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“Very original.”

“Leah,” I groaned, even though her toying attitude made my blood sing. “I need to know how to start so I can talk you through it.”

“Sure, but like—”

“Leah,” I growled, body buzzing with desire and frustration. “You called me to get off. Don’t give me instructions, then keep me from following them. Now if you’re wearing anything, take it off.”

“Hmm.” It sounded like she was about to argue with me again and I was going to chastise her, when she finally said, “I’m not wearing anything. I got out of the shower, laid out on my towel, and … called you.”

“Put the phone on speakerphone and rest it next to your pillow.” Once her shuffling settled, I continued, “Close your eyes and set your toy aside for now.”

She made a little huff, but as far as I could tell, followed my instructions.

“I didn’t really get the chance to explore you last time,” I murmured, stroking myself as I pictured her splayed out in front of me. It was a lot like my no-touching fantasy, but brighter. To a certain degree, I was ashamed I wanted her, especially since I wanted her in ways I couldn’t follow through on and she wasn’t interested in. But I was far from ashamed that I wanted to please her. It was too innate of a desire for shame.

“I think you hit all the highlights,” she murmured, voice soft as she relaxed into the conversations.

“But it was a rush tour. If I had another night with you, I’d take my time. Start with your tits, massage them in slow circles, knead out any tension around the sides before grazing over your nipples. Can you do that for me?”

Leah hummed and I held my breath to listen to every shuffle and sigh she made.

“Nice and slow, Leah. Don’t rush to the good part, I want you to work out any tension you’ve got.” She moaned on the other end of the line, breathing in little puffs as she massaged herself. I let that continue for a good while longer, my cock aching in my palm. But I didn’t stroke myself yet, at least not in earnest. I was too focused on Leah to care about my own pleasure.

“All right, go ahead and start tracing your nipples. Tell me how they feel.”

“Warm, raised,” she said, voice breathy. “And getting harder; like you, I hope.”

“Yeah.” I chuckled. “I’m rock hard, honey. Don’t you worry.”

“Mmm, honey, huh?”

The term of endearment had just slipped out, a subconscious reflection of the way she stuck in my head, the warmth and gooeyness I felt around her. But it was still a term partners used and that wasn’t us. “Sorry, it just—”

“If we're talking flavors, I’d say you’re honey and I’m cinnamon,” she said with a thoughtful hum.

“What—” I started to ask, but she cut me off with a different question.

“Are we spending so long on my tits because you’re a tits man?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m not sure I have a particularly strong preference. But …” I paused to let the words shuffle in my mind, not wanting another slip up to end this moment. “When you finally touch your pussy, I want you to be dripping down your thighs. That doesn’t happen without care.”

Leah’s breath hitched and the noise reverberated through my whole body.

“Pinch your nipples now.”

“Fuck,” she hissed. “Niall, I—fuck.”

“Yeah? Give ’em a little twist, just enough to feel that friction.” I let her enjoy that sensation for a bit, before moving to— “Now, lick the pads of your thumbs and stroke your nipples like it’s my tongue licking them.”

“Mmm, you did that real well last time.”

“How so?”

“The way you twisted your tongue, it felt so good. That tongue on my clit was magic.”

“We’ll get there. Just roll your nipples one more time for me.”

Leah moaned and I pictured her lifting her hips, desperate for direct relief.