Page 109 of The Sweetest Return

“I want you to feel it, Mani.”

My fingers pressed harder, circling my swollen clit, the ring catching beneath my touch, my pussy wet enough that every stroke sounded faintly obscene under the quiet of the hotel room. I should have been embarrassed.

I wasn’t.

Not with him.

“That’s it,” he said, voice rough now. “Nice and soft. Just like that.”

I exploded with my eyes closed and my lips parted around a sound I barely let out. Pleasure rolled through me slowly, deep and warm, my hips lifting into my hand while my nipples tightened hard beneath the sheet. My whole body seemed to pulse at once, breasts, clit, pussy, skin, every part of me alive and answering the man on the other end of the phone.

Dre stayed quiet while it happened. No teasing. No victory lap. Just his breathing low and careful on the other end of the phone, keeping me company while I fell apart.

When it passed, I lay there staring at nothing, chest rising and falling beneath the sheet, my fingers still warm and slick between my thighs.

My face was hot. My body was loose. My pride had left the room somewhere around him remembering my tank top, and honestly, I didn’t expect it back soon. But underneath the embarrassment was something softer, harder to laugh off. Dre had not touched me, not really, and somehow I still felt handled by him. Known by him. Taken care of in a way that made no sense and perfect sense at the same time.

He had talked me back into a memory, followed my body into the present, and stayed with me while pleasure moved through me like he understood what happened afterward too.

That was the part that caught in my throat.

The care.

“You okay?” he asked.

My eyes closed because that almost made them sting. No joke. No smug little comment about what he had done to me. Just the question.

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

A breath moved through the phone. “Good.”

I swallowed and pulled the sheet higher, not because I was cold but because I suddenly felt tender in a way nakedness had nothing to do with.

“You did that on purpose,” I said.

“Yeah.”

“At least you’re honest.”

“I needed you to stop worrying about my knee.”

A laugh slipped out of me, soft and uneven. “So your solution was making me cum before breakfast?”

His silence lasted half a second too long.

Then his voice dropped. “It worked.”

My thighs pressed together again. “Dre.”

“I’m not teasing you.”

“You absolutely are.”

“Nah.” His tone stayed warm, but something serious moved beneath it. “If I was teasing you, you’d know. I’m saying it worked because you let me take care of you for a minute.”