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“That’s absolutely right, princess. Now slide your hand into your panties, and tell me how wet you are.”
“I’m soaked,” I whisper. “Are you hard, too?”
“I’m getting there,” he assures me, and I want desperately to ask him to send me a picture, but I don’t dare. He’d probably laugh at me, or come to my senses, and I don’t want that to happen. I’m turned on all over again, aching to experience this with him, and I lick my lips nervously as I wait for his next words to float to me.
“Ah,” he groans. “There, I’m rock hard now.” I hear the rustling of blankets, and the sound of flesh on flesh. “Mm, it is better, knowing you’re doing it too. Are you rubbing your clit, Saoirse?”
“Yes,” I whisper, my fingers starting to move of their own accord as I do exactly that.
“Good girl. You can’t come until I tell you. I don’t want you orgasming until I’m ready to come for you, too.” His voice is thick, hot, and I can tell that he’s very drunk—as drunk as I am, probably.
I wonder if he’ll remember this in the morning. I wonder if he’ll regret it.
I don’t know if I want him to remember or not.
“Slide two fingers inside for me, princess. Are you doing it now?”
I reach down, slipping two fingers inside my pussy as I rub the heel of my hand against my clit, feeling the pulse of it, the way I tighten. “Yes.”
“That’ll be my cock very soon,” Connor groans, and I hear the sound of him stroking faster now. “But I’ll fill you up so much more. It’ll feel so good for you, I promise. I’ll make it good for you—” he moans, and I gasp, biting my lip hard against my own whimpers as I thrust my fingers inside, imagining it’s him.
“Go back to rubbing your clit for me, princess. Tell me how it feels.”
“Wet—and hot—and good—” Words are starting to escape me, my arousal flooding out and coating my fingers, my muscles tightening as I get closer to an orgasm. “I want to come, Connor, please—I’m close—”
“Not yet,” he bites out. “God, I want your mouth right now, Saoirse. I want you to swallow my cum,fuck—”
“Please,” I whimper into the phone, keeping my voice to a hushed whisper. “Please let me come.”
“When I do.Fuck,I’m close too, hold on just a second, princess and we’ll come together—”
I used to hate him calling me that, but in my drunken haze, overwhelmed with need and hearing him rasp it between the fleshy strokes of his hand on his cock, it sounds hotter than I could have ever imagined. “Please come for me, Connor, please,” I moan, arching my back as I keep rubbing lightly, trying not to go over the edge. “Please, I need it—”
“Yes! Fuck,Saoirse—” he growls out my name. “Now! Come for me now, I’m coming—”
I hear him grunt on the other end of the phone, hear the moan as he starts to come, and I throw my head back, arching against the wall as I squirm with my hand tight between my thighs, rubbing and grinding as I come for the second time, my hand and thighs and panties soaked with my arousal as I hear the sounds of Connor orgasming too.
He’s breathless as I hear the rustling of the bed, his soft groans as the orgasm tapers off, and I feel the last shudders going through me too. “Connor?” I whisper softly.
“That’s enough, Saoirse,” he says, and there’s an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before. “Get some sleep. You shouldn’t still be up.”
“Are you giving me a bedtime?” There’s an acid touch to my tone too that wasn’t there before.
“Be careful that I don’t. Goodnight, Saoirse.” There’s still the drunken slur, but a crispness too, the blunt Connor that I’m more used to.
It hurts, because I know it’s the clarity that follows climax, and that he’s wishing he hadn’t let it go that far.
Niall was worried I’d regret our conversation, and Connor is already regretting this one.
Fuck.
“Goodnight,” I mumble into the phone, but it’s already clicked off.
I fight back hot, drunken tears as I fix my clothing, leaving the champagne bottle and glass on the table as I make my way back to my bed. I don’t bother stripping out of my clothes, pulling the throw blanket over me as I curl atop the duvet, letting out small hiccupping sobs as I let exhaustion overtake me.
I don’t remember falling asleep. When I wake up, the entire night comes back to me in stark clarity, along with a raging headache. I reach for my phone, my heart beating fast as I wonder if I dreamed it, but when I look at my texts from Niall, it’sveryclear that I didn’t.
There on my phone, along with all the dirty messages, is the picture of his cock, his hand streaked with his cum.
