Chapter 26 #2
“Good. Because I hear your moans every night. I remember talking you through it, telling you how many fingers, how fast to fuck yourself. I remember you asking me if you could cum, and when I said no, you begged and pleaded with me. I could hear you panting, desperate to get off. But you were still such a good girl and pulled your fingers out of your perfect pussy, just like I told you to.”
“And then you made me suck on them,” I breathed, my thighs clenching together.
He chuckled darkly. “I did. And then I made you fuck yourself harder than ever, whilst I fisted my cock and got off to the sounds of your moans.”
“Do you still think of me like that?”
Why the fuck had I asked that?
“Every damned day,” he replied without any hesitation.
“Sometimes I still think I can smell you on my skin, and then I’m no better than a teenage boy, jerking off every chance I get.
All I have to do is close my eyes, and I can picture you perfectly.
Laid out on the bed, your hair spilling over my pillows.
Bent over my bike, your luscious ass up in the air.
In the shower, the water spilling over your insane tits, your back slamming against the wall over and over as I fucked you senseless.
” He took a deep intake of breath and exhaled slowly. “It’s like torture at this point.”
Good God.
My back arched at his words, the palm of my hand pressing against myself just to try to relieve some of the ache he had created.
I could feel my arousal on my inner thighs, and my nipples had hardened to stiff peaks. My mouth was dry, and all I could think about was pushing my fingers between my legs and doing something about the situation he had created.
Surely he wouldn’t notice if I—?
“What are you doing?” he asked, and my hand immediately pulled away from where it had been going.
“Nothing,” I replied, but even I could hear how desperate that sounded.
“Liar.” His voice had changed. It was darker now. Lower. “I know your voice, princess. I know how you sound when you’re turned on. I know how your voice sounds when you’re desperate to touch yourself. Let me ask you again, what are you doing?”
What do you want me to do?
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask. To open up the door to him guiding me through it again. To pick up where we left off all those years ago, having him guide me, give me direction, commands, setting the pace of how fast, how many fingers…
My fingers drifted lower again, tracing idle shapes over bare skin, not yet touching where I really wanted to, just circling around the wanting of it.
“Want to know what I’m doing?” he asked me when I didn’t reply.
“Sure.”
“I’ve got my cock in my hand, and—”
I couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped me, and he stopped what he was saying as he laughed at me.
“Like the thought of that?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Join me,” he whispered. “Touch yourself.”
And there it was. His instruction. The moment I had been waiting for.
I bit my lip and let my hand finally slide where I had been dancing around going all along, my eyes drifting shut for a second as my breathing caught. A moan of relief fell from my lips as my fingers circled my clit. The jolt of pleasure that ricocheted through me was immediate.
On the other end of the line, Vienna said my name again.
This time it sounded less like a warning and more like surrender.
I let my thighs drop, giving in to the feeling. I pushed two fingers inside my pussy, moaning loudly.
“Fuck, Gabriella. Don’t do that.”
“Do what? Moan? Or fuck my pussy?”
“Both. But don’t you dare stop,” he hurried to add. “Talk to me. Tell me what you’re doing.”
“This is a change of direction, isn’t it? Aren’t you usually the one issuing commands and telling me what to do? How can I live with such freedom?”
“I feel like living life on the edge and letting you take control—for a while. Put me out of my misery here, and tell me what you’re doing.”
I laughed softly, but it came out shakier than I intended.
“I’m sliding two fingers inside me, Vienna, and fuck it feels good. My pussy is so wet. I’m picturing you, remembering all the times my pussy soaked your cock as you fucked me hard and fast, showing me who I belonged to.”
“Gabby…” he warned.
But I was on a roll now.
“I’m imagining your hands around my throat, the way you’d call me your good girl when I took your cock so well. The way you’d growl when I tensed around you, squeezing you from deep inside my pussy.”
“Fuck yes… fuck yourself harder. Let me hear it.”
I did as he asked, sliding my fingers in and out of myself faster, moaning the entire time. I balanced the phone between my shoulder and cheek and brought my other hand to my clit, circling it as fast as my fingers were fucking myself.
“Now slow down,” he demanded. “Pull those fingers out of your pussy and just play with your clit. Small, steady circles. Tease yourself.”
Again, I followed his direction, even when everything inside of me begged to ignore him.
“That’s it, baby,” he breathed, and I didn’t question how he knew I’d listened. I was too caught up in the moment.
“Vienna, please…”
“What do you want?”
“You know what I want. Don’t make me go slow. Not tonight.”
“I’ll give you two choices. Do you want to fuck yourself, or do you want to know a secret?” he growled.
“What?”
He didn’t answer. At least not with words. Instead, a sharp tap sounded against the window.
I smothered a scream with my hand.
My whole body jerked.
The phone nearly slipped from the bed.
For one wild, terrified second, my mind supplied every possible disaster at once—Nico, one of the girls, one of the men, someone who had heard me…
Then another knock came and my heart launched itself into my throat. I shoved the nightdress back down and scrambled off the bed, bare feet silent against the floor as I hurried to the window, snatching the phone up as I did so. I clenched it between my fingers so tightly that they began to hurt.
My breath was coming too fast. I was stuck between dread and fear, expecting the worst the further across this room I got.
And then I reached the glass and froze… because there he was. Standing on my balcony like he had materialised straight out of the dark, phone to his ear, mouth tipped in the smallest, most infuriatingly smug smile I had ever seen.
For one full second, all I could do was stare.
Then, all logic and reason abandoned me, and I did what I had never done before. I unlocked the balcony door and yanked it open just enough to whisper, “What the fuck?”
Vienna lowered his phone from his ear and slid it into his pocket with irritating calm. “Damn. You chose secret. I was hoping you’d choose to continue fucking yourself. That was quite a sight to behold.”
I stared at him.
Actually stared.
I was incapable of doing anything else.
His hair was a mess. His shirt was half untucked.
There was a flush still lingering high on his cheeks that made it obvious he’d been drinking, but not enough to make him unsteady.
His eyes looked darker than usual in the night, more blown, more focused, and the sight of him standing there after hearing his voice in my ear for the last several minutes did something deeply unhelpful to my insides.
“Surprise,” he smirked. “And to think, the only reason that show started is because you thought I’d stood you up.”
“You may not have stood me up, but you’re late.” I snapped, but there was no conviction behind it.
His smile widened, just a little.
“I’m not late.” He leaned one shoulder against the frame, gaze dragging over me slowly enough to make my skin heat. “Just because you don’t see me doesn’t mean I’m not always here.”
The words should not have affected me.
They really, really shouldn’t have.
But they did.
Badly.
“That’s kind of…”
He tilted his head. “Obsessive?”
“Kind of.”
He huffed a laugh, running one hand over his beard. “I’ve had worse reviews.”
I stepped back from the window without really thinking about it, my pulse still all over the place, and his eyes tracked the movement immediately.
“Aren’t you going to finish what you started?”
“Aren’t you joining me?” I shot back, the wine making me bolder than wisdom ever would.
His expression changed. It became darker. Sharpened.
He looked me over once more, slower this time, taking in the bare legs, the flushed skin, the way I was still slightly breathless from being caught so off guard, and then shook his head softly.
“Not whilst you’re drunk,” he said, surprising hell out of me.
“You haven’t had a drink?”
“I have,” he admitted. “But I don’t mind being taken advantage of. You, on the other hand… well, I’d rather wait until you’re sober.”
I blinked, dumfounded. He must have seen it, because the corner of his mouth lifted.
“You’re really not going to join me?”
He shook his head.
“No?” I asked softly.
“No,” he repeated, though there was a roughness in his voice now that made it very clear this was not coming from lack of wanting. “But wild horses couldn’t keep me away from watching.”
Heat flared low in my stomach.
I smiled before I could stop myself.
“You know,” I said, folding my arms loosely beneath my chest and leaning against the edge of the desk, “you’re on Riders territory.”
Vienna’s gaze flicked to my mouth and back again.
“Mm.”
“You’re at their clubhouse. The home of their president.” I tilted my head. “And you’re standing outside his old lady’s bedroom window watching her touch herself.”
His jaw flexed.
“They’ll kill you if they find out.”
That made him smile in a way that sent a sharp little thrill through me despite myself.
“Then let's get this show on the road. Don’t let me die with my cock out.”
My breath caught as I watched his hand move to his belt, and then lower, the look on his face nearly melting me from the inside out.
“You best make the show a good one.”
The whole room seemed to shift around us. To become nothing but the line between his body and mine.