“What?”
“Licking my lips. Because I’m thinking of me kissing my way over your thighs and then running my tongue up and down where I’m dying to be.” She moaned his name again and was rewarded. “Go down there, Ehlena. On top of the stockings. Go where I want to be.”
As she did, she felt all the heat they’d generated through the thin nylon, and her sex responded by welling up even more.
“Take them off,” he said. “The stockings. Take them off and keep them with you.”
Ehlena put down the phone again and didn’t care if she ran the hell out of the hose as she stripped them from her legs. Scrambling for the cell, she barely got it in range before she was demanding what was next.
“Slip your hand under your panties. And tell me what you find.”
There was a pause. “Oh, God…I’m wet.”
When Rehvenge moaned this time, she wondered if he was erect: She’d seen that he was capable of that, but then, impotence didn’t mean that you couldn’t get hard. It just meant that for whatever reason you couldn’t finish.
Christ, she wished she could lay some commands on him, ones that were consistent with whatever sexual level he could function at. She just didn’t know how far to take it.
“Stroke yourself and know it’s me,” he growled. “That’s my hand.”
She did as he asked and orgasmed hard, sprawling all over her bed, his name leaving her lips in as quiet an explosion as possible.
“Get rid of the panties.”
Roger that, she thought as she yanked them down her thighs and ditched them God only knew where.
She lay back down, looking forward to doing that again when he said, “Can you hold the phone against your ear with your shoulder?”
“Yes.” Screw it; if he wanted her to turn herself into a vampire pretzel she was on board with the plan.
“Take the stockings between both hands, stretch them out taut, then run them in between your legs front to back.”
She laughed with an erotic edge, then said sweetly, “You want me to work myself against them, do you?”
His breath shot into her ear. “Fuck, yes.”
“Dirty male.”
“A tongue bath from you might clean me up. What do you say?”
“Yes.”
“I love that word on your lips.” As she laughed, he said, “So what are you waiting for, Ehlena? You need to put those stockings to good use.”
She cradled the cell phone in her neck, found a good position for it, and then, feeling like a harlot and loving it, she took her white stockings, rolled onto her side, and threaded the nylon length between her legs.
“Nice and tight,” he said, panting.
She gasped at the contact, the hard, smooth line diving into her sex in all the right places.
“Move yourself against it,” Rehvenge said with satisfaction. “Let me hear how good it feels.”
She did exactly that, the stockings getting saturated and warming to match her core. She kept at it, riding the sensations and his stream of words until she came over and over: In the dark, with her eyes closed and his voice in her ear, it was almost as good as being with him.
When she was limp and lying in a heap, her breath laboring but in a very good way, she cuddled around the phone.
“You are so beautiful,” he said softly.
“Only because you make me that way.”
“Oh, you’re so wrong about that.” His voice dropped. “Will you come and see me earlier tonight? I can’t wait until four.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“When.”
“I’ll be with my mother and family here until about ten. Come then?”
“Yes.”
“I have that meeting, but we’ll get well over an hour of privacy.”
“Perfect.”
There was a long pause, one that she had the alarming sense might well have been filled with I love you on both sides if they’d had the courage.
“Sleep well,” he breathed.
“You, too, if you can. And listen, if you can’t sleep, call me. I’m here.”
“I will. Promise.”
There was another stretch of quiet, as if each were waiting for the other to hang up first.
Ehlena laughed, even though the idea of letting him go made her heart ache. “Okay, on the count of three. One, two-”
“Wait.”
“What?”
He didn’t answer for the longest time. “I don’t want to get off the phone.”
She closed her eyes. “I feel the same way.”
Rehvenge released a breath, low and slow. “Thank you. For staying on with me.”
The word that came to mind didn’t make a whole lot of sense, and she wasn’t sure why she spoke it, but she did: