Sinful Secrets

by The_Busy_Beee

Summary:

Doug is a best selling author, known for his steamy novels, but when his editor tells him that his sex scenes are losing their touch, he has to find a way to spice them up.

Enter the high class escort Kirill.

Notes:

Alternative October Day 3 Prompts:
Mirror Sex
Corsets
Prostitution

Ahhh, I made it just under tbe wire today! I really thought I would be late, but I posted one hour before midnight! xD

This story has been in in my notes/Docs for a while, so I'm glad I've finally finished it! I hope you all enjoy this smutty little one shot! 💕

"What exactly are you saying, Travis..?" Doug asks, eyes narrowed. Travis sighs and tosses the manuscript onto his desk.

 

"I'm saying it's boring."

 

"Boring?" Doug asks, incredulous. Travis nods, sliding the stack of papers across his desk.

 

"Boring, repetitive; I'm pretty sure you simply copied and pasted the same sex scene you used three books ago into this one-"

 

"What's the difference??" Doug yanks the stack of papers back, irritated, "It's not like anyone would notice-"

 

"If I noticed, you can bet your ass the desperate housewives that read your smut will absolutely notice." Travis says, eyebrow arched, "I want a new sex scene on my desk by Friday."

 

"That's three days away-!"

 

"I want hot and steamy!" Travis says, leaning forward and folding his hands on the tabletop, "I want bodily fluids and new and insane sex positions and filth, Doug. Fresh filth." He throws an arm out wide, motioning at the wall of glass windows behind him, "There's a whole world full of kinks out there, my boy! Bring them to me!"

 

---

 

"Perverted old bastard," Doug grumbles around the butt of his cigarette. He stubs the cigarette out on the heel of his shoe and drops the butt into the trash can beside the building before pushing away with a sigh.

 

Travis is a good editor, but Doug hates how thorough he is sometimes. Sure, all of Travis' writers are highly regarded, but it doesn't change how much of an asshole he is sometimes. 

 

Besides, how in the world does he expect Doug to write a whole new sex scene, something he hasn't portrayed in the last five books, with zero inspiration?? He's sure Travis hasn't noticed, or maybe he just doesn't care, that Doug's sex life is basically nonexistent. He literally can't remember the last time he had sex. 

 

Doug sighs as he pushes open the frosted glass door and descends the stairs into his favorite bar. "It's not even four thirty, Doug!" A deep voice calls, and Doug knows the man can't see him, but he grins anyways.

 

"I just had a meeting with Travis; cut me a little slack," Doug purses his lips, a mockery of a pout, as he finally catches sight of Derick behind the bar. Derick rolls his eyes where he's polishing a glass but doesn't complain further.

 

"Your usual then?" He asks, amused. Doug shoots him a wink as he drops onto the red barstool.

 

"Of course."

 

---

 

"-and I mean, what does he expect me to do??" Doug rants, finishing off his second glass of whiskey, "He bitches when I use "textbook sex scenes" and if I reuse something, he complains about that- how does he expect me to continuously come up with new and erotic scenes when my bed is as cold as Deana's heart?" Derick barks out a laugh.

 

"Deana's probably furious for no reason right now."

 

"Probably," Doug agrees. "But unless she's about to feed me lines for my over sexed editor, I can worry about her this weekend."

 

Derick sighs, a fond smile on his lips, and moves to the register. "Watching you like this is too sad." Doug glares at him.

 

"Well excuse me for having no sex life," Doug grumbles.

 

"You have no sex life because you have no social life," Derick points out, Doug scoffs, eyes rolling, and Derick smiles again, "but I digress." He slides a small black business card across the bar and Doug feels both his eyebrows raise in surprise. The card is simple, with just a red flower in the background and elegant gold lettering, nothing overly obvious or gaudy, but with a name like Secretly Sinful, it's pretty obvious what kind of business card it is. 

 

"They're discreet and professional," Derick assures, "and are strict about privacy protection. You can make a reservation, but they also accept last minute appointments if they've got the staff for it." Derick shrugs. Doug turns the card over in his hand, reading the address and phone number on the card. "The people there are all professionals, and they match you to someone specifically to your tastes. I'm sure they could match someone to your depraved tastes as well." Derick teases.

 

Normally, he wouldn't look twice at a service like this, but he's got just enough alcohol in his system that it doesn't actually sound like a bad idea. The building isn't very far away; in an hour's time, he could be having sex with someone with zero expectations. No strings attached, no preconceived ideas; just someone to bang and walk away from. It would make for good reference material for his book.

 

And that's the thought that has him tapping the number into his cell phone as Derick walks into the kitchen, a small, smug smile on his face.

 

"Secretly Sinful," a feminine voice answers, "how can we fulfill your desires today?" 

 

And Doug's not really sure what to say at this point. Like… how does one tactfully say "I just need someone to fuck for the night"?

 

"Uh…"

 

"Is this your first time doing business with us, Sir?" The woman changes gears, and Doug can hear the quiet clacking of computer keys in the background.

 

"Uh, yes. I'm not really sure how to, um," and now he's feeling stupid and out of his depth and ready to strangle Derick hecause he set him up, didn't he-??

 

"Not a problem, Sir," she assures, "everyone is a first time customer at some point. The registration process is fairly easy, and then I'll be able to match you up with someone who can suit your tastes. I'll ask you a few easy questions, and then take your billing information. From there, I'll reserve you a room and one of our professionals will assist you with your needs from that point on. Okay?"

 

"Right. Yeah." Doug nods to himself, because that sounds easy enough. 

 

---

 

Forty-five minutes later, Doug is mostly sober and regretting this so much. He stares at the door in front of him, nerves knotting together in his stomach and choking him.

 

On the other side of this door… is a person he's paying for sex.

 

God, has he sunk so low that he has to pay for it now? Deana would have a fucking field day. God, so would Travis. Why did Derick have this card in the first place?? Why did Derick know so much about this??

 

Scratch that.

 

He doesn't wanna know.

 

Right now, he has to summon up enough courage to knock on the door in front of him. He's already paid for two hours, so not going in would be a waste of a substantial amount of money. He inhales deeply, wondering if they'd really been able to find someone suited to his tastes.

 

It wasn't like he asked for anything out there or wild, so hopefully..?

 

He finally reaches up to knock on the door, and immediately hears the shuffling of slippers on the other side. The door cracks open, and Doug's heart skips a beat, because shit-

 

They really found someone.

 

"Mr. Billingham..?" The younger (he has to be younger, god he looks so young- he's legal, right??) man asks, looking up at Doug from under his long, fluttery lashes, and Doug nods, unable to speak. The man's lips curl up, a deliciously devious twinkle in his blue, blue eyes. "I've been waiting for you."

 

He pulls the door open, and backs away, going further back into the room reserved for them, and Doug is helpless but to follow the lithe man in the powder pink silk robe. The door closes behind him with a resounding click and Doug knows there's no going back from here.

 

"Your requests were… pretty specific," the man says, sounding almost amused, and it feels like Doug is being teased, but he can't find it in himself to complain when those long, slender fingers are taking his hand and guiding him to the large bed in the middle of the room, covered in matching powder pink silk sheets.

 

"I hope I'm to your liking today." The man says, and he sounds so cocky. He knows Doug is pleased. He knows he's the fucking embodiment of sin right now, and this isn't fair. Doug tightens his hold on the soft fingers and tugs the man towards him, arms wrapping around the thin waist as he relishes in the way those blue eyes widen in surprise. Doug smirks, dialing the charm up to an eleven and channeling his inner Wes Charanson from his novels-

 

"I wouldn't know. You haven't shown me the part I really want to see." His fingers slide up the robe, feeling the bumps and ridges and a shiver goes up his spine when he realizes that the man really is wearing it-

 

Long fingers find their place on his chest and Doug watches pale pink lips part, porcelain pale cheeks begin to tinge with color, "Then why don't you pull this off me and see for yourself if you're satisfied with my service..?"

 

And Doug can't resist-

 

Their lips are crashing together, fingers tangling in his hair, his own hands gripping the at the man's waist-

 

"Name-" Doug gasps as they separate.

 

"Wha-" the man groans, fingers tightening in Doug's hair as the older man begins kissing and nipping at the bare throat in front of him, "-what?" He tries again.

 

"Your name," Doug murmurs against his ear before taking the lobe between his teeth.

 

"Oh," the man groans again, tipping his head back further to give Doug more room to work, "I can be anyone you want me to be, Daddy," he breathes. And those blue eyes have Doug bewitched; he's tugging the tie of the robe open, teeth biting down and ripping a whimpering moan from the lithe man. 

 

"Then you can be Daddy's pretty little Kitten," he growls. His Kitten shivers, bottom lip trapped between his teeth, and Doug's breath catches when he steps back to take in the view.

 

The vivid purple corset contrasts perfectly with the younger man's pale skin and lilac hair, the gold trim and swirling pattern adding an extra layer of wow-

 

"Does Daddy like it..?" Doug meets the shorter man's eyes, and while his voice was soft and demure, the smug smirk on his face is more than enough indication that he wasn't really asking- he already knows the answer.

 

"So much sass in such a small body," Doug mumbles reaching out to tug him close again, "looks like I'll have to fuck the attitude right out of you."

 

---

 

"Don't look away," Doug growls, fingers tight on the younger man's jaw, "watch how well you take it-" he snaps his hips up, grits his teeth, and the man mewls, clawing at the bedsheets in front of him, trying to keep his eyes open and on the mirror in front of them, but it's so much-

 

Doug is so deep inside him, fucking him within an inch of his life, and he's never been made to watch himself before- god, does he always look this debauched? 

 

Spit is trailing down his chin, because he can't seem to close his mouth; not with Doug taking and taking and forcing those disgustingly loud moans out of him. He hasn't been able to breathe properly since he first saw.the older man, and now that his cock is in him, his hands are on him, his eyes are watching him- now that Doug is taking him apart, piece by piece, he definitely can't breathe properly. The corset isn't helping matters either, but he had been so excited when the request had come through for him to be wearing a corset.

 

He loves the feel of them, the way they hug his body and how they make men look at him, but he never usually has a chance to wear them for long; they always get ripped off and thrown to the floor, completely disregarded. But Doug... Doug had run his fingers over the patterns and hooks carefully, had kissed around the edges and praised his beautiful corset-

 

He's crying, tears of pleasure and overstimulation are streaking his red cheeks and burning his eyes and clouding his vision but he can see Doug, as clear as ever, watching him as he ducks into him faster, harder-

 

"Gonna cum, Kitten," he rumbles, and his hands, Doug's big, calloused hands, are moving to jerk his body upright, forcing the whole length into him, pushing deeper than before and he wails , so full and fucked out and Doug is holding him there, barely pulling out an inch before shoving back in, grinding against his prostate, and he's cumming-

 

He thinks he blacks out for a minute, he must have, because when he comes to, the corset has been removed and Doug is carefully wiping him down with a warm cloth. "You alright, Kitten?" Doug asks, voice a little hoarse and eyebrows drawn.

 

"Kirill," the smaller man croaks, his throat dry and absolutely wrecked in the best of ways. Doug frowns, a little confused, and Kirill smiles as he reaches on hand out to brush away a few stray hairs from Doug's face. "My name. You earned it."

 

"Just your name..?" Doug can't help but ask, sitting up to run his fingers through the silky, lilac hair. Kirill hums softly, letting his eyes close once more.

 

"For now."

 

---

 

"This is fantastic, Doug!" Travis raves, turning the page, "I think this is your best scene yet! Where did you find the inspiration for this??"

 

Doug's lips curl into a small smile.

 

"I can't tell you all my secrets, Travis."