Page 108 of Sorrow & Strangers

Unknown

Good girl. And I know someone woke up wet.

Waving my hand, I pull up the surveillance spell of her bedroom in time to catch her squeezing her thighs together tightly before she angrily types back on her phone. She’s yanking herself back into the world where we don’t have a connection, allowing the dream to fade from her mind.

Summer

Dry as a bone, asshole.

Little liar.

Unknown

Careful, brat, or I’ll come check for myself.

Her legs twist under the covers, and she lets out a soft, almost inaudible moan. She tosses her phone to the side and falls back onto the bed. I groan and rub my cock through my sweats, watching as she tosses and turns, my lips twitching as she tries to resist. She curses and slides her hand beneath the sheets, moaning as she touches her clit.

Nice try.

With barely a thought, I am hovering over her. I grab her hands and settle my body against hers. She pants, looking up at me half in surprise and half in invitation. I bring the hand she had between her legs to my lips, pinning the other to the bed above her head. Dropping the avatar to just a glamour around the lower part of my face, I suck her fingers into my mouth, savoring the lingering sweetness of her cunt.

I nip the pads of her fingers before fixing the avatar around my mouth. “You are not allowed to touch the pussy I made all nice and wet,” I scold gently.

“You can’t be here,” she says, struggling in my hold.

I press more of my weight onto her, easily keeping her pinned. Adjusting my hold, I grip both wrists with one hand, keeping her arms stretched above her head.

“Can’t I?” I ask, shifting my free hand to her throat, brushing my fingers over her fluttering pulse.

“No,” she pants, her eyes black as pitch.

“Why?” I purr, leaning down to let my mouth hover above hers, mocking her even as I feel her pulse jump beneath my fingers. Heartbeats don’t lie.

“Because I don’t want you,” she moans, shivering.

Too easy.

“Liar.”

“You’re not what made me wet,” she says, obviously frantically searching for lies to get me to leave. That one was definitely a reach for her.

I chuckle. “Is that right?”

“Yes.” She struggles against my hold again.

“Why don’t I check . . .” I say, sliding my hand down her body, teasing her.

“Stop,” she says, twisting beneath me, trying to get my hand off her.

“Admit it.” To yourself and me. “And I will.”

I won’t.

“Admit what?”

My fingers tease at the edge of her panties. “What made you wet?”

She continues to writhe, trying to throw me off, refusing to admit the truth. I am braced for it, but she doesn’t use her power, and I wonder if she even realizes that herself. I tease my fingers between her legs, keeping my touch feather-light over the soaked fabric of her panties. It’s nowhere near the pressure I know she needs.