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She’d done this hundreds of times and knew exactly how to touch herself to feel best according to her mood, whether she was looking for something actually erotic or was just trying to get a quick orgasm so she could sleep, but touching herself had never felt quite this amazing before. Zach’s hungry gaze was almost as intense as a touch.
When playing with her own breasts had her squirming and gasping, and Zach groaning and grunting, Lyra released one and ... slowly ... skimmed over her ribs, her belly, lower ...
“I want to see, baby,” Zach urged. “Let me see.”
By now, Lyra was fully invested in this play, and she didn’t hesitate to shift on the bed and spread her legs so her laptop was between them.
“God, fuck. You’reshaved.” He said it like a prayer.
Feeling sexier than she ever had in her life, Lyra slid her fingers over her clit, between her folds.
“Show me,” Zach groaned. “Show me, show me, show me.” His voice was becoming strained. Lyra looked and saw his arm flexing faster, with urgency.
Understanding, she hoped, what he wanted, she let her other breast go and put both hands between her legs, spreading herself wide.
“Look how wet you are. Fuck, my mouth is watering. I want to taste you, Ly. I want my mouth right there, drinking you in. Fuck ... oh ...fuck.”
Fascinated, Lyra paused and watch Zach come. She could see tendons rising like rods along the sides of his neck, stretching down into his chest, along his shoulders. His eyes were clamped shut and his face frozen in an agonized rictus. His body went taut, the spasm lifting his shoulders off the bed, and he hovered like that for several seconds. Then, like someone had flipped his switch, he collapsed back to the mattress and pillows and lay there, loose and languid, panting.
That was hot as hell. Wow.
Lyra was on fire, nearly desperate to join him, but she lay quietly, touching herself almost absently, and waited for Zach to recover and want to watch again.
He roused and then turned to his side suddenly. She watched the muscles of his back—the word BULLS was inked down his spine, the letters stacked on each other—as he did something out of frame. When he lay back again, he had a towel in his hands. Oh, right.
At last he was settled again, still painting, a little sweaty, and grinning sheepishly. “Sorry I couldn’t hold off. This is fucking hot, babe.Youare fucking hot.”
He’d called her babe or baby a few times tonight. That was new. But it felt right. Like tonight they’d taken a long stride out of that strange flirty-friend place and into a relationship.
Maybe. She didn’t want to let herself get too far ahead here, though.
“Can I still watch you finish?” he asked, as if she’d deny him as punishment for finishing before her.
Lyra answered with a smile. She spread herself wide again and showed him exactly how she liked to be touched. Cycles of light touch and rough, circles and flicks, directly on her clit and in the tender space around it, until she couldn’t hold still or be quiet, until she was begging herself, in Zach’s name, for release, until Brutus sat up at the side of the bed, wondering what was going on.
All the while, Zach’s wonderful deep voice, rough with passion, urged her on.
When she came, her spasms lasted a long time and their intensity almost made her cry. Every muscle in her core throbbed heavily as she began to come back down and settle into calm. By far the most intense orgasm she’d ever had.
Finally, she opened her eyes again.
Zach had shifted on his bed. His head filled the screen like he’d been trying to come through it and join her. His expression was one of perfect, undiluted focus. As if he meant to memorize every second.
Then he saw her looking, and he grinned.
“Well, fuck, baby. That wasincredible.”
Pleasure heated her face like a furnace. “Yeah, it was.” She picked up her laptop and resituated herself so she was lying on her belly and her head filled his screen as well.
“When I get back to Laughlin, I am gonna grab you and kiss you dizzy. Then I’m gonna carry you off somewhere to do this in person. This and so much more. You okay with that?”
It might make her father stroke out, but that was a Pop problem. Possibly also a Zach problem. “Very. But ... Zach?”
“Yeah, babe?”
There was that word again. “Are we ... are wetogether?” Lyra felt far more awkward asking that question than she had rubbing herself off for him. What if he was just playing around?
She was not. She was tumbling end over end for this guy, so probably she should have worked out his feelings before the super-intense mutual masturbation FaceTiming.
