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His hands go to the tie on my robe, undoing it and letting it fall open before he slips them underneath and slides it back off my shoulders. It falls to the bed, and his eyes drop to my chest. I’m breathing heavily, and he can tell—he watches the rise and fall as he unhooks my bra. The clasps open, and he tugs it down. There’s a soft sound of approval when he finds my nipples hard underneath. His fingers sneak under the band of my panties next, the gentle version of him that asks permission long gone, and he wrenches them down my thighs.
His fingers slip between my legs, and he brushes them over me, letting the pads dance over my clit before he dips them inside. His eyes shutter and a soft groan comes when he feels me.
“Oh, fuck. Look how wet he’s got you. You’d soak his fucking cock, wouldn’t you?”
A small sound escapes my throat, and his eyes snap to mine.
“Get on the bed, Madison.”
“You don’t tell me what to do.”
“Don’t I? That’s how you always used to like it.”
I lean back until my ass bumps the mattress, then I crawl backward until my shoulders hit the pile of pillows at the top. Half-confident that he’s going to follow and climb on top of me. Hoping he will.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he grabs the chair from the corner of the room and drags it in front of the bed. He sits back in it, his legs wide, and he kicks one foot up on the footboard.
He nods at my thighs. “Spread those wide for me, Madison. I want to see how good he makes you feel. Want to watch you soak yourself and that bed while you think about him.”
I roll my lip nervously between my teeth. This isn’t the Quentin I know. I’ve only ever experienced the gentle side of him. The one who treats me like I’m glass that needs to be handled with gloves and soft careful touches. This man is the one I haven’t met yet.
“You want the vibrator? Or you think he’s so good you could come with just your hands?” He glances at the bag on the bed before his eyes fall back on me.
“I don’t need it,” I say absently, my eyes dropping to where his hands are undoing the button and zipper on his jeans. “What are you doing?” The last words I speak are barely above a whisper.
“You need him. But I need you. It’s always you when I close my eyes. So I figure I might as well have it one last time. Will that distract you? I don’t want to ruin the fantasy for you.” He pulls his cock out and wraps his hand around himself, his eyes lift to meet mine in question.
Mine drift between his and his cock. I swallow hard, and he starts to stroke himself.
“Is it okay like this? You can pretend like I’m not here. Just imagine your golden boy between your thighs.”
“I…”
“Go on. It’s awkward if it’s just me imagining the two of you.”
I slip my hand between my legs, tentatively letting my fingers trail over my skin. I’m in too much shock to know what else to do but follow his orders.
“Touch your clit for me. Run your fingers through, gorgeous. I want to hear how wet he has you.”
I lightly touch myself, letting my fingers brush over my clit as I stare at him. The muscles of his arm and chest work as he runs his hand over his cock.
“Quentin…” I whisper.
“Nah, gorgeous. Nick. That was his name, right? Say his name for me.”
“Quentin, please.” I falter.
“No, baby girl. You’re getting confused. His name is Nick.” His jaw tightens, and he lets out a breath as he starts to stroke himself harder, faster than before. “Touch yourself. Don’t let me do this alone.”
I’m so fucking desperate to have his cock in me, I slip my fingers inside, easing them in and out while I grind my palm over my clit. I’m torturing myself because none of it is as good as him.
“There you go. That’s how you like it. I remember when you showed me the first time. Did you show him yet? How you like to be touched. Did he memorize it like I did? Spend all his time trying to figure out how to make it better for you?”
“Please… I just… Please,” I whisper, risking a glance at him again.
“Please what, Madison? Say his name and tell him what you want. Tell him how badly you need his cock inside you right now. Beg him for it.”
“Qu—”
