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My attention caught on a broken clock that rested over his heart. The hands were forever frozen at 11:42. Fractured, shattered fragments scattered off to one side as if they’d been taken by the wind, and an eye peered out from the middle of it.
Everything about it felt ominous and dark.
As dark as the need that blazed in his eyes.
Then the air was yanked from my lungs when he drifted lower, over the hard planes of his abdomen, the cuts and grooves flexing and bowing with his movements.
Because he had his cock in his hand, jerking himself in harsh, rigid strokes. The man was massive, thick and long, his crown engorged and fat. He curled his palm over the tip before he ran back down.
Arousal dripped out to soak my thighs, and a shudder ran through me in a freight train of need.
“Shit,” I whimpered.
“Do you still think you can handle me, Ms. Dae?” His voice rang with the challenge.
Nope. No. I definitely did not, but I really wanted to give it a go. I wanted to know what it would feel like to have him over me, filling me, taking me violently the way he was stroking himself.
“Look at you,” he murmured. “So fucking gorgeous. That face could ruin a man.”
I didn’t even realize he was paying attention to my face. Not when I couldn’t look away from the sight of him, but I had to when he moved his phone so I could only see the intensity burning on his.
Eyes aflame.
My stomach twisted and blood thundered through my veins.
“Have you been thinking about me, Ms. Dae? Fantasizing about me?”
I pressed my knees together while I gave him an erratic nod. “Yes.”
“Your turn,” he said, his voice dark, pitching with each stroke of his hand. “Show me what you’ve been dreaming about.”
I only hesitated for half a second before I decided if we were doing this thing once and only tonight, I was going to give the man the full show. I leaned over and dragged my bag out from under the bed, and I rummaged around for my vibrator.
The truth was, my fingers weren’t going to do.
Not when he sparked this deep, guttural ache. I wanted to be stretched wide and filled to the brim.
“Shit,” it was his turn to hiss when he saw my toy.
“I’m not the type of girl who doesn’t like to come prepared, Mr. Greyson.”
So maybe I’d been worried the house was going to smell too much like him, that I was going to be inundated with his presence, that the growing attraction toward him was going to burgeon and sprout and become all-consuming.
I’d thought I might need relief, but what I’d never, ever expected was this.
This need that throbbed and glowed and begged to be filled.
Lying back on the bed, I rested my head on a pillow and lifted the phone high. My breasts strained against the confines of my tank, and I tipped the phone to capture where the hem had ridden up enough to expose my belly button.
Quivers rocked my thighs where I had my feet planted on the bed.
“Let me see your pretty cunt,” he demanded, his voice a rasp, and he had his phone held up high, too, the man giving me full vantage to the miracle that was his dick.
There was a piece of me that wanted to be shy right then, so exposed, letting go, trusting him to hold this private moment.
But I realized I did—somehow, I trusted him with this.
I sighed out when I gave it to him, angling the phone so he could see.
“Look at you. Your pussy is perfect. Gorgeous. Is it aching for me?” he groaned. “You’re dripping, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Turn it on and let me see you fuck yourself, Ms. Dae. The whole time, you’d better be wishing it was me.”
“So bossy,” I told him, my voice too gaspy to allow it to come out light.
He growled. “Have you met me?”
“Unfortunately.” I couldn’t help but taunt him, tease him the way he was teasing me, the man ruining me with each second that passed.
As if I wouldn’t be wishing it was him, but the last thing I wanted to do was admit how desperately that I did.
I was sure he could tell the truth, anyway, the way I moaned when the tip of the vibrator hit my slick entrance. It slid right in since I was soaked and ready.
I moaned, “Caleb,” like he was the one penetrating me.
It was much smaller than him, and I’d always considered it more than sufficient in the past, but as I began to pump it in and out, the little nub hitting my clit each time, it didn’t come close to being enough.
“You have to be the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen. Perfect chaos.” His words had grown harsher, deeper and desperate as we both drove ourselves toward climax.
