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Grace
Later that evening
Sherry had left ten minutes ago, it was late, but here I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and holding my phone as I contemplated calling Lucian. He was probably asleep, and actually talking to him made me nervous.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about him. All I could imagine was being with him, having him hold me, kiss me … fuck me.
My breath started coming in faster pants, arousal licking across every part of me. I felt flushed, tempted to reach between my thighs and touch myself. This was ludicrous, but God, this all felt so incredible.
And then my phone rang.
My arousal instantly took a back seat, but as I lifted my cell and saw a number flash across the screen, the name Lucian in bold letters above that, all I could picture was him entering his number into my cell earlier today.
I licked my lips, that desire rising up almost violently once more. Should I answer? Let it go to voice mail?
No, I wanted to hear his voice. I needed to.
I hit the answer button and brought the phone to my ear. I tried to calm my breathing, but I had a feeling he’d be able to tell exactly what effect he had on me even if it was through the phone.
“Hello?” My voice was a little shaky, and I licked my lips and pushed myself up on the bed, leaning against the wall so my legs hung off the side.
“Grace.” He said my name so softly, his voice almost a husky growl. It was as if saying my name brought him immense pleasure. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
I shook my head, then realized he couldn’t see me. “No, I was awake.”And about to touch myself to the thought of you. I heard shuffling on the other end, almost as if he was moving against sheets. Was he in bed? I didn’t know why that surprised me. It was late. But then I thought about him lying in the bed where I had slept, his hard, lean body taking up a lot of the mattress, his sheer size making me feel so feminine and small.
“It’s late, but I needed to hear your voice, I needed to make sure you were okay after everything we’d discussed, after I told you how I felt.”
My entire body became hot, my arousal climbing even higher at just the sound of his voice. “I’m okay,” I whispered.
“Good.” He said that one word like his main concern was my well-being. That’s how I felt when he looked at me, when he said those very personal, life-changing things to me. “The last thing I want is for what I said to make you uncomfortable or afraid.”
“No, being afraid is the last thing I feel.” God, could he tell how thick my voice had become, that my desire was right there at the surface? I found myself lying back on the bed, staring at my ceiling again, thinking about how this would all play out.
“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” he said deeply, a sound that had my entire body becoming even more alive.
I started moving my legs back and forth against each other, my cheap cotton sheets seeming almost like silk as they slid against my skin. Every part of me felt on edge, ultrasensitive, and I knew if he was here, touching me, I would go off like a rocket.
“I’m not thinking of anything,” I said, my voice nothing more than a whisper.
“You’re lying.” His voice was dark … aroused.
Was that what I heard when he spoke, that dark purr laced within his voice that had me acting out of character as I slipped my hand down my stomach and played with the button of my pants? I was so wet, my panties becoming soaked as my desire rose.
“Tell me, Grace,” he demanded gently. “Tell me what you’re thinking about right now.”
I sucked in a breath, the way he spoke causing me to feel so much lust I couldn’t even think straight, couldn’t breathe. But what I did know was that I wanted to tell him exactly what I was thinking … exactly what I was doing. “I’m thinking about how all of this is kind of crazy and unbelievable, how my professor told me he wanted me and I don’t know how to think about all of that.”
“But how do you feel? How do I make you feel, Grace?”
My mouth was so dry. “You make me feel…” God, could I really say the words? “You make me feel alive.” There, they were out there.
“What else, baby?” He had a groan laced with those words, and the endearment had my clit tingling. I wanted to touch myself so bad. No, I wantedhimto touch me.
“You make me feel things I didn’t know I could feel. You make me feel arousal the likes of which makes me dizzy and breathless … makes me want to feel all the things, Lucian.” His name rolling off my tongue had me becoming wetter.
“That’s it, Grace.” I heard more shifting, more rustling of sheets. “Touch yourself, Grace. Let me know what you’re feeling, how it feels to have those fingers moving between your thighs, baby.” He groaned again, and I heard the sharp inhalation as he took a breath.
Was he touching himself, too? Was his hand wrapped around his dick right now? Was he stroking himself, thinking about me, jerking off to the thought of me with my fingers between my thighs?
