Chapter Three #2
“Yes, Fiona. I want you naked.” And under me, my hand wrapped around that thick, silky red hair as I thrust my cock into her mouth. Or preferably, those long legs wrapped around my waist as I sink balls deep into her wet pussy. Taking her. Claiming her. “Take them off, then send me a picture.”
She doesn’t protest this time as there’s more shuffling, and when my phone vibrates, my heart damn near jumps to my throat.
Whatever ounce of blood I had left in my body all rushes south, and my cock swells even more as I stare at the picture Fiona just sent.
She has an arm covering her bare breasts and legs crossed cleverly not to reveal much, but she's naked, alright.
And mine.
I run the heel of my hand over my stiff cock, drinking in her picture like it's the air I need to breathe.
“I want you to lie down on your back, Fiona, and picture me next to you,” I grunt, listening as she follows the order.
“Put me on speaker and place your phone next to your head and do everything I tell you.”
“Okay,” she whispers, her voice low and breathy. “Now what?”
“Slide your palms down your body and cup your tits, pinch your nipples and don’t stop until I tell you,” I command, need clawing at my chest as I picture my goddess doing as instructed.
Those larger-than-life eyes staring up at me with so much innocence and trust. “Keep your left hand where it is and slide your right down your stomach. Slowly.”
“Hmm,” she moans, and I can picture her biting her bottom lip and dragging her teeth over the abused flesh. “Raziel…”
“Open your legs wider, and I want that hand moving down, lower until it’s between your legs.” The pressure in my own pants grows unbearable, so I unzip my jeans before leaning back in my seat to stroke myself. “I’m so fucking hard for you right now, baby. Tell me, are you wet for me?”
“Yeah, so wet,” she whimpers into my ear. “What do I do next? Raziel, please…”
“Slide your middle finger between your folds and stroke your clit,” I order, groaning when she whimpers into my ear. Fuck, I can almost picture the scene in my head, but I’m helpless to do anything but imagine it. “Do you like how that feels?”
“Uh-huh,” she cries out. “Feels good.”
“Don’t stop,” I tell her, my fist moving fast over my cock, picturing her sexy lips wrapped around me, those gorgeous eyes locked on mine as I slide my shaft in and out of her mouth. “Circle your clit faster, la mia flamma.”
“Yes,” she moans, and I hear the bed creak on the other end of the line. Her cries grow louder, making my hand move faster on my cock. I fuck my fist like an animal, snarling as I feel myself drawing closer to the edge.
“Faster, Fiona,” I growl, hips jerking forward as I thrust into my closed fist. “And don’t you dare come without my permission.”
“W-what?” she whimpers, sounding dazed. “I…I can’t. I’m so close.”
“Slow down,” I order.
“Raziel…’
“Do it.”
“Oh God,” she sobs, hiccupping as the bed creaks softly into silence.
“Yes, baby, just like that,” I say, the words scratching out of my throat. “Move slowly and wait until I tell you to come.”
“Please?”
“Not yet.” I stroke myself faster, cock aching with the need to fuck. To find my precious goddess and claim her forever. Make her mine. “I haven’t stopped thinking about your perfect little body since I left your place, Fiona. It’s all I see when I close my eyes.”
“Raziel.”
“I want to lick you all over, take those pebbled nipples between my lips until you’re writhing under me, and worship your tight pussy until you’re crying out my name.
” I hiss when I brush my thumb over my head, feeling myself edge so much closer to my climax.
“And when you’re dripping for me, I’ll sink my cock into your wet pussy and fuck you so hard you’ll forget your own name. ”
“Raziel…please.”
“Stroke your clit and come with me, mia piccola fiamma,” I growl, and when the creaking comes back, followed by her pleasured sobs, I allow myself to fall.
I come with a roar, spilling all over my hand and lap.
White lights shoot behind my eyes as I wring my cock dry, bathing in the sound of her pleasured cries.
“Raziel,” she whimpers, and I can picture her pretty eyes dazed and her chest rising as she heaves every breath. “Oh God.”
I slump back against my seat as blood roars in my head, and I question why in the three years of knowing each other, we never shared such a moment before. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” she murmurs, and there is silence for a moment on the other end before she speaks again. “What does it mean?”
“What?” I ask, reaching into a drawer in my desk for some wet wipes to clean my hands.
“The words you keep saying,” she says, her words steadier now. “I know that mia is Italian for mine, but what about the other ones?”
“Piccola flamma?”
“Yes, that.”
“It means my flame. My little fire,” I say as I realize I've thought of her like this since before we met.
“Is it because of my red hair? People say it reminds them of fire–”
“It’s not,” I say as I tuck myself back into my pants. “Beyond your beauty, you are the most stubborn and most intelligent woman I have ever met, Fiona. You challenge me in ways no one else does. So passionate and easily fired up when challenged.”
“I…” Her voice breaks, so she clears it. “You really think that?”
“I do,” I tell her. “Now get some rest. If you’re going to help me with this project, I want you to be at your best tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she whispers, and when the call drops, I find myself oddly refreshed and energized. I get up to dispose of the wipes and make myself a fresh cup of coffee before diving back into work.