My hand resumes caressing her cheek. “Collins,” she groans, pressing her thighs together.
I recall Tatianna’s words during our last conversation. She lightly gripped my cock and said don’t let her lay a finger on this. A wicked thought invades my mind. If I use my own hand, I won’t be breaking my promise. My lust-filled brain knows the logic is all wrong, but none of me cares.
“Will you do something for me?” I ask, my voice breathless.
She nods.
“I want you to touch your pussy,” I whisper.
She sucks in a breath, and her eyes widen.
I push my thumb into her mouth, her lips parting to accept me. Her mouth is hot and wet and when she swirls her tongue around my thumb, I imagine it’s the head of my cock and release a strangled groan.
Removing my thumb, I reach down and palm my cock through my shorts. “Fuck.” My body aches with the need for a release.
When she opens her mouth to speak, I think she’s about to argue, to tell me that this is crazy. “Will you…” her eyes fall to my lap. “Stroke yourself too?” she asks.
I nod. “If you rub that swollen clit of yours.” I glance down at her bare legs, which are still pressed together.
She swallows, and her eyes get this determined look. It’s beautiful. She lifts her T-shirt, slowly, carefully, treating me to another erotic show.
My greedy gaze follows the path, eating up each inch of skin she exposes. She’s shaved bare, and my mouth waters knowing how smooth she’d be against my face. She continues lifting the shirt until she can pull it off over her head. I appreciate the dip in her soft belly, and the way her full, heavy breasts sway when she drops the shirt over the side of the bed.
Once she’s naked, she gets a little shy, and I worry for a second that she’s going to back out on me.
“Your breasts are beautiful,” I say. “Touch them for me,” I whisper.
Tentatively, she brings her hands to her breasts and cups their weight.
“Gorgeous,” I murmur, urging her on.
Still unsure, and chewing on her lower lip, her fingertips graze her nipples and she draws a shuddering breath.
“That’s it. It’s so fucking hot watching you.”
She circles her nipples and they harden into peaks. Her eyes drift closed and she releases a soft sigh from the pleasurable contact.
“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” I ask.
She blinks her eyes open and finds my eyes. “Yes,” she breathes.
“Good girl. Trail your right hand down your belly.”
With her eyes still on mine, she lowers her hand.
“Slow,” I tell her.
She swallows and slows her movements, letting her fingers graze her belly, then her hip bone as she moves it lower.
“Put your hand between your legs and tell me how wet you are.”
Her fingers dip lower, and she moans. “I’m soaked, Collins.”
Fuck.
I need to touch my cock, but I won’t do it until she asks again. Right now is about her—her pleasure. And something tells me if I’m not directing her movements, encouraging her, she’ll stop. I can’t have that.
“Push one finger inside for me,” I growl.
She does, sinking her finger in up to the knuckle, and lets out a moan as her eyes drift closed.
“Tell me how you feel,” I whisper.
She inhales sharply, her finger drawing in and out. “I…Oh, God, it feels good. It’s been so long.”
I’m unsure what to make of her comment—it’s been a long time since she’s had a lover, or since she’s touched herself? But I don’t care. Either way, I just want to see her come all over her fingers while I’m beside her.
“Show me,” I say.
Her eyes latch onto mine, confused.
“Show me how you make yourself come,” I say.
I can read the indecision in her eyes. I don’t want a sexy show; I want her to touch herself like she does when no one’s watching.
“I want to see you too.” She looks down my abs, to where my cock is straining against the shorts.
I nod, reaching for my waistband, then pause. Her eyes dart back up to mine. “Don’t come until I say,” I tell her. Then I pull my shorts down my hips until my cock is freely resting against my stomach. I take myself in my hand, stroking lightly. I growl out a curse. My cock is so hard and so sensitive it’s not going to take me long. “Now show me how you like it.”
She withdraws her fingers and parts her outer lips until that pleasure-seeking bundle of nerves is exposed, then she rubs herself in a circular motion. At the end of the bed, I see her toes curl.
Hell yeah.
Her breathing increases and grows ragged. I want it to be my fingers stroking her clit until she writhes and comes undone, but if it can’t be me, then watching her do it is the next best thing.