Wicked Whispers in the Night

**Chapter 1: Midnight Mischief**

The room was cloaked in the soft hush of midnight, the only light a sliver of moonlight sneaking through the blinds, casting silver streaks across the bed. Jace lay there, blissfully unaware, his delicate features softened in sleep, lips slightly parted, a vision of innocent beauty. His pale skin glowed under the faint illumination, and his tousled lavender hair framed that gorgeous face of his. My sweet, pristine femboy. My obsession.

I, Riley, stood over him, my toned, muscular frame bare as the day I was born. At 38, I’ve got the kind of body that’s been sculpted by years of grit and sweat, not some dainty gym membership. My short-cropped hair and devil-may-care smirk have always screamed tomboy, and I wear it like a badge of honor. But tonight, I was feeling something far from honorable. Naughty didn’t even begin to cover it.

I bit my lip, a wicked grin spreading across my face as I watched him sleep. 'Goddamn, Jace, you’re too pretty for your own good,' I muttered under my breath, my voice a low growl. 'Makes a girl wanna do bad things.'

I slid onto the bed, careful not to jostle the mattress too much. My bare, muscular ass hovered just inches from his face as I positioned myself with the precision of a cat burglar. The thrill of it sent a shiver down my spine. I knew how much he obsessed over hygiene—hell, the guy had a ten-step skincare routine and freaked out if a speck of dirt touched his precious face. If he knew what I was about to do, he’d scream bloody murder. And that? That just made it hotter.

I let out a slow, silent breath, my heart pounding with the delicious secrecy of it all. Then, with a smirk, I released a quiet, controlled puff of air—a little fart, just enough to satisfy the deviant urge bubbling inside me. I stifled a laugh, glancing back to make sure he hadn’t stirred. His face remained serene, oblivious to the scandalous act inches from his perfect nose. 'Oh, baby boy, if only you knew,' I whispered to myself, my voice dripping with mischief. 'You’d lose your damn mind.'

The thought of him being so unaware, so pure, while I indulged in this filthy little secret made my skin tingle. I shifted slightly, my thighs flexing as I hovered over him, the heat between my legs growing with every second. 'You’re gonna stay my little angel, aren’t you?' I purred softly, my tone laced with dark amusement. 'Never gonna know how dirty your tough girl can get.'

My hand slid down my own body, tracing the hard lines of my abs, teasing lower as I watched him. The risk, the taboo of it all, had me burning up inside. I was getting wet just thinking about how I could push this further, how I could wake him up in a way that’d have him panting under me. I imagined his soft lips parting in a gasp, those wide, innocent eyes looking up at me as I took control. 'Bet you’d blush so pretty if I told you what I did,' I teased the air, my voice a husky whisper. 'But nah, this is my dirty little game.'

I leaned forward, my breath hitching as I felt the first stirrings of something primal. My fingers dipped lower, and I couldn’t help but imagine waking him with a different kind of surprise. The thought of his cock, hard and ready, made my pulse race. I wanted to see him sweating, horny, his delicate frame trembling under my command. I wanted to hear him beg for more, to feel him dripping with need as I took him apart piece by piece.

'Time to play, pretty boy,' I murmured, my voice thick with lust as I reached out, my hand hovering just above his cheek. One little touch, one little nudge, and this game would explode into something neither of us could control. I was ready to make him mine in every filthy, delicious way.