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"You have a unique view of the world," she informs me as politely as possible. I never understood why people didn't get my point of view on this. It makes perfect sense.
"If I had a nickel every time I heard that from my family. They were more direct though. I believed they use the word ‘crazy,’ and sometimes ‘twisted.’"
"I can’t imagine why. I'm sure I'll have some nightmares tonight. That'll be a change in dreams."
Something in the way she says “dreams,” as if it's a dirty secret, shoots adrenaline through my veins. I rise from the couch, stretching my legs before heading toward the bed, shrugging off the jacket of my suit and kicking off my shoes on the way.
"Did you have dirty dreams?"
She gasps lightly, and I imagine her covering her mouth. "How do you know?"
"You whispered the word."
"Oh."
"Are you alone?"
"Yes. I'm in my room."
"Tell me your dreams."
"Um… well, we were in a room, and you were doing wicked things to me."
I cling to her words like a desperate man, her silence feeling like a punishment.
"With my fingers? My mouth? My cock?"
Lying on my back on the cold bed, I imagine her blushing, getting turned on.
"All of them," she whispers. "And you were really good."
I close my eyes, imagining I'm next to her right this minute, only inches away from her soft skin. The things I'd do to her if she were within my reach. Wicked wouldn't even come close to describing it.
"I want to kiss you right now," I say. "I’d start with your mouth, continue with your neck. You have that sweet spot, right above the collarbone. I want to lick you there."
"Christopher!"
Her voice is a little hushed, a lot aroused. Energy strums through me, and my pants tighten uncomfortably.
"Touch yourself, Victoria. I want to hear you. I need this."
"I need it too. I… oh!"
A white-hot current jolts through me. In a flash of a second, I undo my belt, push my shirt up, and lower my hand into my pants.
"Are you wet?" I ask, gripping my erection tightly. I imagine touching her breasts, worshiping them the way they deserve.
"Yes," she pants, letting out small delicious moans. I increase the pressure with my hand, imagining it's her mouth. Just visualizing those pink, plump lips around my crown, I almost blow.
"Imagine my tongue where your fingers are."
Her sharp exhale travels straight to my groin. I increase the rhythm of my strokes, listening to her moans growing more desperate. In my mind, I worship every inch of her body, learning what she loves and what makes her come apart. But I'm too far gone to be able to coherently tease her. When I imagine sinking into her, I nearly explode. Warm and soft, she'd fit me to perfection.
&
nbsp; "Fuck, Victoria. I want you."
Her response? A low primal groan that sends a white-hot flash from my base right to the crown. I inhale deeply, aware that every vein in my body is catching fire. Pacing myself, I loosen my grip a notch, wanting to wait so she finishes first.
