The urge to touch myself is strong… stronger than I've ever felt before.
It's not like he'd know,I reason with myself, slipping my hands beneath the waistband of my sleep shorts.
“Oh god,” I whimper, biting down on my lip.
The thought of him catching me turns me on as much as it mortifies me. Because, as embarrassing as it would be, my mind can’t help but run wild imagining all the different ways he could react.
Would he merely watch? Guide me? Touch himself? Or would he knock my hand away and take over?
I slide my index and middle fingers along my slit, gathering my arousal before pressing my fingers to my clit, working myself in small, fast circles.
Is he thinking of me right now, too? Is it fucked up that I hope he is?
My toes curl as my orgasm builds, closer and closer, until I hear his deep, guttural groan through the bathroom door.
Then it’s game over. Lights out. I shoot off like a bottle rocket in his bed, coming harder than I have in god knows how long.
“Oh my god.” How is it possible for my heart to be racing when my limbs feel like jelly?
Holy shit.I just masturbated in Ellis Wilder's bed. Momentarily, I wonder if spontaneous combustion is a real thing, and if so, can I burst into flames right the fuck now, please and thank you? Because one thing’s for certain... he can never, ever know.
I'm still catching my breath when Ellis strolls back into the room with a white towel slung low around his hips. His still-wet hair is combed back, highlighting the strong contours of his stupidly handsome face. It pisses me off he looks so good fresh out of the shower. I’m usually red and splotchy, thanks to my need for scalding hot water.
“Don't you look cozy.” He leans against the doorframe and raises a brow.
No mirror needed, I’m sure my cheeks are as pink as my freshly pedicured toenails. “What?”
He smirks and straightens, standing to his full height. “If you want to shower, get in there. I’d like to get a head start on the day.”
“What does that even mean?” I sit up and tug his overstuffed duvet closer.
“For starters, we need to file another police report. Which means we need to go back to your apartment and?—”
I cut him off. “You don’t have to come with me to do that.”
“Me going with is non-negotiable.”
“Oh.” I smooth the blanket down around me.
“So get ready and meet me in the kitchen for breakfast.”
“Breakfast?” Everything he’s saying makes sense, but my brain can’t seem to actually process it. Aftereffects of my solo orgasm, I’m sure.
“Yes, Princess. Haven’t you heard, it’s the most important meal of the day.”
“Sure, okay.” I nod. “I have heard that.”
He snorts but doesn’t say anything else.
I wait for him to step into his closet before kicking off the covers and darting into the bathroom. A small part of me thinks he knows exactly what happened in his bed while he showered, but I force that particular worry from my mind as I fly through getting ready.
Throwing my hair up into a bun, I take a quick shower, before dry shampooing my hair. I don't skimp on my skincare, though.
Once I'm finished in the bathroom, I dress in a pair of yoga shorts and a racerback tank before popping my birth control pill into my mouth and swallowing it dry.
I go to grab my phone to mark that I took it, but it’s missing.
“Have you seen my phone?” I ask as I enter the kitchen.
