“Find out for me, baby,” he instructs, and I slowly glide my hand under my underwear. “Do not put your fingers inside yourself yet. Feel the wetness. Tell me.”
“I am. I am wet.” I want more, but I wait.
“Circle your clit. Do it now,” he says roughly, and I inhale sharply. “Yeah, it feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Please.” I continue to circle.
“I bet you taste fucking delicious. I would love to eat you,” he grits out. “I want you to put a finger inside you.”
“Yes,” I hiss, and dig the fingers of my other hand in the blankets. I’ve pleasured myself many times, yet it’s never felt like this. “I love your voice.”
“Do you? That pleases me, baby. Stroke. Slowly.” The timbre of his voice echoes around the room and through my body. “How does it feel?”
“Hot. Soft.” I close my eyes and think about nothing except his words and the desire they cause.
“Add another finger. Stretch yourself,” he rasps.
“I’m—” I roll my hips, meeting the motion of my hand.
“Are you getting close?”
“Yes, Ezra.”
“Faster. Thrust faster.” He pauses, and I bend my knees, pushing with my heels. “Fuck, I can hear how wet you are. I can’t wait to lick you after I make you come. Do you want that, baby?”
“I do.” I want to give him everything. The pull begins to rise in my stomach, swirling with desire, and the need to come.
“Curl your finger. I want you to come. Get there.” I release the blankets and grab the headboard.
“Ezra.”
“Yeah, baby. Move those hips, reach for it. Do it for me,” he groans.
“Yes.” I hit my g-spot again and again as I drag my finger out of me. I fall over the edge, my toes curling, and my chest lifts. “Ezra,” I cry. My movements become jerky, and waves of pleasure roll over me. My hand tightens on the wood to the point of pain, and my heartbeat pounds in my ears. Coming so hard and fast is new to me, and I smile.
I stop moving my hand and drop my legs, unable to hold them up.
“That was stunning,” he whispers, and I pry my hand off the headboard. “How do you feel, baby?”
“So good,” I say huskily, and he chuckles. The sound causes little aftershocks to course through me, and I exhale.
“You did so well,” he drawls, and I wish he were here.
“Ezra…” What do I say after that? Thank you? Come here so we can do it together?
“Are you sleepy?” he asks.
“Yes.” The events of the day and the massive orgasm have caught up with me.
“Get some rest. I’ll bring breakfast tomorrow,” he says, and now I want to hug him. I was on the verge of awkwardness. “What do you want?”
You. “You choose.” I pull my hand out of my clothes.
“Alright. I’ll call before I come.”
“Can we spend the day together?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
