Chapter 19 #2
I’m tired of letting fear make my choices. I want to fight for this—for us. Even if it’s messy, even if it’s uncertain, I don’t want to walk away without trying. So, instead of letting my bold, fierce personality take a back seat to fear, I decide I’m going to take charge.
“The only thing making me uncomfortable right now is you lying there without a shirt on and another pair of sexy sweatpants that hang low on your waist. I can’t stop picturing what’s beneath them.”
Pride fills my chest as I watch the shock take over his face at how blunt my words were. This is the Jessie everyone else gets. The one he used to get. It’s about time she comes out to play.
“You can’t say things like that”—he swallows—“and not …”
I turn my head to the side as I watch him squirm, at a loss for words. “And not … what? You don’t think I’d say that without making sure we both got the release we desperately needed?”
“Fuck, are you serious right now? Where is this coming from?”
A lighthearted laugh escapes me. “Maybe I’m done acting like a fragile, doe-eyed girl with you. I’m letting the real me break free. The one who snuck into your room to take what she wanted.”
“And what does this Jessie want right now?” His tone is quiet but weighted, deep enough to wrap around me.
I run my fingers underneath the neck of my T-shirt as my body heats at all the possibilities coming to mind. His teeth scrape over his bottom lip as he patiently waits, watching intently.
“I want to watch you”—my voice wavers—“touch yourself.”
His brow lifts, surprise flashing across his face before his mouth curves into something darker, hungrier. The screen rocks back and forth for a second as he leans forward, then falls back on the couch and lies on his side.
Sweatpants. I knew it. Hanging low. Not gray. Black this time.
He must have placed his phone on the coffee table. The view of his body is causing my panties to dampen.
Next thing I know, he is resting his head on his hand. It feels like he’s a model and I’m about to paint his portrait. I’d buy that shit.
He uses his other hand to hook his thumb into his waistband and inches his sweatpants down a couple of inches. He stops, teasing me with a small smirk on his face.
“Don’t I get to see you too?” he asks.
“I thought we were doing what I wanted,” I tease back.
“Baby, I’ll give you what you want. I just want to see you. All of you. You don’t have to do anything.”
I lean forward, placing my glass of wine down on the coffee table, then prop up my phone against my coasters. As soon as I scoot back on my couch, I realize just how comfortable I am with him.
I wouldn’t do this with a man I had only slept with once. I may be outspoken and brave, but I still have to work up to trust my partner. But despite all that’s happened between us, I trust him.
“This is all you get right now,” I reply as I settle into the cushions.
Instead of looking disappointed, he appears mesmerized, like this is all he needed in the first place.
He pushes his sweatpants all the way down to his thighs, and his thick cock bounces free. I nearly lose my breath as I watch his hand wrap around his dick and give it one slow, long tug.
Holy. Shit. This is better than any porn I have ever seen.
The veins in his hand pop as he grips himself tighter and runs along his length. When he gets to the tip, he rubs a thumb along the top, which glistens with his pre-cum.
“Tell me you like this. Tell me you want more,” he demands.
I swallow, trying to remember words and how to use them. I nod my head.
“Talk to me, baby,” his deep voice continues. “Tell me.”
Heat courses through my body, begging for some kind of relief. My own hand itches to slide into my pajamas.
“I want more,” I reply.
“Good girl,” he replies.
He goes back to stroking himself. I watch with a steady, quiet gaze, taking in every muscle and vein with reverence. His jaw tightens while he looks down at himself, dick hard as a rock in his hand.
“I wish I were there,” I choke out, not able to hold back just how desperate I am to be with him.
His pleading eyes are too irresistible for me not to give him what I know he wants.
“Would you wrap those soft lips around my cock and take me all the way to the back of your throat again? I fucking love watching you gag on me.”
There he goes again with those dirty words that have a direct line to my pussy. I feel myself clench with desire.
Instead of answering, I shift onto my back and lift my shirt over my head and toss it to the side, my shorts and panties joining it next.
His deep groan tells me he likes what he sees. I match his position, on my side with a hand supporting my head.
“Tell me …” I look back at him as he glides his hand along his shaft, a little slower this time. “What do you want me to do?”
“Fill your hand with your breast, baby. Play with it for me.”
I obey his command, loving the feeling of him watching me while I do. I pinch my nipple, which travels straight to my core, and a soft whimper falls from my lips.
“Fuck yeah. If I were there, I’d bite down on that perfect pink nipple with my teeth. Just enough to cause you pain, and then I’d soothe it with my tongue. Would you like that, Jessie?”
“Yes,” I breathe as I move back to massage my breast.
“Tell me what else you’d want me to do.”
I don’t even have to think about it. “Your tongue on my clit.”
“I’d lick that clit so good for you. Then I’d make you suck on my finger, getting it good and wet so I could slide it into your ass. I promise it would make everything feel so much better.”
I’ve never done that before, but he makes it sound so enticing.
“Would you let me do that for you?” he continues.
“Yes,” I gasp, needing more.
“Fuck, I’m close. I wanna come with you. Move that hand down to your clit. Show me how you touch yourself.”
I let go of my breast and bring my hand all the way down to my pussy, letting my fingers slide through my folds.
“There you go,” he whispers. “Get those fingers nice and wet first.”
The instant my fingers graze over my clit, a shiver of relief rushes through me, but it’s gone too fast, just a fleeting taste.
The ache only sharpens as I circle back, building heat with every stroke.
I keep moving, slow and steady, the pressure climbing, while he watches, fist working his cock in time with the rhythm of my hand.
“I’m close,” I pant as I go quicker, chasing the sweet relief.
“Me too,” he says on a heavy breath. “I’m barely hanging on. Come with me.”
He groans and grunts as he pumps thick white shots of cum all over his stomach. The visual is too hot for me to hang on for a moment longer. I follow him into oblivion as my own orgasm takes over, and I spasm repeatedly, soaking my fingers and thighs with my own release.
We lie flat on the couch, breaths coming jagged and uneven. After a beat of silence, we know we have to say goodbye. It’s getting late, and we made a mess on ourselves.
Just when I think he can’t do anything else tonight that will take me by surprise, he proves me wrong.
“Good night, beautiful,” he says softly. “I’ll dream of you tonight.”