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My eyes flicked to Lark as she shifted in her bed. Clearly, sleep wasn’t coming to her. I only needed a few hours to function. Normally, I’d work. Or spend time on one of my hobbies. But not since meeting her.
Even before the cameras, I’d spent my nights researching her. Finding out everything I could on her. A computer could only tell me so much. The cameras would let me see the real her. The person she kept hidden from the world.
Putting the book down, I minimized the screens showing her living room. A search engine popped up in its place and I started my next phase of research.
How to show a woman you love her?
The screen filled with options. Articles from dating magazines. Book recommendations. Videos from self-proclaimed experts.
I scrolled until an article caught my attention. The five love languages. I heard Lark’s frustrated sighs as she rolled around. The sound soothed me as I read the article, wondering what category she fell into.
Acts of service. Quality time. Gifts. Words of affirmation. Physical touch. I vowed to do each one. To watch her reactions and learn what she liked. I was just pondering what gift I could get her when a noise from her screens drew my attention.
My body stiffened as a soft little moan filtered through the cameras. I sat straighter in my chair, minimizing my searches and pulling up the views of Lark’s bedroom, including a shot of her laying on her bed.
From her feet to her mussed hair. My eyes glanced over the thin sleep shirt that exposed the smooth skin on her stomach. Down to her one bent leg and the blankets just covering her upper thigh to her low stomach. Electricity raced through my spine as I saw her hand moving underneath them.
My fingers tapped the keyboard as I pulled up the camera view on her bedside lamp. Her profile filled half the screen, the other still her full body image. I watched her lips part, heard another soft moan. Her head tipped back, showing me the rapid pulse in her neck. I tracked the blush beneath the freckles on her cheeks.
It was obvious, even to me, what she was doing. My cock hardened so fast my head spun. My chest stuttered with an unsteady breath. One hand fell to my upper thigh.
Restless energy grew in my veins. Prickled across my skin as I watched her back arch off the bed. My gaze was drawn to the curve of her body. Her delicate neck. Her soft pink lips.
Her sweet little whimpers echoed in my ear. Sunk into my soul until I knew I’d never forget them.
My hand moved, brushing over my aching cock. It strained against the fabric of my boxers, begging me to take care of it.
I stilled. My eyes never leaving her as she circled her fingers faster. I couldn’t get off on watching her. It was an awful thing to do. Worse than what I’d done so far.
Heat pooled in my gut. The tension inside me grew until my hips were moving on their own. Thrusting into my hand.
Would it be so wrong? She knew I was watching, and she still touched herself. Did she want me to see? Was this a game, a trick?
I had no idea what it meant, but I couldn’t stop from joining her. Not when I was more turned on than I’d ever been in my life.
Reaching into my boxers, I pulled out my throbbing cock. It was thick and long, twitching in my palm as I stroked myself. Twisting around the head, I groaned as she played with her nipples. I could just make out the hard peaks beneath her thin shirt.
My balls throbbed as I wondered what they would feel like. Taste like. I observed how she touched herself with rapt attention. Noting every roll of her fingers. Every quiet whimper and jerk of her hips. I categorized it all for future reference.
My hips thrust as I pumped my cock faster, unable to stop the lust coursing through my veins. I knew humans needed this release. It filled us with dopamine and reduced cortisol. It was a necessary biological function.
That’s how it was for me. But not this time. It became something else as I watched Lark.
As I saw her hand move faster. The blush on her cheeks. Heard the gasp from her parted lips.
I wanted to replace her fingers with mine. Or my tongue. Wanted to know what she’d taste like as she moaned. I needed her to do it for me.
I craved feeling her pulse under my fingers. Feel her pussy as the orgasm exploded through her. I desired to be the one to make her feel like this.
Little tremors of electricity raced through my body. My thumb swept over the slit on the head of my cock, rubbing precum along my skin as I moved. I kept watching as my strokes became fast and hard. I couldn’t pull my gaze away as I wondered what she was thinking.
Her moans rose. Her fingers worked faster. She was going to come, and I was going to watch. But to my surprise, she stopped at the last minute.
My cock protested, pulsing in my palm as I stopped too. Unwilling to finish without her.
I wanted to run from the room and find her. Use the key I’d stolen and break into her apartment. Rip open her bedroom door and fuck her.
For the first time ever, I wondered what it would be like.
