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I backed myself to the wall at the fantasy of both of us being too eager to wait.
He’d press into my body again, him dressed, me half-stripped down. Would he be gentle? God, I hoped not.
I swore I could feel his hungry kisses, devouring me. Gliding down my neck. Alternating with playful nips and the occasional hard bite. Sucking on my nipples until I squirmed at the attention.
In my mind, we fumbled with each other’s zipper, not wanting to break away from the kissing and exploration to give the task proper attention. In reality, I’d have to undo my own jeans.
When I wrapped my fingers around his shaft, his groan echoed in my ear. It was the kind of sound that said, I’m tired of ignoring this.
He’d shove my bottoms down as far as possible without breaking any other contact, and dip his fingers between my legs.
I mimicked the motion, and my body jerked at the new touch. I’d prefer his hand, but wrapped in fantasy, mine would do. I was already wet and slick, thanks to a night of better-than-should-be-allowed making out.
In my head, we were impatient. There was no more time for seduction. I stroked along my slit, dipping near my opening and then away, the way I wanted him to. My senses were screaming for relief, and my breath came in short gasps.
I honed in on my clit, sliding my fingers on either side and stroking. Orgasm built inside but didn’t grant me relief.
Was I whimpering out loud?
I worked myself harder. Faster. The images in my head bled into the physical, until everything was a blur, except the sharp, disparate focus of my need.
Come for me, Anne. I swore I heard his voice in my ear and felt the playful sting of teeth biting the lobe.
Climax spilled through me, yanking a cry from my throat and shuddering over me.
I kept up the frantic self-attention until I was too sensitive and jerking away from my own touch.
Another gasp escaped when I rested fully against the wall. My legs were wobbly. I bet they’d be more so if Luke was here.
I sank to the ground, and the cold entryway tile bit into my ass.
I’d never dared entertain these thoughts before. Not consciously. Sure, my dreams betrayed me sometimes, and Luke visited me in them. But letting myself think about being with him gave the idea more shape and weight than it should have.
Heat still flooded me. I’d linger in the afterglow a little longer.
And hope post-coital bliss numbed the pit in my heart that reminded me this could only ever be a dream.
