14. Gemma
Chapter 14
Gemma
Sasha: On the ground in Atlanta. You make it home okay after work?
Was this a thing now? Him checking up on me?
Sure, the sex was . . . I didn’t even have words for it because how did you describe having your soul ripped violently from your body on repeat?
But I realized when we laid down for his afternoon nap that I was getting too comfortable.
Hadn’t I learned this lesson already? That trusting what seemed like a “decent” guy could land me in a world of trouble? I was just digging myself out of the hole Joey had left me stranded in. I couldn’t afford to let history repeat itself.
He makes millions of dollars a year. He doesn’t need to steal from you or sell drugs.
I shook that thought away.
My whole life, I’d been under the thumb of men, seen as nothing more than a possession. It was finally my time to live my life how I wanted.
Sasha wanted babies and a future. At least, that’s what he’d said.
I wasn’t sure what I wanted. Other than my freedom.
Locked in a cage for most of my life, that had become my only focus. There wasn’t room for any other dreams. Now, I was faced with endless possibilities, and it was almost overwhelming. I had choices for the first time and didn’t know where to start.
But I knew one thing for sure: tying myself to another man wasn’t in line with the freedom I sought.
Staring at my phone, I debated whether I should respond at all. If I did, it would only encourage him.
Yeah, because putting out on the first date and then letting him come over for an afternoon cuddle session didn’t do that already.
Fuck it.
Yeah. Just got in. Busy night.
I set my phone down on the nightstand, willing myself to put him out of my mind. I was a mafia princess, not a fairytale one. We didn’t get happy endings. We were lucky enough to survive.
I made it two steps toward the bathroom to shower off the bar when the vibration of an incoming text against the wood sounded.
Curiosity won out, and I backtracked, grabbing the phone to peek at the screen.
Sasha: I miss you. Send me a selfie.
Was he serious right now?
It was two in the morning. I’d just finished a seven-hour shift tending bar. He wouldn’t be able to smell the stale beer stink on me, but my hair and makeup were a hot mess.
I’m tired. Really want to shower and go to bed.
There. Maybe he’d take the hint.
Yeah, because that’s his strong suit.
Sasha: Please, baby? I just need to see your face.
Did it make me insane for indulging him? Probably. But I couldn’t do this all night. The sooner I placated him, the sooner I could shower and slip into bed.
Sighing, I flipped my phone’s camera to the front screen, snapped a quick selfie of my tired, exhausted face, and hit send.
Sasha: There she is. *heart eyes emoji*
Rolling my eyes, I tossed the phone on the bed. Stripping down on my way to the bathroom, I turned on the hot water in the shower and let the steam surround me for a minute before getting in. Warmth cascaded over my skin, and I leaned against the wall, letting the steady flow ease the stiff muscles of my back. My eyes closed in bliss, but I jolted when my shoulder dislodged, and I realized I was falling asleep standing.
Making quick work of washing my hair and soaping down the rest of my body, I turned off the water before grabbing a towel and drying off. I was running a comb through my tangled, wet hair when my phone buzzed again.
Lord. What now?
Blowing out a breath, I decided it might be best to put my phone on do-not-disturb mode for the rest of the night. That way, he could message me to his heart’s content, and I wouldn’t see it until morning.
But when I flipped it over to engage that setting, I frowned at the text awaiting me.
Sasha: Tag. You’re it. *Video Attachment*
“What in the world?”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, still wrapped in a towel, I pressed play on the video he sent.
The sound of smacking flesh registered before my eyes processed what I was seeing.
“Oh, Gemma. You feel so fucking good, baby.” The moaned words had me gasping as both hands flew to my face, and the phone clattered to the floor, landing facedown.
Did he? No, he couldn’t have.
“Just like that. You know how I like it.” Sasha’s voice floated up at me from the discarded electronic.
Oh my God. He did!
He sent me a video of himself jerking off!
The noises got louder, grunts and groans intermixed with murmured words as he drew closer to climax.
I didn’t know what possessed me, but I found myself reaching down to scoop up the phone, not wanting to miss the show.
Flipping the screen, I finally took a good look at the man sprawled out in bed in what appeared to be a hotel room, using his hand to pleasure himself, my name on his lips. The camera must’ve been propped up on a lamp on the bedside table, the angle showing Sasha from the shoulders down.
I couldn’t deny he was a gorgeous specimen. Golden skin stretched over defined muscles from head to toe. Tattooed forearm rippling with the effort to work his cock.
Oh, God. That cock.
My thighs pressed together at the memory of it between them, driving impossibly deep before taking me to heights I’d thought didn’t exist. My mouth filled with saliva, the taste of him still ghosting over my tongue.
The man was making me lose all sense of reason. Never in my life had I allowed a man to come inside me, pussy or mouth, yet in the past twenty-four hours, I’d granted him the pleasure of both.
I was losing my goddamn mind.
“Fuck, baby. I’m gonna come.”
Biting my lip, I had the best seat in the house when his strokes increased in pace, tugging on his dick near violently until his thighs tensed, hips bucking as he let out a guttural groan. Thick ropes of cum shot onto his stomach, his panting filling the speaker.
Running his fingers through the mess he’d made, he rumbled, “I hate wasting this. It’s supposed to be for you.”
That. That right there should be enough to have me running for the hills.
I should feel like he was backing me into a corner, trying to trap me, to force me into a new cage after I’d barely escaped the last one.
Then why did my breathing hitch when the camera shifted and his piercing blue eyes, full of heat, came into view? Maybe it was because it felt like he was staring into my soul, trying to communicate how much he wanted me .
He was an athlete. Surely, if he was lonely on the road, he could find a willing companion to satisfy his sexual needs. But instead, he was rubbing one out with me as his muse.
Was that DMV some kind of portal into an alternate dimension? Because this couldn’t be real. Not this man being obsessed with me, and certainly not me wondering what it might be like to let him drag me into the light he seemed to bask in.
“Your turn, Gemma. Show me what you can do to that incredible body of yours.” Sasha winked before ending the video.
The screen went black, and I stared at it, my mouth hanging open. He couldn’t be serious. No way was I going to film myself in a piss-poor attempt to masturbate. I’d already told him how difficult that was for me. Hell, I still didn’t understand what kind of sexual voodoo he possessed that had me coming on command last night. Like he could snap his fingers and make my body do whatever he pleased.
Tapping the phone, I unlocked it, poised to send a text. But that’s where I got stuck.
What the hell did I say?
Thanks for the show, have a great night?
The last twenty-four hours have hit my quota on sex for the next year, and now I’m all set?
I’ve already gone viral on the internet. I don’t need to add a sex tape leak too?
I was still debating when an incoming text popped up.
Sasha: Don’t make me wait, Kitten.
Okay, enough of the madness.
I’m not doing it.
Three bubbles indicated he was typing a reply.
Sasha: Please. *Pleading eyes emoji*
I’m glad you got what you needed, but I just want to go to sleep.
Sasha: What I need is you, but you’re not here.
Didn’t you play a game tonight? Aren’t you tired?
Sasha: No. I’m wired. Full of adrenaline after a win, and I’m dying to work it off by pounding into your sweet pussy until you’re screaming my name so loud all your neighbors know who you belong to. But instead, I’m stuck in a hotel room in Atlanta, and my hand has nothing on you.
Jesus Christ. How did you respond to that?
Um. I’m sorry?
Sasha: I don’t need you to be sorry. I need you to slide your hands between your creamy thighs and rub tight little circles over your clit while you moan my name, picturing my face there instead.
Why was I panting? I should be appalled, not turned on by his filthy commands.
I ’m not filming myself doing that.
Sasha: Fine.
Fine? Just like that, he was going to let it drop?
The phone buzzed incessantly in my hand, and I realized how very wrong my assumption had been. He wasn’t just calling me; he was initiating a video chat.
Squeezing my eyes shut, berating myself for even entertaining this notion, I took a deep breath before reopening them and pressing the button to connect the call.
Sasha’s handsome face filled the screen, his signature grin front and center. “There’s my beautiful girl. You’re right. It’s better this way.”
“Better?” I blinked at him.
“Yeah.” He reclined on the bed, throwing an arm behind his head, resting on a pillow. “This way, I can watch you in real time.”
“R-real time?” I stammered, my brain struggling to keep up with how he had a knack for speaking in a code only he had the ability to decipher.
His free hand came into view, rubbing along his jaw as his blue gaze heated. “You want me to beg, baby? You want to hear that I’m dying to watch as you work yourself over into a panting, shaking mess for me? That I would give anything to hear you come, my name a breathless whisper on your lips?”
I let out a shaky exhale. “I-I can’t. I told you.”
Sasha dragged his teeth over his lower lip, groaning. “Are we still playing that game? Because I lost count of the number of times you came last night. On my face, on my fingers, and on my cock.”
Frustration leaked into my tone as I snapped, “It’s not the same!”
“Tell me why not,” he coaxed, his voice infuriatingly calm.
Why wouldn’t he yell back, argue with me, and tell me I was wrong? Why was he making it impossible for me to write him off as just another mansplaining asshole? Wasn’t he thinking what I was? That it should be easier for me to bring myself to orgasm than it was for him?
Covering my eyes with one hand, I let myself flop back onto the bed. My towel slipped an inch, and I heard Sasha groan, “You’re killing me, Gemma. I would give anything to tug that nipple between my teeth until you were writhing beneath me, begging to be put out of your misery.”
As I peeked between my fingers, he flipped his camera around to show me his cock standing proud. Wrapping a hand around it, he gave a slow tug, twisting as he moved from root to tip. “Do you see what you do to me? The tiniest nip slip, and I’m hard again.”
My face flamed, but it wasn’t the only part of me that was on fire. Heat flooded my veins, simmering right beneath the surface, and pooling between my thighs at the idea that I was enough to bring this sex god to his knees.
Why he chose me, of all people, to bestow his orgasmic talents upon, I would never know, but I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
I decided then and there that I was a big girl. I could compartmentalize and keep this about sex. He seemed to be all about it, so who was I to say no? We could both enjoy ourselves, wringing pleasure from each other’s bodies until our bright flame burned out, and then we would go our separate ways. Simple, right?
“You want me to talk you through it?” It was the sound of Sasha’s voice that made me realize he could still see me, even if the only view I had of him was his hand moving in slow strokes over his hard dick.
Biting my lip, I gave him a slight nod, sealing my fate. I was really doing this.
He gripped his cock harder, a low growl sounding from deep within his chest. “We’re gonna make this so good for you, baby.” I had my doubts, but I was done arguing. “Take off the towel and prop your phone up so you have both hands free, and I can watch everything you do.”
Following his instructions, I sat up before standing, allowing the towel to flutter to the ground. Stepping over to my nightstand, I set the phone down, angling it so the camera had a decent view of the majority of the bed.
“Get back on the bed, Gemma. Let me see you,” Sasha commanded, his voice husky but not harsh.
Swallowing around the lump forming in my throat as the nerves crept in, I sat on the edge, centering myself on the mattress before lying back.
“Nuh-uh,” he chided. “I want you turned around. On your back, legs spread, pussy facing me.”
My head whipped to the side at the request.
The screen no longer showed him working his cock. Instead, his face was back in view, and the lust shining in his eyes had my mouth going dry. He looked like he wanted to eat me alive, and damn, if I didn’t wish he was here in person so I could let him.
“I’ve got all night.” The meaning behind his words was clear. He wasn’t going to rest until I gave him what he wanted.
After all we’d done together—including him shaving me—why was I still embarrassed to spread my legs for his perusal? Maybe it was because no other man had ever been that focused on that particular part of me.
The few men I’d been with had been more interested in how they could use it to get themselves off. Before Sasha, only one had ventured down there with his tongue, and it had been a cringe-worthy experience at best, with sloppy licking strokes doing absolutely nothing for me—not that much of anything else did before the man staring intensely back at me on screen.
Shaking away the ghosts of terrible lays past, I repositioned myself in the way requested, the only modification being that I kept my legs together.
Sasha clicked his tongue. “Open those thick thighs for me, sweetheart. Show me the goods.”
Just because he was looking didn’t mean I had to, so I lifted my chin, staring at the ceiling as I dropped my knees to the side.
“Goddamn, Gemma.” His groan reached my ears. “That pretty pussy is taunting me, knowing it’ll be days before I can bury my face in it again.”
Those words had me shifting restlessly, needing him. But he wasn’t here, and I whined, knowing my touch wouldn’t compare to his.
“Play with your tits.”
My head popped up, my eyes bulging. “What?”
“I’m more than happy to sit back and let you run the show if you don’t want me to talk you through how to make yourself come.”
“No. I . . . I just don’t see how that accomplishes the goal,” I countered.
A sexy, wicked grin curved on his lips. “Oh, Kitten. You’re gonna have to trust me on this.”
Trust. He’d asked for that once before. When he was buried half-deep inside me, and I hadn’t been sure he could make the rest fit.
Honestly, I didn’t trust anyone. I’d learned that lesson the hard way one too many times.
But I could admit that in a sexual capacity, he made me feel safe. That was close enough, right?
Blowing out a breath, I closed my eyes, letting my head drop back onto the mattress, and my hands skimmed over my stomach toward the curves of my breasts.
“That’s my girl,” Sasha coached through the phone. “Give ’em a squeeze for me.”
My hands kneaded the flesh of my chest, and I couldn’t stop the moan from rising up my throat. They were so heavy and full, and my touch wasn’t nearly enough.
“Pinch your nipples. Tug on them hard enough to give a bite of pain.”
Blood roared in my ears as a heady mix of arousal and anticipation created a steady throbbing between my thighs.
I rolled my hardened nipples between my fingers, gasping when it shot a bolt of pleasure straight to my core. That’s why he had me doing this. God, how had I never discovered this before?
“Harder,” he commanded, his ragged breathing matching my own.
Gripping harder, I tugged, my back arching as sensations threatened to overwhelm me. My hips shifted, trying to ease the ache, but I needed more.
“Look at you. Desperate and writhing. I bet if I were there, you’d willingly crawl on your knees to me, begging for my cock. Isn’t that right, Kitten?”
“God, yes,” I whined, the picture he painted making me pant. I would give anything to have him here, touching me, filling me up.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna make sure you come, even though I’m a jealous asshole, because it’s your hands doing all the work, not mine.”
“Please.” My breathy voice sounded foreign to my ears.
“Go ahead and slide one hand between your legs. See how wet you are for me.”
There was a beat of hesitation. Any time I’d attempted self-love, I’d done so with a vibrator, not that it had done much good. Never had I used my hands.
“Come on, Gemma. Don’t be shy.”
He didn’t understand. It wasn’t shyness holding me back. It was inexperience. More than that, it was the fear of letting him down, that I wouldn’t be able to live up to whatever fantasy he had of watching me play with myself until I reached a climax.
A sigh sounded from where my cell was propped on the nightstand. But it wasn’t one born of frustration. It was softer, like he was mulling something over in his mind.
“Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
I folded my lips in, working up the courage to lay myself bare—emotionally this time, since he’d already stripped me physically naked.
“I’ve never done it like this,” I confessed.
“On the phone?”
“No. Well, yes. I’ve never done this over the phone before. But what I mean is, I’ve never . . . touched myself. Not like this.”
“That’s okay.” The deep timbre of his voice had the power to lull me into a trance.
Hadn’t it done so already? Why else would I have put out for him on the first date, dropped to my knees of my own accord before eating lunch the following day, and be engaged in video phone sex now?
Sasha Gusev had cast a sexual spell on me, and I had zero hopes of breaking free of it.
But do you really want to?
“Let me help you, babe. I’ll tell you exactly what to do to make yourself feel good, okay?”
Why? Why did he have to have an answer for everything ? This would be so much easier to walk away from if he didn’t.
Taking a few steadying breaths—easier said than done with how tightly I was wound—I agreed, “Okay.”
“Try not to overthink it. You’re gonna do exactly what I do, which is follow your body’s cues. It’s trial and error until you find the right spot, the right pace to drive you crazy. When you find it, you’ll know.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. That was easy for him to say. He apparently had some kind of secret map to all my right spots .
“Relax and let your hands wander. If you like how they feel on your tits, play with them for a while. If you want something more, reach between your thighs and explore.”
He made it sound so simple when it was anything but.
Blowing out a breath, I grew determined to give this a try. If it didn’t work out, at least I could gain satisfaction in being able to tell him I told you so .
“If it helps, you look so fucking hot that I’m about to blow my load all over myself again just staring at you.”
A laugh bubbled up from my chest.
“It’s not funny,” Sasha chastised, trying and failing to sound stern. “This is a real problem I’m dealing with over here.”
His ridiculousness broke some of the tension surrounding me, and I finally settled into the mattress, letting one hand tease over the skin of my inner thigh.
A hiss sounded through the phone as I finally dragged fingers through my slit, gliding through it easily with how wet I already was just from teasing my nipples and listening to Sasha’s dirty words.
My fingertips brushed against my clit, causing my hips to buck, demanding more.
“There you go,” Sasha coaxed. “Try different pressures and speed. Discover what you like.”
Using two fingers, I circled the sensitive, swollen bud, pressing down gently as I did so. A moan slipped past my lips at how good it felt. I could feel myself dripping onto the mattress as I upped my pace, gasping when the pleasure grew.
“That’s it. Breathtaking, baby. Keep going.” The words came out strained, like he was holding back his own release, waiting until I achieved mine.
Tingles gathered at my core, sparking in anticipation of catching fire. God, how I wanted to let it consume me.
I held my breath, the intensity growing, and my fingers grew frantic. They rubbed faster and harder, chasing that peak just out of reach.
“You’re right there, I can tell. Relax and let go.”
Relax? Was he out of his mind? I was strung so tight, every muscle in my body locked. The last thought I had was that I hoped he had a good view of my toes curling right before I exploded, an electric current flooding my veins as I screamed his name until my voice grew hoarse.
Violent tremors left me shaking as my hand fell away, unable to endure even the lightest touch with how sensitive my clit had become. My hearing was fuzzy. My limp limbs were splayed, unable to move. My heart hammered against my ribcage, trying to escape.
The most mind-blowing part of all was that I’d done it myself.
Well, almost.
The faraway grunts, curses, and gritted uttering of my name were a reminder of the man who had helped me realize that learning my body put me in control of my own pleasure.
What an incredible gift.
“That was more than I could have hoped for tonight, baby. You were stunning. I’ll be reliving it on repeat until I get back home.”
My breathing evened out, and I tried to formulate a response—a thank you, anything—but my eyelids grew heavier with each passing second.
Sasha’s soft chuckle only lulled me further toward sleep. “Good night, Gemma.”
Good night, indeed.