Voyeur Ch. 04

"It smells so good!" Rachel breathed, eagerly watching him blow on the tip.

"Ok, it's cool enough," he confirmed.

Encircling her waist with one arm to draw her against his chest, he dangled the spoon just above her extended tongue. Before she could taste, he quickly replaced it with his mouth.

"Mhf!" Rachel protested, pulling away from his forceful kiss. "Ben!"

"Fuck, I know. I couldn't help it," he chuckled, stealing a last kiss before offering the spoon. "I'll be good from hereon. I'll try."

Eyeing him suspiciously, Rachel gingerly dabbed at the sauce with her tongue, then gently sucked the end of the spoon and hummed approval.

"Mmm. Such a rich flavour," she sighed, oblivious to the way Ben was looking at her.

"Huh?" he said distantly, transfixed by the way her tongue and mouth worked the end of the utensil he held. He was going out of his mind with lust. "Do...Do you want some more?"

Her eyes brightened and she nodded, and Ben quickly turned off the stove.

"We just have to wait a bit," he said thickly, pressing closer. "Until I cool down. I mean, until it cools down..."

Cornering Rachel against the counter, Ben lifted her so her thighs were around his waist like the first night they met.

"Ben! B-but..." Rachel said, slightly dazed.

"You're right. There's a problem," he smiled. Leaning so the counter supported her weight, he reached between them to release his cock from his pants. "That's better!"

Ideas of hunger quickly fled Rachel's mind as she was encompassed in Ben's warm embrace, the heat of his smooth skin moved against her breasts, rubbing her nipples to a sensitive perkiness.

"Oh, isn't that better?" Ben groaned, adjusting his position to slowly enter her. Rachel gripped the sides of his arms as incredible sensations flowed through her body with every inch of him.

"Yes," she breathed, widening her thighs so he could slide deeper. "Yes, it is..."

"Oh, fuck!" Ben exclaimed, and Rachel whimpered as he pulled out. "Oh, my."

"W-What is it?" she faltered, shaking with excitement. "Why did you stop?"

"Tut-tut, Rae," he grinned evilly. "I don't have a condom."

"Oh! But...!" she protested, somewhat alarmed by her weakness. "You must have one, somewhere!?"

"Nope," he sighed with exaggerated sadness, still teasing her entrance with the tip of his cock. "And I was so enjoying this moment..."

"You're baiting me!" she complained, slapping his shoulder as he laughed.

"It is something I would do," he admitted, kissing her forehead. "But honestly, I got carried away and forgot. I'll be more honest - I have condoms upstairs. But if we go up there, we will never get to have dinner."

Rachel blew out a frustrated, thoughtful breath. "Well..."

"I have an alternative," Ben whispered and dropped to his knees.

As his lips intimately moved against her pussy, Rachel immediately wrapped her legs around his head whilst clutching the counter for support.

Stroking with his tongue, Ben grinned against the soft flesh as rivulets of her arousal transferred to his lips and chin. Reaching down, he began to jerk his cock.

"Uh," Rachel moaned, arching back against the counter, lightly thrusting against his face.

Ben's hot breath was additionally stimulating as he began to pant, and Rachel felt him pumping his cock. It was very erotic, and she wasn't going to last long. Her hand urgently tangled through Ben's dark hair and pressed him closer. His tongue talentedly delved into her, teasing the area. But somehow, he avoided her clit, which he could tell by the way she kept shifting to guide him, ached for attention.

"Talk to me, Rae," he said thickly against her skin, retreating to kiss her inner thigh before resuming. "Talk to me, and I'll give you what you want."

"B-but..." Rachel faltered with dismay. She gasped as his tongue ever so lightly dabbed her clit. "Yes, there!" she begged, closing her eyes.

"Will you come, if I lick you here?" he smiled, trailing his tongue around her sensitive button in a tantalising circle.

"Yes!" Rachel exclaimed, moving against his face. "I will! Yes, I will! Ben, please!"

"Fuck!" Ben panted, and slid his thumb inside her. Then he continued to tease her nub with his tongue, before he gently surrounded it with his lips, and sucked.

"Oh...OH! I'm...I'm coming!" Rachel half-shouted, staring at the wall ahead with wide, desperate eyes, her mouth hanging open as the incredible pleasure between her legs rapidly heightened to reverberate through the rest of her body.

Feeling her hand clench in his hair, Ben grunted as Rachel's fresh juices soaked his face. The way she responded to his mouth was the hottest thing. A second later, Ben covered the counter wall in cum while her pussy continued to pulsate against his mouth, and contract around his thumb.

Ben stayed on his knees for a moment, breathing heavily against her soft thigh. Rachel was still gasping for breath. Ben finally emerged, and his dark eyes turned wicked as Rachel's dismayed gaze registered his saturated lower jaw. When he suggestively licked his lips, she squealed with embarrassment and covered her face.

"Aw. Come here, baby rabbit," Ben grinned, drawing her into his arms.

"Don't worry, we'll keep practicing until you're comfortable asking me to tongue-fuck you..." he teased, chuckling when a muffled, indignant sound vibrated against his chest. Giving her a last little squeeze, he looked to the stove.

"You know, it's fucking ridiculous how happy you make me," he confessed, leaning back to ruffle her hair. Cupping her flushed cheek, he peered at her face until she reluctantly returned his stare. "Let's assemble dinner. Then we have to go upstairs."

"W-what's upstairs?" Rachel asked faintly, mesmerised by his smouldering gaze.

"Condoms. In abundance."

"I thought you don't bring girls here," she softly mumbled with a cute pout.

Ben burst out laughing. "I don't. It's a stash point. I prefer not to carry bundles of condoms around, unless I know they're needed." He lowered his head to whisper hopefully against her ear. "Why do you ask? Jealous?"

"No!" she answered far too quickly.

Pleased, Ben kissed both her cheeks, before she shyly buried her face in his neck. He'd always been careful to dodge the clingy, possessive type of girl. But the idea that Rachel might be jealous over him, filled Ben with a delirious joy.

"Ok, dinner. Now," he grinned, tickling Rachel out of his way so he could prepare a new salad. "Before I change my mind and drag you upstairs."

*******

In a particularly rundown part of town, Ray sipped his cider and disinterestedly browsed news items on his phone. It had been two days since he'd tortured two men within an inch of their lives. Now, he had to wait long enough for his client to verify the information he obtained was correct. Otherwise, he would have to go back and pay the men a less pleasant visit.

Waiting was dull. Tiring of excessive screen time, Ray locked his phone with a sigh and paid more attention to his surroundings. He stood out a little, being rather tall, broad-shouldered and well-dressed, for the area. But his features were unremarkable.

Though objectively good-looking, there was nothing particularly engaging about his appearance at first glance. It was an aspect that made him so good at his job - he was forgettable. But Ray could be extremely charming, when he chose to be. It was never difficult pick up a woman for the night on short notice, when he was amorous enough to bother.

Cider half-gone, Ray scanned the darkened pub, observing the few patrons scattered about, all looking rather despondently unhopeful about the future. Checking the time on his phone, he pondered what to have for dinner. There were some good Thai places in the area. Perhaps room service in his hotel...

"I need someone who can get shit done. You look like a thug. If you could-?"

Ray perked up as he overheard the conversation behind him. The second voice sounded tired.

"Listen, buddy. I don't know if you're a rookie cop, or what. But I work hard for too little, and I have enough trouble in my life. Get the fuck away from me, before I take offence."

"But, I can pay you-" the first man argued, his voice slurred.

The recipient made an exasperated sound, and Ray smiled, imagining he was rolling his eyes. A chair scraped, and the first man was alone.

"Fuck this shithole. Fuck, fuck, fuck...!" Marcus swore.

Ray turned around and paused reflectively, recognising Marcus as a man out of his usual environment. Out of his depth. Interesting.

"Subtlety can go a long way, when you're procuring the services of a thug," Ray pleasantly advised.

Marcus relaxed as he perceived the speaker was presentable, unlike the rest of scum loitering around the bar. Of a solid build, with chestnut brown hair and rather ordinary features, the man was smartly dressed in a black blazer, with a pale-blue shirt beneath. Marcus wondered how he never noticed his presence. But then again, Marcus was plastered.

"I didn't think it would be this hard," he muttered.

On a whim, Ray fleetingly decided he was bored enough to engage with the amateur. At least long enough to satisfy a slight curiosity. In one smooth movement, Ray left his seat, and took the one opposite Marcus, resting his cider in the table's centre.

"This section is off camera, so you got that part right," Ray said consolingly, his hazel eyes sharply watchful above his glass as Marcus seemed slightly comfited. "I assure you, I am not law enforcement. I am just curious as to why you want a thug."

Marcus glumly shook his head. "I need someone to bash a guy for me."

Ray's face fell. Boring. With a small sigh, he retrieved his glass. But before he could stand, Marcus rattled on.

"My girlfriend's with this new guy. He threw me into a fucking trash can, like right into it," he whined, using his straw to viciously stab the ice at the bottom of his glass.

The edges of Ray's mouth quivered as he fought off a grin. "How unfortunate."

"My manager dumped me," Marcus bitterly vented, looking close to tears. "Now, I have no one to watch her."

"I could do that."

Ray surprised himself with the offer, but his mind whirred with new possibility. He had never stalked a civilian woman. It was different, low pressure, and might be fun for a day. The perfect thing to fill in time while he waited for the all-clear.

"You could?" Marcus sounded naively hopeful. "Can you bash the boyfriend?"

Ray was tempted to wrinkle his nose at the term that seemed very schoolyard to him. It sounded particularly childish coming from Marcus. Not that it mattered. Ray had no intention of accepting a drunk playboy as a client. He was bored, and Marcus looked like he had high standards in women. Watching a hot bimbo could be a fun change.

"No. I've beaten up too many people recently," he answered, with an apologetic smile.

Marcus edged back in his seat. At first the stranger was mildly friendly, but now he was unsettlingly charismatic. There was something about the guy that despite his well-to-do appearance, made Marcus uneasy. And although he emitted a vibe of relaxed humour, he did not come across as ingenuine.

"What's your rate?" Marcus warily asked, and the man deftly plucked a notepad and pen from his black blazer. He scribbled a sum and pushed it across the table. Slightly disoriented, Marcus let his eyes focus on the number and nodded. "How will I pay you?"

Ray dismissively waved a hand. "Cash, if I accept. Give me a day to check it out. I might have to skip town."

Marcus nodded blankly, not sure if he would be disappointed by a rejection. The hairs on the back of his neck were raised, and he didn't know why. "What's your name?"

"Doesn't matter." Ray's teeth flashed white in an attractive grin, before he downed the rest of his cider. "You can trust me. But I'll need her details."

"Right..." Marcus stared at the man with glazed eyes.

If Brian had been there, he would have immediately seized the neck of Marcus' shirt and dragged him out the exit. After decades of dealing with people from all walks of life, Brian would have quickly registered being in the presence of a contract killer.

But Marcus was drunk, and knew nothing about that world. If anything, he was slightly doubtful that such a well-spoken, personable man would be capable of helping with his particular problem. But whatever - he was only paying him to watch Rachel. It was better than nothing. Wasn't it?

Dizzily accepting the pen held out to him, Marcus experienced a strange feeling creep through his chest as he scrawled Rachel's name. It was completely foreign, and he couldn't understand it. It was a gambling sense of entrusting something precious to a person he didn't know.

"This is where she works..." he said thickly, rapidly blinking as the paper disappeared from in front of him.

Glancing up, he started, not realising the man had risen from his seat and was standing right next him. Marcus vaguely observed the man was substantially taller than he'd gauged when sitting opposite.

Clearly it was the booze, but as the slip of paper disappeared into the man's pocket, Marcus had a random vision of a parent dropping their child into the arms of a stranger.

"More than enough detail. Thank you, Marcus."

After a blur of movement, Marcus was alone. Incoherently convincing himself it wasn't a mistake, he was far too drunk to wonder how the man knew his name.