There wasn’t much room, and the angle wasn’t quite right, but I used my free hand to adjust the vibrator. It felt good.
But it was Tripp’s reaction that was stoking my need.
I’d planned to torture him. I wanted to draw it out until we were both at our breaking points and then push it further still.
But at the raw lust in his rapt gaze, I couldn’t.
“Be a good girl and lean back,” he ordered.
Once upon a time, I would’ve hesitated, overthinking the angle and how I looked. That was never a concern anymore.
For the most part, at least.
Right then, I was too far gone to overthink. Too far gone to feel self-conscious or doubt or anything but the driving need to make him as happy as he made me.
I did as he said, propping myself up on my elbows so I could still see him.
“So good. Don’t be shy. Show me that perfect pussy.”
I spread my legs.
“Never mind,” he rumbled. “Open this damn door.”
I didn’t obey that or any other demand.
Repositioning the vibrator, I let the low thrum slowly tighten the coil of need.
There were no more orders from Tripp. No more threats. He watched with enthralled intensity as I fucked myself while he stroked his dick like I was his personal porno.
His fantasy.
The voyeur room at Gilded hadn’t done it for either of us, and we’d never returned. Tripp was the only man I trusted enough to see me when I was a pathetic mess. I was the only one Tripp wanted to see, and he would lose his mind at the mere thought of someone else seeing what was his.
Our version at that moment was infinitely better.
The faster he stroked, the more I increased the suction. I had no clue if he could hear the noise the toy made as it slid through my wetness, but it was obscene.
And hot.
So hot.
The vibration. The clit stimulation. Tripp.
All of it did it for me in a big way, and there was no fighting against the orgasm that crashed through me. I cried out, forcing my lids to stay open so I could watch Tripp.
I jolted when his palm slapped the door, rattling it as he came all over the glass.
I fell back, sliding the toy from my oversensitive core with a hiss.
Tripp gave me a second to catch my breath before saying, “I need to touch my wife.”
But I wasn’t done yet.
I forced a lid open to confirm his shorts were back in place before rolling off the bench with all the grace of a stoned turtle. I grabbed the items that I’d tossed to the mattress, carefully hiding them behind my back as I stepped into view.
My trembling hands and hammering heart had nothing to do with the post-orgasm rush. I swallowed hard.
And then I showed him what was in my left hand.
