Chapter Text
Music.
First beat; a sway of hips. Another one; she lifts her arms above her head.
Lights.
They’re on her back, licking up the reds and blacks of her silhouette, making the audience focus on her and only her. This is her time, her show — she’s only got this one chance to show what she’s made of.
Pull.
A veil of red falls over her back as her hair comes undone. The music builds up, she takes a deep breath, letting it all come together until—
Turn.
The actress spins around on her heels and finally reveals herself to the hungry eyes prying on her. She basks in it like a phoenix risen from the ashes, green eyes vying with the rhinestones on her chest, provoking and luring people in like insects. Her hips sway to the rhythm, fingertips running along the decorations of her crimson vintage corset, its tight fit highlighting her slim waist. Her long legs are covered by shining black thigh high boots and fishnets, half of her buttocks peeking out of the micro-length leather shorts that only exist for the purpose of teasing the observer.
Her fingertips creep between her thighs and she pushes her legs open, squatting down on her heels while rotating her head around in a slow circle. Every one of her moves is carefully calculated, every expression and gesture well practiced and played out with utmost pride and confidence. This is her starring role; Juliet.
Juliet is a tragic character, you see. Abandoned by God and stuck in her eternal limbo of never finding true love, she puts herself on display as a final act of desperacy; offering her body in front of a sea of people just so that someone, anyone, could touch her and give her the one thing she needs most. Just thinking of it makes the actress’ brows turn up in sorrow, she understands her better than anyone.
She falls on her knees and leans her upper body weight back on her hands while thrusting her hips forward, eyes heavy and lips just barely parted. Her chest is rising and falling in exaggerated movements, demonstrating the desperation and torment Juliet is being put through.
In fact, she is Juliet on this stage. This body, every single strand of hair on her head, the sultry clothing and the heart beating inside her chest — they're all Juliet's. That's what it means to be an actress. It's all about becoming something, not already being it. It gives the woman the bliss of never having to settle for what she is or is not, she can always become something different.
Even when she’s stuck in a body that was never meant to be hers.
She spins around and falls on her back on the stage. While her legs rise in the air, her back arches and she pulls open the strings of her corset, allowing her to gasp for air. The feeling of her lungs finally expanding makes her rip open the garment completely and get back on her knees, back against the audience, before dramatically dropping it behind her on the floor.
She gets back on her feet, wobbling a bit, but then turns towards the audience once more and continues the sensual swaying of hips. Her torso is bare, lean and pale and her skin as smooth as silk — but her chest is that of a man’s, flat and broader now that the corset’s illusion has worn off.
The actress behind Juliet was Grell. Grell is, well— a man. Or, more accurately, stuck in a body of one: the soul inside had always been a woman’s and she had known it all her life. All that potential and passion, ideas and drive for success, only to be crushed by her unavoidable Achilles’ heel that smothered her existence like God’s boot.
But in this room, on this stage and for all the people watching, none of that matters. Here, she’s more of a sexual concept than even human; but better a concept she could act out than being a man.
So, she smiles and keeps on dancing; telling a wordless story to an audience that won’t ever understand any of it.
”Great job out there, miss!”
Grell knew the dopamine of performing had completely worn off the moment she heard her coworker’s voice drill into her skull when she entered the dressing room. It quite felt like the quickest hangover a person could get, making her want nothing more but to get home and in her bed as soon as possible.
”Thanks, Ron,” she sighed and walked past the blond boy straight to her locker, trying not to come off as a total bitch, ”You weren’t performing today, were you?”
”Nope,” Ron — short for Ronald — chuckled and checked his appearance in the mirror, ”I’m in general escorts tonight, plus a few VIPs later. Kinda wish I had the time to perform, too, but I gotta put money first. Rent’s not gonna pay itself this month, either.”
Oh yeah, Grell could probably use the VIP money herself — but she wasn’t in the mood to deal with clients today, so she was heading straight back home, that was for sure. That required a specific sort of energy she seemed to lack most days nowadays, but Ronald was apparently built different and never lacked any.
”Get your coin, then,” she laughed while digging through her purse, ”The ladies, especially older ones, love you.”
”I guess,” he said with a long sigh, ”I just feel like it’s always the same few clients that come for me, and I’m not too fond of them to be honest. It makes me feel like I’m flirting with someone’s grandma.”
Grell snorted and Ronald immediately started complaining about how it was an actual issue and that he’d rather enjoy his youth and date actually interesting people instead of being stuck at the club with his ’ladies’. Well, that was likely the case for everyone; not many people would work such job if they had other choices.
This specific club wasn’t even that bad, it was quite underground and mostly visited by people who actually had money instead of some trashy strip clubs down the road where just about everyone could come and go as they pleased. Here, they had actual security and people that cared for their performers, and they got paid quite a bit more than other similar clubs. It was also inclusive for people with different ’preferences’; men who liked men and women who liked women, and men who liked women like Grell or just the idea of guys dressed as girls and vice versa. It was a well kept secret, that’s why people usually had basic manners — they didn’t want word to spread about what they did behind closed walls during the night.
Grell didn’t know why Ronald worked here, and neither did he about her reasonings. It was an unspoken rule, too, to never ask for it was considered a personal matter everyone had the right to keep to themselves. People come and went, some without a word, and while one could theorise and wonder, no one ever sought the answers further. The performers and other employees held respect for one another and thus never stuck their noses on any business aside work.
Just as Ronald was about to recite his usual story about his first VIP being his old kindergarten teacher, there was a knock on the door.
”Excuse me,” a female voice said and soon cracked the door open, ”There’s a Red Room inquiry for ’Juliet’, do I confirm with the client?”
”Huh? Right now?”
Grell furrowed a brow and walked to the door to meet the secretary standing in the hallway. She was not in the mood for clients, but a Red Room reservation was worth more than two evenings of VIPs at the very least, and wasn’t something to just decline right away.
”Yes, the client is currently waiting for confirmation. One male, no extra services, and he wanted to book for an hour with just you alone.”
”Yeah sure, tell him I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Grell told the woman without really even considering it further, and then closed the door again once she had left. Honestly, whatever; Red Room paid well and it was just one guy for an hour, it wouldn’t hurt.
”Lucky you,” Ronald sighed and got up from his chair, ”Maybe I should’ve been performing too if it got me Red Room reservations like that.”
”It’s just my charm and talent,” Grell snickered, somewhat proud of herself, ”Now shoo, go, I have to clean up before I go.”
She was soon left alone, and quickly began to touch up her makeup and hair as well as make sure she was clean and ready for a client.
The difference between VIPs and the Red Room was basically that with VIPs, you got a small private booth in which clients could receive private dances and service, including small sexual ones like a handjob, whereas the Red Room there were no restrictions, very little rules, and basically performers provided anything the client wanted, from roleplaying to group sex. It was quite pricey compared to a VIP booth, but still pretty popular among certain performers and clients. Mostly people just paid for it to have intercourse with the performers, but those walls had definitely seen all and every thing imaginable to man — the only rules forbade overly excessive damage (heavy bleeding, broken bones) done to or by either party and filming any activities within the room. This specific request, however, sounded very easy and typical quick fuck that if done well, could grant her a good tip on top of the Red Room payment.
Grell applied a fresh coat of red on her lips and a small spray of perfume on her neck before heading towards the other side of the building where the Red Room was located. The room itself was a pretty spacious one, with a big sofa across two walls and a small platform in the middle, pole and all for dancing. In one corner, there was a mini bar and a good selection of drinks that were included with the service, a separate bathroom, and even a hidden corner where there was a king sized bed and all sorts of toys and accessories for a variety of activities. For safety, there were also two surveillance cameras in case there was any foul play, though they only showed real time footage with no sound. There was someone on guard for every time the room was used, making sure the performers stayed safe, even when it was really rare for anything serious to ever occur.
Before entering, she quickly informed the secretary of her arrival, and then slipped into a hidden hallway from a side door to make her entrance from the designated back door. One more quick combing through her hair with her fingers and a deep inhale, and she opened the door.
Instantly, she spotted a dark figure of a man sitting on the sofa, facing away from her. His posture was straight, one leg crossed over the other and hands crossed over his knee. It seemed like he had been sitting there for the ten minutes she took getting ready, judging by the fact his coat was already hanging from the hanger on the wall and he seemed quite deep in his thoughts. Grell cleared her throat and then took a few steps towards him, making her heels speak for her before she opened her mouth.
”Well hello there, handsome.”
Her voice made the man turn his face her way. She was met with his covered eyes, hidden under a mask resembling a raven’s face, beak and all — reaching down the bridge of his nose. The lower half of his face was visible, as were his lips that soon turned upwards upon seeing her.
”Good evening, my lady. What a pleasure to have you accompany me tonight, I was truly amazed by your performance from earlier.”
His voice was posh and proper, words precisely articulated and paced to the point it was quite amusing. Grell couldn’t help but grin herself at the contrast compared to the way clients usually spoke to her, either drunkenly slurring their words or barely bothering to speak at all.
She made her way in front of the man and took a proper look of what she had signed herself up for tonight. He was wearing a dark suit, one of the more expensive kinds; which could either mean he had money to spend, or, simply superficial and perhaps boastful in nature. His hair was dark and mostly sleeked back, giving an overall clean and stylish look. From what Grell could see, his face wasn’t bad either; well balanced features and a great jawline, and she could tell he was tall and lean with broad shoulders and long legs. There was no visible odour, no signs of overconsumption of alcohol or drugs — quite the ideal individual for this sort of business.
Grell tilted her head slightly on the side, keeping up the somewhat established eye contact, while her smile widened into a seductive, pleased smirk.
”The pleasure’s most certainly mine,” she giggled and brushed some of her hair behind her ear to expose more skin, ”How can I help you tonight, darling?”
The man seemed to think about his answer for a brief second, but he was still smiling back at her which was always a good sign. He exhaled and shifted his position on the sofa, then leaned back, mirroring Grell’s head tilt before speaking.
”Do you happen to have any wine here? I could use a glass for starters while we get to know each other, if you don’t mind.”
”Of course we do. In fact—,” she said with a turn on her heels, taking a few steps towards the mini bar while still looking at him from over her shoulder, ”—I happen know just the brand to take the edge off and help you relax.”
Grell winked and then made her way to the drink supplements, emphasising the sway of her hips purposefully. Her hands found the familiar bottle of red — which was not only fitting for the room, but her own image as well — wine and a bottle opener without even looking through the options. A few swift movements of her fingers and wrist, and the cork was popped off the bottle with a satisfying sound.
Before returning to her client, she decided to put on some background music. Something soft and sultry, rich and provocative; something she could move her hips to efficiently enough to get a good tip. Grell’s shuffling fingertips landed on Nina Simone’s ’I Put a Spell On You’ amongst the CD’s, and soon the title track filled the room with sensual jazz. It made her enter her role on the spot, really drawing the focus on herself as she made her way back to her one man audience.
Quite boldly, Grell raised her knees on the sides of the man’s lap one by one and then slowly sat down, forcing him to spread his legs so that her bottom pressed against his crotch. Right in his face, she lifted the bottle’s neck on a glass she had brought with her and carefully poured the wine in, a little smack of lips added in. She could feel his gaze glued on her, just as she had planned it.
”Oh, do pardon me,” she chuckled and put the bottle down on the floor before inching even closer to him, ”I invaded your personal space just like that without even asking your name, mister.”
He chuckled, seemingly unbothered by her proximity and even keeping his hands on his sides like a gentleman, ”Perhaps for tonight, you can just call me your Romeo.”
Wow, how original.
”But of course,” Grell chimed instead, like it was the first time she had ever heard the cheesy line or any of its dozen variants, ”My beloved Romeo, I surely hope I won’t have to bid you a thousand goodnights just yet.”
Before the man had a chance to reply, she got up on her knees and cupped his face with her free hand as the other swirled around the glass between her fingertips. She let her breath tickle his skin as she leaned closer, fluttering her eyelashes above his hidden gaze.
”What a shame I can’t fully see your handsome features. But that might just be a metaphor of what makes our love so tragic, dear Romeo. So close but worlds apart; completely unobtainable yet oh so longed for.”
Her voice became quiet, a warm whisper; her body pressed against his torso, thumb slowly parting the man’s lips. The glass of wine was brought to her mouth and she slowly took a sip, then leaned over to press her lips onto his, feeding the red liquid straight to him. Some spilled from between the seams of their lips, dripping down the man’s chin and falling down on his white collar, likely leaving permanent evidence of their meeting. Grell felt him swallow first, then kiss her back; slowly intertwining the taste of spit with one of fruit and musk.
She rewarded him with a demure, vibrating moan and closed her eyes before wrapping her arms around his neck. For someone with such a posh mouth, the man really knew how to kiss. What a naughty boy he must’ve been underneath that calm and collected demeanour — just how she liked her men.
Grell pulled back and took another sip from the glass, this time swallowing it, followed by a playful lick of lips.
”Perhaps we know each other well enough now, don’t you think?”
The man raised his hand to wipe the corners of his lips, wearing an expression similar to a smug smirk that made Grell somewhat infuriated and aroused at the same time. He took the glass from her hand and downed the remaining liquid in one go, then leaned to put it down on the floor next to the bottle.
”You are quite as intriguing up close as you are on the stage, Miss Juliet,” he whispered in her ear, his nose pressed against the side of her face. Grell instinctively tilted her head away to give him better access, making the man inhale the scent of her perfume with a pleased sigh. The mask he was wearing felt cold in comparison to his breath and its beak was scraping against her skin, giving her goosebumps all over her body.
”Believe me, dear, I haven’t shown you the half of it yet.”
The man’s mouth was on her neck, tongue sliding across her skin, making Grell moan at the warm sensation. She rocked her hips against his, slowly, focusing on the friction her shorts and fishnets created against his trousers.
Red fingernails tangled into the man’s black hair and pulled him closer, urging him to devour her entirely like a hungry beast. She could see it in her mind: a perfectly tragic tale of lovers who were only given one night and then they’d never ever see each other again. The desperation and hunger, the urge to feel everything so deeply and wholly, the urgency of running out of time — yes! Fantastic! This was her destined starring role, a spectacle of the century; Juliet’s first and last night with the love of her life, right there in her arms but completely and utterly out of reach.
Grell yanked the man’s head back and kissed him feverishly. Her hands made their way on her bust to unbuckle her corset, and soon it fell off her body on the floor behind her. She fumbled around for the man’s hands and once she found them, she brought them on her bare waist and held them there until he was gripping onto her on his own. It was then she also realised he was grinding back against her, making her heave into his mouth to drive him further off the edge.
”Ah, darling,” Grell purred into the air between kisses, ”I can’t wait for you to fuck me, you’ll do me so good.”
”What a vulgar choice of words,” he chuckled back, perhaps amused by the sudden change in her romanticised speech, ”Haven’t you got a better use for that beautiful mouth of yours than spouting such dirty things?”
Grell could surely name a few things at least, yet she didn’t get to open her mouth before the man brought his clothed hand on his mouth and peeled the white glove off with his teeth, like he had been the one providing a show for her instead. His fingers were long and slender, nails painted black — which was oddly out of whatever character Grell had built for him in her head based on his demeanour and looks — and soon, they were on her face, his thumb rubbing her lower lip as he once again smirked at her, as if waiting to be proven something.
Yes, he was playing his part just on spot.
Grell wrapped her fingers around his wrist and leaned into his touch before parting her lips and greeting the man’s thumb with her tongue. She sucked it, inviting it deeper in, proving she had plenty of room in her mouth for whatever he wished to put there. The man sighed contentedly in return and leaned back on the sofa. His thumb started circling around, smudging saliva all over Grell’s red lips.
It was a lewd sight; scandalous, even — yet she only made it worse by purposefully letting drool drip down her chin and rocked her hips into his, ignoring the bulge in her own shorts by focusing on the shape of the man’s erection instead. He let out a few soft grunts of approval before popping his thumb out and instead gave his index and middle finger for her to play with. She took them in nicely, eyes half-lidded and hazed with lust, leaning forward as she only sucked them in deeper. The man chuckled at the sight and started moving the digits, feeling Grell’s mouth inside out.
”My my, quite remarkable.”
Something in the tone of his voice made Grell visibly shiver, followed by him pulling his fingers out slowly and then dragging them down her jawline and neck. His moist touch landed on her chest and started circling her nipple, making it harden and easier for him to take between his fingertips. Grell let her eyes close and tightened her grip around his forearm. Her nails dug into to creases of his sleeve, the man’s movements ever so light and teasing, his other hand running along her bare side. He was definitely dragging this on, taking his sweet time instead of just fucking her and then sneaking out the nearest door, but Grell couldn’t really say she had any problems with it.
”I think I have something even better in store for you,” she finally replied after a while and lowered her hands on the buckle of his belt, ”So how about you just lean back and let me take care of you?”
The man took off his other glove and tossed it aside before brushing away some stray hairs from her face, ”That’d be very kind of you, my lady.”
Grell was kissed again, making it harder to focus on her task of freeing him of his pants, but she managed nevertheless thanks to pure muscle memory. Behind the zipper fly and a pair of boxers, her hands finally met with his member and pulled it out to give it a few lengthy strokes. After a couple more kisses, she got up on her knees and pushed him against the backrest of the sofa, then got down on the floor between his legs. She arched her back and leaned in, pushing out her butt and settling her elbows on the man’s thighs, licking her lips as she gazed at him under her long lashes.
”Mhm, what do we have here?” Grell cooed before sticking out the tip of her tongue to let drool fall on the erection in her hand, smudging it over the tip in slow motions, ”Aren’t I one lucky girl tonight to have such a treat served right in front of me.”
Her scalp was caressed by the man’s hand before it slid down over her cheek. His touch had grown cool once more and felt like ice against her slightly flushed face, making her bite her lip in anticipation. The calmness radiating from him made Grell want to overdo herself — go absolutely crazy on him until he was a sweaty, panting mess, unable to utter a single syllable.
The man lifted up her chin and pulled a shiny wrapper out of his pocket before placing it between her teeth, ”Please, do help yourself then.”
Grell smiled and swiftly ripped the open the condom with her teeth. She placed it on the tip of his cock and wrapped her lips around the rubber, then slid it over the man’s length with a quiet moan that vibrated into his hard flesh. In no time she was already bobbing her head and sucking, the chain of her glasses moving along to the rhythm and brushing her neck and face. Wet, lewd sounds, moans, gags and muffled whines filled the space around them, accompanying the saxophone and strings on the background, creating a sinful composition that echoed from the dark walls back into both of their ears.
A hand gripped her red hair, making her drag her teeth over the rubber and then pull off to tug his pants further down to suck and fondle his balls. His length brushed against her glasses; making them sit crooked on the bridge of her nose, almost falling off, but she was too busy to care. Her hand kept pumping his cock and his in turn gripped her tighter, making her scalp sting and encouraging even more moans vibrate from her throat. Then, she took a long, sharp inhale before taking all of him back in her mouth and buried her nose into his pelvic bone, gagging as the curved tip hit the back of his throat and made drool foam out of the corners of her lips. Her glasses finally gave out and slipped off, which made her unclip the chain and toss them aside, out of her way. It gave the man a better view for her watering, bright green eyes that were glimmering with lust.
”Good, very good,” he praised her, rubbing her hollowed cheek. His voice was getting breathier, but it still didn’t feel like enough for Grell.
She pulled off with a deep inhale, letting strings of spit between her mouth and his cock slowly extend and then snap, before wiping her grinning mouth with the back of her palm. Her lipstick was almost gone, now colouring the pale rubber and her hand, some traces of it evident on the man’s mouth.
Without a word, she then proceeded to stand up and lift her leg up next to the man’s head on the backrest turned around, leaning away from the man with her hands on her hips, slowly swaying them from side to side with her rear almost in the man’s face. She zipped down both of her long boots at once, and somehow managed to take them off way more elegantly than one usually did, abandoning them on the floor next to everything else that had been tossed there. Her fingertips slipped under the tight leather and nylon, teasingly playing with the waistband at first, and finally pushed them out of the way of the main view — her ass, now covered with nothing but a bright red string of a lace thong and the pattern of her fishnets still pressed against her buttocks.
Grell’s fingers traced the outline of her silhouette, from her thighs to her hips and then waist and ribs, as she straightened her back and turned back to the man awaiting her.
”My darling Romeo,” she called, her voice slightly hoarse from abusing her throat, ”I’m yours, only yours for tonight. You can bend and break me, tie me up and abuse me — anything you want I will give to you. My body, my heart, my soul; each and every thing.”
It was theatrical, yes, and way over the top for what usually went down with clients, but it wasn’t often Grell got to engage in such theatrics so that’s exactly what she did. She climbed back on the man’s lap and brought his cock on her entrance, smearing the spit and leftover lubricate against it before pushing the tip inside. No one ever bothered with actual lube in this room, but she was well aware of that fact and had thus somewhat prepped herself in those ten minutes she took in the bathroom beforehand. It didn’t even sting that much as she was no stranger to penetration, yet she whimpered in his ear just for the effect — as one usually did when playing into the male fantasy.
”I’d rather not destroy something as enchanting as you,” the man replied while leaning over her ear, fingers inching under the red lace pressed against both sides of her hips, ”So perhaps, we can simply make love for this one night we’ve been given, what do you think?”
”God,” she moaned, only partially exaggerating while slowly enveloping his full length, ”Please, anything, I just need you to touch me.”
Grell had somehow managed to ignore the flesh between her legs, hard and pressed against the scrap of red fabric, begging to get out, but the moment the man brought his hand over it she was hit by a sudden wave of nausea accompanied with an almost startled gasp. The disgust blent into pleasure as his fingertips pulled her length out and rubbed against the tip, making her almost livid yet also buck her hips against his touch.
Whatever, it didn’t matter — one day she’d have enough money to chop it all off like a cancerous tumour.
The man breathed hotly against her neck, placing kisses here and there, sometimes even grazing his teeth against her pulse point. Grell’s eyes closed and she focused on the rhythm, transferring it onto her rocking hips and sighs.
Her hands gripped the sides of his head which prompted the man to lean closer and bury his covered face in her chest, tongue soon twirling around the sensitive area. She cried out in delight, genuine this time, and propped herself on her feet to add more speed and force into her movements. The sounds of their hips colliding grew faster and louder, and so did Grell’s moans. His teeth soon tugged her nipple, dark nails pressed into her skin, cock just almost brushing against her sweet spot.
The self-established gentleman was biting into her skin, making Grell twitch and tremble in pleasure. She felt his teeth leave marks all over her chest, then lick and kiss his way up to the nook of her shoulder. A swipe of hand pushed her hair off the way and let his teeth sink into her neck, feral and ruthless like a vampire. Maybe he was one, and she had naively fallen straight into his trap; and now he would suck her dry and leave her behind like an empty bottle of wine.
Remembering the still quite full bottle almost at their feet, Grell turned her upper body and reached for it, just barely managing to grab it and then brought it on her lips to take a sip.
”Drink up, my love,” she mewled and tilted up the man’s chin, waiting for him to part his lips before pouring the wine down his throat. Half of it missed, splattering around his face and down her chest, on the sofa, on his suit, making a horrible, sticky mess of both of them. Neither seemed to care, though, too far gone in their hedonistic ritual.
Grell stuck her tongue under the stream and started lapping it up, making the wine splatter around even more. She looked like she had just gone through a murderous streak and was covered in the blood of her victims, a manic glow of ecstasy shining through her eyes, grinning widely and sweat running down her temples. When the streak ran dry, the man, equally covered in red, took the emptied bottle and tossed it away, and then focused on licking and sucking the remains directly from Grell’s skin while she whined and giggled at the sensation.
”My lady, fair as the burning sun,” a groan left his upturned lips, ”So wickedly divine you are.”
The words flowed into Grell’s core, melting into honey, making her feel lightheaded and almost unreal. She kissed him again and fell back on her knees, desperately trying to press closer and keep up her pace with him thrusting right back into her. She was getting closer, and hopefully was he, although she couldn’t really tell.
”Please,” she begged, voice meek and wavering, ”Please, darling, I’m so close.”
The man acted and Grell’s back was soon pressed against the leather furnishing. The man laid on top of her, briefly pulling away to pull off her thong and then brought his hand on his mouth to wet his palm. Then, his touch creeped back between her legs, although only lightly pressing against her flesh this time; merely providing somewhere for Grell to grind herself on. She whimpered and moved her hips, letting him control the situation in turn and enjoy seeing her in her most vulnerable state. Although mostly part of her act, the very real humiliation of it all aroused her further, making her crave her climax more and more.
The man pushed back inside her and leaned over while adding pressure on her arousal, covering her bare body with his, before whispering, ”Show it to me, come.”
His other hand pet her cheek and his lips returned on hers, making Grell close her eyes and throw back her head. She let go and thrusted against the man’s wet palm, making his fingers close around her — but she didn’t care, only wailed in delight and pulled him closer while her muscles tensed around his cock.
The room started spinning around them, the pressure in the pit of her stomach growing and stretching the string of her climax. She moaned his makeshift name into his mouth and tugged him closer from his hair, wanting nothing more but absorb into him fully: to feel their bodies and minds become one like real lovers’, not ones bound by monetary arrangements and these crimson walls.
Then, he pushed further against that bundle of nerves where her orgasm had been building on and snapped the thread in half, making her come into his palm with a broken cry of pleasure. He came soon after, first reaching somewhere deep in her and then stopping there, making Grell feel the pulsating sensation inside her grow and his muscles relax after.
They stayed there, looking into each other’s eyes through the dark mesh of the mask covering his. It felt like time had stopped somewhere along the kisses and touches they’d shared, and now it was time to let the clock tick again once more and return to normal.
The man smiled and suddenly licked Grell’s excess come from his fingertips before speaking, ”Thank you for this dance. It was delightful.”
She in turn stared at him with a mix of bafflement and arousal before flashing him her signature smile once more.
”Thank you, darling. I won’t forget this night we shared.”
After smiling back at her, the man pulled away and stood up before starting to tidy up his blown up appearance; or rather, what little could still be salvaged of it. Grell pulled her knees towards herself, not bothering to dress up before showering and properly cleaning herself. She eyed the back of his head, wondering who it really was that had actually given her a pretty good time for once — and paid her for it, on top of that.
When he headed for the door, Grell stood up and started gathering her belongings, but instead of leaving the man suddenly turned around and walked back to her while digging something from his inner breast pocket.
”I almost forgot, here’s a little something for your time,” he said politely and handed her a white envelope and a piece of paper reminiscent of a business card, ”Additionally, if you’d like to discuss future business with me, here’s a number from which you can reach me. It’s not every day that I come across as charming and enigmatic individuals as yourself, you see, so I would more than gladly meet with you again.”
Then, he leaned to kiss her cheek, and this time made it to the door before turning his head towards her once more.
”Good night, Miss Juliet. Perhaps we shall meet again.”
The door opened, and then, he was gone. Grell was left alone, confused and slightly amused by this strange man that had just come and gone just like that. She looked down at her hands, eyeing the numbers on the piece of paper before sliding it behind the envelope and opening it.
Inside was a stack of hundred dollar bills, way more than whatever it cost to rent the Red Room in the first place. It was more than Grell made in a month, maybe even two. Her jaw dropped open and she just stared at the money, before her silence turned into quiet, breathy laughter.
”Oh, my Romeo, what a sweet devil you are.”