Scarlett

The private session timer had barely hit forty minutes when I leaned forward, still breathing a little hard from the aftershocks, the red lace mask slightly askew.

“Sorry… it wasn’t a full hour,” I said, staring at the black screen where Vee’s camera stayed stubbornly off. “I can keep going if you want. More rounds. Whatever you need.”

“It’s fine,” Vee’s voice came back, still filtered through that obvious voice changer—low, slightly robotic, but undeniably male. “Instead… can you hear me touch myself?”

I swallowed hard, instinctively folding my arms across my bare chest, the cool air brushing over my still-sensitive nipples. “Why?”

“I’m paying,” he replied simply.

The...