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“Yeah.”
“Can I see your work?”
Sem unbuttons the first button of my top and then the second. “You can see the one I draw today. How ‘bout that?”
I pretend to mull it over because I can’t seem that excited. No one’s ever wanted to draw me before...makes me feel special.
“Okay, fine. Where do you want me?”
Sem gestures to the bed. “Here.”
I start to sit, but Sem stops me. “Nah. I want you naked.”
He unbuttons the rest of my shirt and pushes it from my shoulders. It falls onto the mattress, and he runs a finger across my left nipple, and I force myself not to tremble. Jesus, but it’s hard. His rough hands on me feel good. Why didn’t I ever let him touch me before?
Oh, that’s right, because it was just a game before.
It doesn’t feel like that to me anymore.
He tugs my shorts off and then my underwear, and I’m left standing naked in front of him. My half-hard cock bobs in front of his face, and I have to look away. It’s too much, seeing him on his knees.
“How do you want me?” I ask, and he swallows, standing up.
“On your back.”
“K,” I whisper and then lie down.
Sem stares at me for a moment before he turns around, reaches into a cabinet, and pulls out a piece of paper and charcoal pencil.
“You have to stay still for a while. Can you do that?”
I bite my bottom lip and nod. “Yeah. I can do that. I won’t move a muscle.”
But it’s harder than I thought. Lying here. Watching him. Those fingers flying across the paper, smudging it. His eyes flicking over my body, the lines on his forehead wrinkling with concentration. A smudge of black has appeared on his cheek, and I want to lick it off. Sem has always been hot, but he’s complete and utter sex right now.
I move my hand and tug on my hard cock, and Sem’s eyes flash to it.
“Stop it,” he grumbles and continues to sketch, but I can’t help it. I run my hand over my cock again, and Sem’s pencil screeches to a stop.
“I’m warning you,” he says, his eyes meeting mine.
“I can’t help it,” I breathe. “Watching you watch me is making me horny.”
Sem reaches out and grabs onto my hand, pulling it away from my straining dick and holding it to the mattress. So, I just use my other one. That’s why God gave us two, right?
Sem huffs, and then my other hand is pressed to the mattress, and Sem is straddling me.
“You’re a bad listener, Maggie. You keep squirming. Why are you so wiggly?” he mutters, and I arch my hips, trying to get some friction on it.
“Goddammit,” I mutter when my efforts end in vain.
“I’m almost done, and you can’t keep it together?” he says, and I hump the air again.
“Too long,” I whine, and Sem watches me for a moment before his hands are suddenly digging into my sides.
Oh shit.
I hate being tickled.
