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That was my rule.
But I found myself sliding the tablet up onto my chest, the camera aimed down to where my hand had disappeared into my panties.
A low, rumbling sound escaped him as soon as the camera focused on my bare legs, on the swatch of pink that was my panties, on my hand moving under them.
“Are you wet for me?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Slide your fingers into your pussy for me,” he demanded, making my sex clench hard even as my fingers slid to do just as he said. “Think of this sliding in inch by inch,” he said, stroking his cock slowly as I slipped my fingers into myself, a low moan escaping me. “Feels good, hm?” he asked, voice low and deep.
“Yes,” I whimpered, imagining the cock in his hand stretching me, settling deep.
“Move with me, baby,” he demanded as he started to stroke himself faster.
I didn’t need more encouragement than that.
My fingers started to thrust in pace with his strokes as my palm pressed against my cleft, engaging my clit as my hand moved.
I don’t think I’d ever been driven up as quickly before as I was right then, my soft sighs becoming desperate moans as I followed his lead.
“Come for me, baby,” he demanded, voice rough, close himself.
Just another minute or so, and I felt myself in a free fall for a moment before the pleasure slammed through my system, making me cry out.
“Fuck,” he groaned, stroking a few more times before he was coming on the tail end of my orgasm.
I came back slowly, my eyes closed as I tried to slow my breathing.
That was why I hadn’t noticed right away.
That he’d flipped to the front camera of his phone.
That it was hisfaceon the screen.
When my lashes finally flickered open, though, I almost dropped my damn tablet.
Because it was him.
The biker from the meeting with PatronSinners.
The one who’d sat across from me.
I mean, sure, when I first saw the guy with the biker helmet pop up, there’d been this immediate belief that it was the same guy.
But I’d been talking myself out of that ever since then, reminding myself that a biker helmet was a good way to completely obscure yourself, so no one knew who you were. I was sure if I did a search, there’d be several of them on the site now.
But it was him.
The same chiseled jaw. The same green eyes. The same light hair.
Stupidly handsome.
It was kind of a crime he kept all that gorgeousness hidden under a full helmet.
The thing was, when I’d been telling myself that it was just a stranger, it was somehow… okay. To play around.
Knowing it was him, though, was different.
