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“You sound really fucking sexy right now, and I want to hear every filthy sound that pretty mouth makes, okay?”
“How do you know it’s pretty? How do you know my pussy is pretty?”
“Has to be. With a mind like yours, and a voice like yours, it’s the only logical deduction, Sandy. You have a mirror close by?”
I glanced up, at the mirror on the wall. “Yeah, but…”
“Take your panties off. Take everything off.”
“But I’m holding the phone.”
“Put in your earbuds.”
No room for question. No room for rebuttal.
I did what he said.
“Can you see yourself?”
“Not completely.”
“Then get where you can.”
Taking the phone with me, I moved to the front corner of the bed. From there, at that angle, I could see myself. But I didn’t want to. Why would I, when my own husband didn’t either?
“Open your legs, Sandy. Watch the way you look when your fingers sink in. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
I averted my gaze instead. “Um… yeah, I guess.”
“Wrong answer. You must not be looking.”
“I was.”
“Then you’re using the wrong set of eyes. So… close them. And just play.”
Again, I did as I was told. Shutting my eyes allowed me to go back to the place I was in before, of feeling without thought. After a few minutes, he demanded I open my eyes, and this time…
Whoa.
“I’m guessing you see it now,” came that warm rumble in my ear again, rife with amusement. “I bet you look so fucking good right now.”
“I…do,” I responded, sounding surprised even to my own ears. In the dim lamplight, my skin was like burnished gold, my bright blue manicured nails like sapphire as I played with my nipple with one hand, and stroked myself with the other. The hair I’d seen as disheveled read as sexy now – wild and free around my shoulders, the honey blonde at the ends making it resemble a lion’s mane. The thick, curvy body that Kellen viewed with such disdain? Lush, and comfortable.
“Good,” Wick crooned into my ear. “Now put those fingers between yourotherpretty lips, and tell me how you taste.”
It was like he had me on puppet strings. There were no first, or second thoughts, just my fingers in mouth, tasting my own arousal.
“Like ecstasy.”
“Yes,” he growled. “That’s what I want to hear. Get those fingers wet, and play with your clit. You’re already playing with your nipples?”
“Yes.”
“Pinch harder. Play harder. Make yourself cum. I want to hear it.”
I let him.
By the time he gave me those instructions, my body was already humming, and that was just the permission I needed to push myself over the edge. With Wick’s voice in my ear – grunts and groans that gave me fair certainty I wasn’t the only one chasing an orgasm – I worked myself into a climax that snatched the breath from my lungs, leaving me panting as I collapsed back on the bed, thighs clenched tight, with my hand still between my legs.
