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She’s back to laughing as she saunters away.
This is going to be a very long fucking night.
I’m sitting on a chair in Abby’s room, naked, with my dick in hand, slowly stroking. My other hand is gripping the arm of the chair to keep me rooted down so I don’t spring forward to the tempting sight before me. Abby is sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, legs spread wide, with two fingers shoved in her gleaming wet pussy, while her thumb rubs her clit. The look she has in her hooded eyes as she watches me is downright dirty and carnal. I know mine carry the same look. She’s pinching one of her nipples and every few minutes, she licks her lips. Her blonde hair is swept up on top of her head, and I can see a fine sheen of sweat covering her skin. I swear, every time I see her she becomes even sexier than the last time, and it’s taking every bit of strength I have not to jump her right now.
She’s my greatest temptation and my strongest weakness.
“How close are you, Abby?” I can barely get the words out through my dry throat.
My balls have drawn up, and I’ve been ready to explode for the past five minutes. It’s a beautiful kind of torture, because I want to watch her all night as she plays with her pretty pussy, but I also know I’ll go out of my fucking mind if I have to watch much longer. I’m holding off my own orgasm by pure force of will, because there is no way in hell I’m finding my release before she finds hers.
She licks her fucking lips again, and the wood beneath the arm of the chair creaks as my grip tightens. I swear she has to be doing this shit on purpose. She has to know how close to the edge I am. She even has an evil gleam in her eyes now. And she still hasn’t answered my damn question.
On my upward stroke, my thumb grazes the underside of the head of my cock, and I give a deep groan, just barely holding onto the edge by a hair.
“Abby,” I growl. “How fucking close are you?”
Instead of answering me, she fucking pulls her fingers from her pussy and puts them to her lips, slowly slipping them inside with a damn smirk on her face.
Yeah, the tease knows just what she’s doing. And she obviously wants me to lose it before she does. What I don’t know is if she’s wanting me to give in and pounce on her, something I refuse to do even if it kills me, or just give in and have my orgasm before her.
“Fucking hell,” I groan, unable to hold back any longer. My ab muscles tighten and my jaw clenches as my release lands on my stomach.
As soon as my orgasm hits, Abby’s hand goes back to her pussy and she pushes in three fingers with one hand and attacks her clit with the other. It’s literally seconds later and she’s shouting out her own release. I will never, even if we were given a thousand years together, get enough of seeing her face when she hits the crescendo of her orgasm. She looks beautiful all the time, but when she’s reaching her peak, nothing beats the utter bliss she carries on her face.
I grab my shirt from the floor and quickly wipe off my stomach and hand. I’ll take a shower later. Right now, the need to hold her is something that won’t be ignored.
Instead of crawling into bed and snuggling up behind her, I crawl between her legs and rest my head against her chest, right on her breasts. The thump thump of her rapid heartbeat meets my ears. Her legs go around my waist and her hands go to my hair, while I wrap my arms around her between the mattress and her back. We lay that way for several minutes.
“Do you think it’ll work?” she asks quietly, running her fingers through my hair.
I kiss the skin between her breasts, before resting a hand there and putting my chin on top so I can look up at her.
“I don’t know, but I think it’s worth a try. We’ve had success so far.”
Fortunately, our experiment a week ago once again only left her with mild cramps. We were able to go all night without having to have sex, which was a double edged sword because we both wanted to have sex, but had to hold off to see if it actually worked. It was a struggle that was damn near too hard.
We’re taking a big chance with this one though. Abby’s tried self-induced orgasms in the past with no luck, but it was still something I wanted to try. She was reluctant at first because of her past experiences with it, but she finally gave in. I’ll be here all night, so if it doesn’t work, I can take care of her needs the traditional way.
Abby smiles down at me and the world around us brightens. My fucking heart flutters and my arms tighten around her. Abby’s addiction may be sex, and I’m fine with that, because I know in my heart that she’ll never stray, even if there is a time I can’t be with her. Her heart belongs to me and mine belongs to her. When two people love each other as deeply as we do, there’s no force on earth that can tear that apart.
Chapter Eighteen
Abby
I nervously chew my thumbnail as I stand at my door and watch my mom, dad, and sister get out of their car. Firm arms wrap around me from behind and pulls me back against a hard chest. Colt’s warmth settles some of the nerves wracking my body, but doesn’t completely diminish them. My eyes flicker down to the small bump of my sister’s stomach. Love and longing has my stomach clenching.
“Everything is going to be okay,” Colt murmurs in my ear.
The rational part of my brain knows this. It’s the irrational part, the part that still carries scars from years of being taunted and degraded for my abnormal sexual practices that’s leaving me scared. It’s been three months since Colt and I got back together. We’ve had several conversations about me telling my parents about my addiction and the reasons behind it. I’ve also talked with my doctor. They both feel it may help with my healing. I want so much to be closer with my family, to come clean with them, and I know deep down they will understand, but it still worries me that they’ll look at me differently.
Colt grabs the hand that’s steadily trying to eat away at my nail and places it over my stomach, where his rests on top of it.
“Relax, Abby. Your family loves you.”
I nod and blow out a breath. He’s talked with my mom and dad over the phone on a couple different occasions. I did tell them I met someone and they were happy for me. The next step is telling them the rest.
Tears spring to my eyes when I see my mom looking at me with tears of her own sliding down her face. It’s been a year and a half since I’ve seen her. It may seem weird for some for us to look so sad while facing each other only after a year and a half, but we both know this visit will be different. I’ve told her that I’m ready to tell them my secrets. She knows I haven’t been truthful with her, and the relief she couldn’t hide over the phone when I told her I was ready to come clean gutted me.
