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She nods. Still, she stares at me.
I stare back at her. "Now."
Slowly, she pushes herself to her feet. I catch a glimpse of her cunt as she steps into the living room.
She leaves the sliding door open.
I watch her walk all the way up the stairs, I find what I need in the kitchen, then I make her wait for long enough to get her panting.
Who am I kidding? I should make her wait longer.
But I need this.
I need her.
The white light of morning is streaming through the curtains, bouncing off the white sheets, casting the room in a soft glow.
Lacey is lying on the bed, her legs a few inches apart.
I press the door closed behind me and set the bottle of champagne on the bedside table.
She pushes herself up on her elbows. Her eyes meet mine. They're equal parts nervous and needy.
I keep my voice that low, demanding tone. "You touch yourself, baby?"
Slowly, she shakes her head.
"You want to?"
"Yes." Her eyes go to the bottle then to my hands. To my crotch. My chest. My eyes. "I'd rather you touch me."
"You've thought about me?"
She nods.
"About me or about that guy who gets onstage?"
"Both. The former, since we met." She presses her lips together. "What's the champagne for?"
"For me. Then for you. If you want to sit up, go sit up against the headboard."
She pushes herself back on the bed so she's leaning against the headboard. Her legs aren't spread enough. I can barely see her.
She's nervous.
I have to take this slow, no matter how badly my cock begs for her soft pink lips.
I position myself at the foot of the bed. "Spread your legs."
She hesitates. I bite my tongue. I haven't thought about how I'll punish her. Fuck, the thought of spanking that cute ass of hers is making me hard.
But she's not ready for that yet.
I hold her gaze. "Now."
Slowly, she moves her knees apart.
"Fuck, baby. That's beautiful." She's soft and pink and she's already wet. Her eyes are on fire. Desire is pushing her nerves away. "Touch yourself."
