Mason Graves
The moment the screen flickered, showing her kneeling there, naked but for the flush across her skin and the faint tremble of her fingers, something inside me snapped.
God, my kitten. My beautiful, perfect girl.
Thousands of miles separated us, yet here she was — so open, so willing, waiting for me like I was the only thing she needed. Like she didn’t care that I wasn’t there to touch her in person. She trusted me to take her apart with nothing but my voice, my commands.
My hand tightened around the tie still hanging loose at my throat as I leaned closer to the laptop, needing to see every inch of her a little clearer. Rain pounded against the windows of my hotel room, but I barely heard it. The only sound that mattered was her shaky breathing through the speakers, the tin
