Livi tied the black-and-gold mask behind her head and took one last look in the mirror. The gown was painted onto her curves, her strappy Jimmy Choos laced tight, her lips a wicked shade of red. She looked like every rich man’s fantasy.

And she hated herself for giving Brad exactly what he wanted.

She’d put up with his degrading shit for years, let him bankroll her med school debt, let him chip away at her confidence one smug remark at a time. She’d be done school in 6 months and could finally be free of his abrasive hold. And the kicker? He didn’t even have the audacity to fuck her properly. He was the kind of man who blew his load in five minutes, collapsed in a sweaty heap, and mistook her polite moans for orgasms.

Brad was hosting his annual masquerade ball, and the smug bastard was in his element. Strutting through the crowd, parading her around like she was his prize show pony. When one of his buddies whistled, Brad smirked, slapped the guy’s palm, and said loud enough for the room to hear, “Yeah, I know. She’s a price of work, right?” like she wasn’t standing right there.

Her blood boiled so hot she thought her mask might crack.

By the time they hit the bar, she ripped her wrist from his grip. “I’m getting a drink.”

Brad leaned close, his champagne breath sour on her cheek. “Make it a double, babe. You’re prettier when you’re quiet.” He smirked, cupped her ass hard enough for his friends to cheer, then swaggered off like he’d just won something.

Her nails dug crescents into her palm. She wanted to torch the whole damn party. Walk out, leave him standing in the ashes. But she didn’t. Not yet.

She drained her drink in one swallow, signaled for another, fury thrumming through her veins. And that’s when a low, steady voice slid in beside her.

“Careful. Scowls that sharp might cut someone.”

Livi didn’t even look at him. “Then maybe you should move before you bleed all over my shoes.”

The man let out a low laugh, unbothered. “Jimmy Choos, right? Would be a shame to ruin those.”

Her head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing behind the mask. “What are you, a fashion critic now? Because if you’re here to tell me to smile, I swear—”

He lifted his hands in mock surrender, that faint smirk never leaving his face. “Relax. I just meant they deserve better company than the asshole you walked in with.”

Her lips parted, a retort ready, but it stalled. No one talked about Brad like that — not to her face. Not here.

“You don’t even know me,” she said finally, forcing the edge back into her voice.

He leaned in just enough for her to catch a trace of something warm and clean on his skin — cedar, leather, heat. “Don’t need to. I can tell.”

“Tell what?” she challenged, lifting her glass.

“That you’re wound so tight, you’d shatter if someone touched you the right way.” His voice dropped, smooth and deliberate. “Bet it’s been a while since anyone did.”

Her throat went dry. She swallowed hard, pretending the burn was from her drink, not the way his words slid under her skin.

“You’re cocky,” she shot back.

“Confident,” he corrected with a slow smile. “And I know when a woman’s starving.” His gaze flicked over her mouth, then back up. “You’ve been starving, haven’t you?”

Livi’s pulse jumped. Her first instinct was to tell him to fuck off. Her second was to grab him by the tie and drag him somewhere dark.

She set her glass down harder than she meant to, the clink sharp against the counter. “You think you can just walk up to me, say some filthy line, and I’ll melt?”

He tilted his head, eyes locked on hers. “No. I think you’ll make me work for it. But I also think you’re tired of pretending that prick out there is enough for you.”

Her breath hitched before she could stop it. He noticed. Of course he noticed.

When his hand brushed her thigh — casual, like he was just shifting closer on the stool — her skin lit up like a live wire. She should have shoved him off. Instead, she leaned in just enough to let her words hit his ear.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

His lips curved, slow and dangerous. “Then show me.”

The air between them snapped tight. Without thinking, she caught his wrist and slid off the stool, tugging him toward the hall. He came willingly, close at her back, his hand already claiming her hip as they slipped past the crowd.

The lock clicked, echoing in the marble-tiled bathroom. Livi shoved him back against the wall, lips crashing into his. Her fingers tangled in his collar, tugging him down to her. She kissed like she fought — hard, hungry, unafraid to take what she wanted.

His hands stayed at his sides, letting her taste, letting her grind against him, letting her think she was in control. Her tongue slid past his lips, her knee brushing up his thigh. She pulled back, panting, mask slipping crooked over one eye.

“You gonna just stand there,” she taunted, “or are you gonna fuck me?”

That’s when he moved.

One hand caught her jaw, tilting her head up, while the other clamped tight around her hip, spinning her so fast her back hit the counter. His mouth grazed her ear, his voice a rough whisper.

“Careful, princess. You don’t get to run the show in here.”

Her lips parted, a sharp reply ready, but all that came out was a shaky laugh. “And what if I like running the show?”

His mouth brushed her ear, his voice low enough to rattle down her spine. “Then you’re in for a disappointment.”

Heat pooled low in her stomach, her body betraying her faster than her mind could catch up. When his fingers slid up her thigh, deliberate and unhurried, she didn’t stop him. Couldn’t.

“Don’t tease,” she whispered, softer now, almost pleading.

He smiled against her throat, lips brushing her skin. “That’s not a tease.” His hand drifted higher, knuckles brushing the damp lace stretched tight over her pussy. “This—” he pressed harder, dragging the fabric against her swollen clit in slow, grinding circles, “—this is a tease.”

Her hips bucked forward before she even realized it, chasing more pressure, more friction. He let out a low, filthy laugh. “That’s better. I knew you’d fuck yourself on my hand if I let you.”

She was wet—soaking, messy wet—and he groaned when he felt the slickness coat his fingertips. “Christ, you’re dripping already. My little cum slut.”

He circled her clit with maddening slowness, rubbing just enough to make her thighs shake. Her breath broke into little moans, sharp and desperate, her nails clawing at the counter. He slid one thick finger inside her, then another, stretching her open, curling them deep until she cried out.

“Yeah, right there, huh? Feel that?” His fingers pumped harder, fucking her until she was gasping, grinding down onto his hand. “You’re squeezing me so tight, soaking my fingers—don’t you dare stop.”

She was close—so close—her hips jerking, her voice breaking into needy whimpers, the wet sounds of his fingers plunging into her filling the air. Her whole body locked up, ready to snap—

And he pulled out. Just stopped.

She let out a strangled, furious scream, her thighs clamping around nothing. “No—no, fuck, you bastard—”

He shoved his dripping fingers against her lips, smearing her wetness across her mouth. “Open.”

Her lips parted, and he slid them inside, pushing down onto her tongue until she gagged. “There you go. Lick it clean, taste how desperate you are. That’s your pussy, dripping down my hand, and you still don’t get to cum.”

Her moan vibrated around his fingers as she sucked them, drool mixing with her own slick, her eyes glassy.

“That’s my dirty girl,” he growled, dragging his fingers free to smear her spit across her cheek.

Two fingers slipped inside her before she could catch her breath. Slow at first, just enough to stretch her, then curling upward until her body jolted against the counter.

She gasped, her hands flying back to steady herself on the marble. “Oh—”

“Yeah,” he snarled, grinding his thumb against her clit as his fingers curled hard inside her. “Hear that? That messy little pussy sucking on my fingers, begging to get wrecked. Right there—your dirty little sweet spot.  Brad probably doesn’t even know where it is. All it takes is me rubbing it, and you’re already about to cream all over my hand.”

Her knees buckled, thighs quivering. He pinned her with one hand at her hip, fucking his fingers deeper, harder, curling until her head fell back.

“Say it,” he demanded, his thumb circling her clit now, doubling the pressure. “Say you’re gonna cum for me.”

She shook her head, a broken moan tumbling out instead. Her body arched into him, mask slipping lower with every thrust.

“Say it,” he growled, biting her earlobe just hard enough to make her cry out.

“I—fuck—yes, I’m gonna—”

Her words broke into a ragged scream as the climax tore through her, clenching so hard around his fingers her whole body shook. He didn’t let up, grinding his palm against her clit, fucking her through every shudder until she sagged against the counter, trembling and ruined.

For a moment she thought it was over. That he’d be satisfied with wringing her out once and let her catch her breath.

Then he grabbed her chin and crushed his mouth against hers. The kiss was deep, messy, his tongue sliding against hers until she tasted herself on his lips. She whimpered into it, too spent to fight, too desperate not to respond.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, his voice low and rough.

“You think we’re done?” His fingers still lingered inside her, curling just enough to make her gasp again. “I’m not even close to done with you.”

Before she could catch her breath, he shoved her forward, bending her over the counter. Cold marble kissed her cheek as he yanked her dress higher around her waist. She moaned in protest, weak and trembling, but her body arched back for him anyway.

The slap of his belt hitting the floor echoed, and her pussy clenched so hard it hurt. A heartbeat later, the thick weight of his cock pressed against her, the swollen head grinding through her drenched slit, spreading her lips wide and leaving her dripping down her thighs. He slapped it against her clit, smearing her juices, before shoving it back to her entrance, thick and blunt and threatening to split her open.

“You’re dripping for it,” he growled, guiding himself into her inch by inch until she was stretched around him. “You’ve been waiting for this.”

Her broken cry echoed off the walls. She clawed at the counter, knuckles white, as he drove in harder, deeper, setting a ruthless rhythm that shook the sink beneath them.

“Fuck—yes,” she gasped, every thrust dragging another moan from her throat. “God, yes—”

His hand tangled in her hair, yanking her head up so she had to watch herself in the mirror. Mascara smudged, lips swollen, mask slipping — she looked every inch as ruined as she felt.

“Say it,” he demanded, voice sharp over the slap of his hips against her ass.

“I—” her voice cracked, her orgasm already building again, “I’m your dirty little cum slut.”

“Louder.” His thrusts grew brutal, punishing.

“I’m your dirty little cum slut!” she screamed, her body spasming as she orgasmed again, clenching around him so hard he snarled against her ear.

He pulled out rough and dragged her down by the hair, her mask crooked as she dropped to her knees. She opened for him, but instead he stroked himself furiously until he groaned, erupting across her face in thick, messy ropes. Cum splattered over her cheeks, her lips, her mask, even dripping onto the bathroom tile.

He smeared it over her mouth with his cock, rubbing it across her swollen lips before shoving his thumb past them. She gagged around it, drool and cum mixing down her chin. “Fuck yes,” he moaned, watching her swallow around his thumb. “You look ruined—exactly how a cum-hungry slut should look.”

When he finally zipped himself back up, he crouched down in front of her, fingers gripping her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes through the crooked mask.

“You don’t even know my name, do you?” he whispered, his thumb dragging across her slick, swollen lips.

She shook her head, dazed, still trying to catch her breath.

“Dr. Aaron,” he said, voice low and deliberate. “You’re in my rotation next term at Lakeshore Hospital.”

He leaned in closer, his words hot against her ear. “And this won’t be the last time I have you on your knees.”