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“I need,” she tried to say, but her throat closed up. “Cole, this is hard.”
“Telling me what you want? Or my dick? Because I promise you—”
She burst into laughter.
“Let’s take some pressure off,” he purred. “Why don’t I tell you what I want to do to you instead?”
Silently, her lips pinned between her teeth, she nodded.
“First, I’d graze my teeth over your nipples one at a time, then I’d lick them, then suck them one last time, leaving them wet and hard and greedy for more while I trailed kisses down your body. Would that feel good?”
“Yes,” she said, closing her eyes against the ghost-like sensation of his mouth on her skin, her nipples so hard now they hurt.
“Then I’d settle between your legs, slide my hands up your thighs, my fingers under the hem of your shorts.”
“Yes,” she said again, raising her heavy lids.
“Place your hand on your thigh, Mira.”
Like he’d attached strings to them, her arms and hands and fingers obeyed.
“Show me. Let me see.”
Lowering the phone, she aimed her camera at the spot where she toyed with the hem of her shorts.
When he said, “Perfect. So perfect,” the praise made her shiver. “Slide your fingers higher for me. Pull those sexy pink shorts to the side. Let me see.”
Curling her fingers under the terry cloth fabric, she did as asked.
“Are you as wet as you look?” His voice caressed her skin, a feather brushing over the most sensitive parts of her. “Are you slippery?”
“I…don’t know,” she told him, her core going molten, her heart thundering. “Do you want me to check?”
He made a pained noise, and when she looked back up at her phone, he wasn’t looking at her, not at her eyes anyway. With his gaze locked between her thighs, he said, “Pull your underwear out of the way, sugar. I have to see you. Please.Please, Mira.”
It was that secondpleasethat undid her, the needy rasp across the line. Sliding her finger beneath the elastic of her underwear, she pulled it to the side, exposing herself fully to him.
“So pretty,” he said, his pupils blown. “So pink and swollen and wet. I want to taste it.”
Desire shuddered through her. “Tell me what to do.”
“Take off your shorts and your underwear. I need to see everything.”
Lifting her hips, she pushed her shorts and undies down her legs, letting them slide from her feet to the floor. When she positioned the phone between her legs again, when he said, “Closer, Mira,” it felt almost obscene, watching his tongue sneak out to wet his lips, seeing what he saw in the corner of her screen, seeing herself spread out for him, hearing someone who sounded like her ask, “What should I do next?”
“Touch yourself. Touch yourself and pretend it’s me. My fingers. My mouth.” He hummed deep in his throat. “Show me how you like it.”
She hadn’t been this wet in literal decades, her fingers sliding between her lips, her head landing on the wall behind her with a soft thud when the slippery tip of her middle finger reached her clit.
“Is that how you like it?” he asked when she started stroking herself lightly, drawing tiny circles. “Slow and sweet? Or do you like it faster? Harder?”
She wasn’t going to survive this. She was going to come so fast and so thoroughly she’d simply cease to be, drifting through the formless void forever. But it was too late to turn back now. “Faster. I like it faster.”
“That’s what I thought. Don’t hold back, Mira.” While her circling gained speed, while she added the pressure of a second fingertip, he said, “Imagine my mouth is on you now. Imagine I’m licking you, flicking my tongue over you, grazing your clit so gently with my teeth.”
All light in her room narrowed to a pinpoint, every sound except his voice sucked into the vacuum of sensation as pleasure built at the base of her spine, spreading out through her stomach, curling her toes.
“I’m going faster now,” he said, and her fingers responded, moving swiftly, feverishly, sacrificing rhythm for speed. “I’m swirling, sucking, sliding a finger inside—”
