had a fresh wax only a day ago and he groaned at the sight of my bare pussy as my fingers slid over the lips, opening them up for him, offering him a look inside me.
“Tell me what to do,” I rasped. “Tell me what you want me to do to your pussy, Miles.”
“Move the camera closer,” he said. “I want to see close up.”
I did as I was told, moved the camera to the low coffee table and then I sat on the sofa in front of it, opening my legs for him.
“Like this?” I asked him.
“Perfect,” he said, “Now, open for me,” he growled. “Open your pretty slit for me, sugar, I want to see you fucking exposed.”
My fingers trembled as I pulled the lips of my pussy back, showing him my clit, shivering from the cool air of the room hitting it in a way that almost felt like a tickle.
“Do you like me like this?” I asked gently. “Do you like that I’d let you do anything to me, Miles?”
“Yes,” he said. “I love it. I fucking love it. The way you are. What you want. This fucking… need to…”
“To what?” I whispered, my finger dipping inside me for just a second.
Miles cursed as I brought it out and licked at the juice on the tip of it.
“The need to fuck you,” he went on. “I’m not like this. I’m not some fucking animal. It’s you, you make me this way. I fucking need it. Need to take you. Need to hold you down. Need to take it all away from you.”
“Let me fuck your pussy for you,” I said, my mind spinning from his words. “Let me do it, please.”
“Fuck it,” he ordered. “But don’t you dare fucking come. Remember, you always need permission for that.”
“Y-yes,” I whispered.
“Yes what?” he demanded.
“Yes… Thank you, Miles.”
A silence followed, and I wondered whether he thought I’d call him a name that suited his dominant nature. But I couldn’t—didn’t want to. Miles felt too perfect on my lips, so fucking intimate and special.
“Fuck it,” he growled. “Fuck. It. Now.”
I did. Hitched my ass forward and sunk two fingers deep.
I heard him breathing, shallow and desperate, and I could tell he was palming his dick. I fingered my needy cunt and brought myself so close I thought I was going to pass out from the sensation of having only my fingers inside me, and then I dropped to my knees and looked into the camera on the coffee table.
“Want to see something?” I asked him shakily, and his answer came back right away.
“Show me.”
“Let me come,” I begged, placing the camera between my legs so he had a perfect view of my cunt. “Let it come for you, Miles. See how desperate I am? See how fucking wet I am?”
I pulled my pussy open, making it leak all over the hardwood floor beneath my ass.
“Jesus fuck,” he said. “Fucking come, Bebe. Count to five and come with me.”
“One,” I whispered, slipping three fingers inside myself. “Two…”
“Faster,” he said, his voice needier than I’d ever heard it. “Fucking faster, Bebe!”
“Three.”
I fucked myself so hard my legs kept spasming and my pussy made wet squelchy sounds.
“Four, please, Miles, fuck, please…”
“Five,” he grunted, and I came for him, spraying the camera when my pussy squirted and my fingers came out.
I fucking howled and he laughed at me, laughed with a desperate edge.
“You fucking dirty little slut,” he said, and I fell back on the floor, raising the camera over me and licking the lens. “Jesus, Bebe, you’re something fucking else.”
I stared at him, my breaths slowing and my pussy starting to ache.
“Thank you, Miles,” I whispered. “Did I make you come?”
“Yeah,” he grunted. “All over my fucking fist.”
“Let me lick it off,” I said softly.
He went silent.
And it took me a minute to realize he’d ended the call.