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I mean, Icanorgasm. Give me the Clit-Stim 3000 that Fran got me and these days, I’ll float off into outer space within three minutes flat. And then again five minutes later. Showerheads will do it. That new sucky rose thing that Fran told me to get can give me an orgasm so strong that I’m fantasizing about marrying it for days afterwards.
I just can’t come with men. I’ve never been able to, even when they would go down on me.
I don’t know if it’s because I tense up or, if as Rami says, the men I’ve been with should be imprisoned for sexual incompetence, but whatever the reason, I’m just… deficient in that department.
It doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy sex. I do. Or at least, I did once. I just don’t come during it—that part I take care of when I’m alone.
“You can come on your own?” he asks, and I wonder why that sinkhole I keep fantasizing about is never around when you need it.
“Yes.”
“Then the problem isn’t that youcan’t. It’s that the men you’ve been with are incompetent fools.I’mnot,” he spits out, and frankly, I feel like I could orgasm just at the vibration of his deviant words through my neck. “Now… do I stop or not?”
“You won’t do anyth—”
“Let me make it very clear to you one final time. I may, if you’ve been a good little girl, give you access to my cock the day you drop to your knees in front of me with your mouth open… and beg for it. Notoneday sooner.”
My eyes close tightly as I inhale a sharp breath.
“You’re not just going to submit to me, Indigo. You’re going tobegfor me.”
Oh my God…
“You’re going to show me which little hole of yours you want me to fuck first, and then plead with me to put you out of your misery.”
“Grey,” I whimper, my sex clenching.
“Now… do I stop?”
“No,” I reply, my clit pulsating in warm waves which spread throughout my torso. “Don’t stop.”
“Sayplease, Indigo.”
“Please don’t stop.”
“Good girl.” I keep my eyes tightly closed as his fingers delve all the way over my pubis and sink into a pool of juice hiding from him inside my panties.
He releases a rough groan at the slip of it against his fingertips and begins to slide his middle finger up and down the velvety folds of my pussy.
“You’re as wet as I am hard,” he whispers into my ear as I take in the sensation of the rock-hard cock, still resting on the curve of my ass. “I think that despite the attitude you give me, you have a greedy little pussy, Indigo. Don’t you?”
“Yes,” I whimper, barely able to even believe the conversation I’m currently having.
“Why are you so wet? Who does this to you?”
“You do,” I whisper after a moment, stopping myself from adding a perfunctoryassholein response to his self-evident questions.
“Good.” He trails his finger upwards towards my clit which he presses into, gliding the pad back and forth and around in circles as I pant my arousal. “I want to hear your pleasure, Indigo. Don’t hold back.”
“What if someone hears?”
“Then they hear. I’m here to protect you.”
I eject a breathy moan as his fingers delve lower, finding the entrance to my pussy which he stimulates by making circles around the opening before pushing inside, just a tiny bit.
I contemplate asking him to stop, but apart from the fact that I’m so turned on, my entire will to live has relocated south to my pussy, I wonder if I’ll ever again find myself on an enclosed balcony with a man like Greyson Everitt seemingly determined to make me climax, and, without knowing it, to take away the heinous crawling contamination of someone else that I still feel inside me.
He curves his finger underneath me and pushes in a little deeper and suddenly a second finger edges into the swollen wet entrance to me, easing its way in.
