Unwrapped Desires

The soft hum of my ring light filled the quiet, a faint buzz in an otherwise still room. I adjusted the camera again—tilting it down, nudging it just slightly to the left—until the frame was just right. Perfect.

On the screen, my reflection stared back. Cherry red lips curled in a confident smirk, eyes sultry, teasing. In this light, I didn’t look like Aria Vale—the exhausted freelancer scraping by, who counted every cent and worried about her sister’s next hospital bill.

No.

Tonight, I was Luna.

Flawless. Desired. Powerful.

My fingers flew over the keyboard as notifications began to chime, one after the other.

“Welcome back, Luna ”

“That red set should be illegal…”

“On your knees for Daddy.”

I laughed softly, slow and breathy, then eased down to my knees on the plush faux-fur rug. The red lace clung to my curves—thin straps barely holding me in, the thong cutting a daring line along my hips.

But I didn’t dress for them.

I dressed for him.

My gaze flicked to the list of usernames scrolling beside the stream. And there it was—Obsidian. No tip. No message. Just… there. Watching. Silent.

Always silent.

He never chatted. Never begged. Never demanded. He didn’t have to.

The toy inside me—the Lush—remained still. For now. My viewers didn’t know when he’d appear. Neither did I. But when he did… I felt it before I saw it.

And then it happened. A deep, steady pulse lit up inside me—sudden and deliberate. Not playful. Not random.

Him.

My breath hitched, fingers clutching the soft rug beneath me. My body twitched in response, hips shifting instinctively.

I forced a teasing smile. “Looks like someone’s feeling generous tonight,” I purred, biting down on my lip just enough to drive them crazy.

The tips exploded. Comments flew by. But none of them mattered.

Only one man had control of that toy.

And it wasn’t the ones calling me “baby” or begging to see more. It was Obsidian. Always him.

The rhythm of the vibrations wasn’t just arousing—it was intimate. Familiar. Like he knew my body better than I did. It wasn’t wild or erratic. It was deliberate. Commanding.

I squeezed my thighs together, pulse quickening. My audience probably thought it was all part of the act. They always did. But what he did to me?

That wasn’t acting. That was real.

“Bounce for us.”

“Harder.”

“Beg.”

The chat kept begging. I didn’t even blink. My eyes stayed fixed on the little red recording light, my world narrowing down to that pulsing toy, to the control he had over me from wherever he was.

The Lush kicked up another level—intense, almost cruel. I gasped, head falling back as a shiver tore through me.

“God…” I murmured. “You don’t play fair.”

Right then, it stopped.

Just like that.

Silence.

The sudden absence of sensation was almost painful. I was breathless, trembling, skin damp with sweat. The rest of the stream kept going—people typing, tipping, shouting. I barely noticed.

Then my phone lit up.

A message.

Obsidian: Touch yourself, Luna. But don’t come until I say.

I stared.

He’d never messaged me before.

My heart skipped. My hand shook. Slowly, I slid one hand down my belly, pushing the lace aside, while the other hovered over the keyboard.

Luna: Yes, Sir.

The toy buzzed to life again—soft this time. A low, maddening tease. I moaned, stroking myself gently, my body already desperate. It was like I’d been conditioned, like my nerve endings remembered him. Needed him.

And I didn’t even know what he looked like.

I didn’t know his voice.

Just… this.

Obsidian: Stop.

I froze. Immediately.

Obsidian: Count to twenty. Then beg.

I whimpered but obeyed.

“One… two… three…” My voice cracked. “Four… five…”

By the time I got to twenty, my thighs were trembling. My breath was shallow, needy. “Please,” I whispered, completely undone. “Please let me come. Please, Sir…”

Another pulse.

Then nothing.

The toy shut off again, leaving me on the edge—aching, soaked, shaking.

Obsidian: Good girl. Now turn off the stream. You're done for tonight.

I stared at the screen. My viewers were still there—hundreds of them, probably wondering what had happened. I hadn’t even taken my top off.

But he didn’t care about the show.

He wanted me.

And the truth was… for the first time, Luna wasn’t the one in control.

He was.

XANDER

I watched her fall apart from 3,000 miles away.

Her chest rose and fell in shaky waves. Her lips parted, her body trembling. She whispered one word like it cost her everything.

“Please.”

She had no idea what she did to me when she said it like that—like I was the only one who could give her permission to breathe.

I sat in the dark, lit only by the glow of her image on my screen. One hand hovered over the controls, the other clenched around the edge of my desk. The soft thrum of my servers in the next room filled the silence, but her voice still rang in my ears.

“Please let me come, Sir…”

God help me.

I exhaled, slow and tight, trying to keep my pulse steady. I shouldn’t care this much. She was supposed to be just another cam girl. A fleeting indulgence. A distraction from the cold, empty walls of this penthouse.

But she wasn’t.

She never had been.

I stared at the screen like it might blink back to life. She was lying there, stretched out in red lace that hugged her curves like it had been made for her. Her thighs trembled, her mouth was still parted from the last moan I’d pulled from her with a single tap of my finger.

She didn’t know I’d altered the Lush code—modified the app to give me real-time biofeedback. Her heartbeat. Her breath rate. The way her voice trembled when she said my name.

She didn’t know that every inch of her performance wasn’t just being streamed. It was being recorded, analyzed, memorized.

She thought I was just another anonymous tipper.

She didn’t know I already knew her real name.

She didn’t know I watched her even when she wasn’t streaming.

I leaned back in my chair and dragged a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the need that sat like a weight in my chest. I didn’t want her like the others did—not for a cheap thrill or a moment of power.

I wanted more.

I wanted to own every second of her life the way she unknowingly owned every second of mine.

I wanted her laughter. Her fear. Her bad habits. Her silence.

And it scared the hell out of me.

Because for a man who had everything, I shouldn’t want anything this badly.

Especially not someone I’ve never touched.

I closed the laptop and stood, walking to the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the city. The skyline glittered like it always did—cold, perfect, untouchable.

Just like me.

Or at least, that’s what I wanted the world to believe.

But behind my ribs, something beat fast and raw.

Because every night she came apart under my control…

I broke a little more for her.

One day soon, I was going to stop hiding behind the screen.