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“Oh, but I am,” I rasp.

I run the Cohiba Behike down her chest, between the valley of her tits. Lowering her dress, I tease her beaded nipple with the end of it.

“You want it?” I ask, letting the question hang between us, heavy with implication.

She looks at me over her shoulder, and I watch the war play out on her face—defiance versus desire, restraint versus desire. She nods once, then finds her voice. “Yes.”

With a low growl, I place the cigar between my teeth. Then I gather the hem of her dress, inch by inch. It slides through my fingers until I’ve exposed just enough; the creamy expanse of her thighs, and the lace of her panties.

“Someone could walk by…” she breathes, but doesn’t finish the thought.

“Then they’ll see exactly who you belongto,” I finish for her, voice low and certain. “They’ll see that this cunt,” I press my palm against her, feeling the heat radiating through the thin barrier, “answers to me.”

She shivers with anticipation as I hook one finger under the edge of her panties, sliding them to the side rather than removing them completely. I take the cigar from my mouth, examining it. Then I press it against her soaked entrance.

Her lips part in a silent gasp, and I cover her mouth with my free hand before the sound can escape. Her breath scorches my palm in quick, shallow bursts.

“You’re going to take this inside you,” I tell her, my voice unnervingly calm even as desire rages through me. “And you’re going to stay perfectly quiet while I fuck you with it. Do you understand?”

She nods against my hand and lets her head fall back against me. I can feel her trying to control her breathing, trying to maintain composure even as her body betrays her with slick desire.

The cigar slides in easier than I expected, her cunt already soaked and yielding. I watch her face contort with the strange new sensation—the firmness, the slight resistance as her body accommodates the foreign object. She’s tight around it, fighting the intrusion at first, then gradually accepting each inch as I work it deeper.

“That’s it,” I murmur against her ear, close enough that my lips brush the delicate shell. “Taking it so well for me. Such a perfect little toy.”

Her eyelids flutter at the praise, and I feel a tremor run through her body. I push the cigar in to the halfway point, then pull it back slowly, watching her face for every micro expression of pleasure. When I push it back in, I twist it slightly, and her knees nearly buckle.

“You like that? Being filled like this where anyone could see?” I release her mouth briefly to let her answer, my thumb tracing over her lower lip.

“Yes,” she whispers, the word barely audible. “P-please, don’t stop.”

Moving my hand to cover her mouth again, I press harder this time. “I won’t stop until you come all over this cigar,” I rasp, fucking her slowly with the rolled tobacco, watching as her juices make it glisten in the dim light.

“Yes,” she moans from behind my hand.

“I want you to remember this every time you see a fucking ashtray. Every time you smell smoke.”

Her eyes roll back slightly, and I can feel her rolling her hips, trying to press against my hand, seeking more friction, more pressure. I give her neither, maintaining the torturously slow pace. She pants against my hand now; the rhythm frayed and erratic. There’s the vibration of a moan my toy’s desperately trying to suppress.

“Please… Enzo,” she begs.

The sound of my name on her lips makes a growl build in my throat. “Say it again,” I demand.

“Enzo,” she gasps. “Please fuck me harder. Deeper.”

Thesounds of the party grow louder—someone’s giving a toast, glasses clinking in celebration. The contrast between the civility just beyond the corridor and the depravity in our shadowed corner makes my cock throb painfully against my tailored pants.

I press myself against her thigh, letting her feel what she does to me, but never losing my focus on the cigar sliding in and out of her cunt.

“Look at you,” I whisper, letting my voice drop an octave. “Taking it so deep. Are you pretending it’s my dick, Toy?”

Her muscles tense, and I feel her clench around the cigar. The fear of discovery, the risk of being seen—it’s all part of what’s driving her to the edge. I exploit it mercilessly.

“Maybe I should let them see,” I continue, picking up the pace slightly. “Bend you over that bar out there and let them all watch while I fuck you.”

Her eyes widen, pupils blown with lust. She’s close—I can feel it in the way her body tenses, in the wetness coating my fingers as I work the cigar in and out of her. I press it deeper, angling it to hit that spot inside her that makes her see stars.

“Enzo!”