Chapter 17 #3
My hips move, and without a shadow of a doubt, I know with every fiber of my being that he’s watching. Fixated on me just as I’m mesmerized by him. Dreaming of seeing more of him. Imagining that he’s beneath me.
“How does it feel?” he grunts out.
“Good.” It’s the only word I can muster.
“Just good?”
I can pick up notes of his disappointment through the phone, and I scramble for something to make it better. So I settle for the truth. “Empty.” It comes out as a whimper.
“I know, baby. I know. You poor thing.” He hums, voice rough and sorrowful. “Tell me what you need.”
“You.” The answer is instant.
“God, you’re fucking desperate, aren’t you?” I’d be offended if he didn’t sound so pleased and ravished by the thought. “Shirt. Off. Now.”
Goosebumps scatter over my skin at the sudden change of tone. He leaves no room for argument. He wants it. Now.
My top is on the floor in the next instant. The trepidation from fears he might find me inadequate lasts only a moment before his next command has my body moving against my will.
“Your bra.”
It lands on the floor beside the shirt.
The excitement is palpable because I’ve been wanting this type of interaction since the moment I saw him. And he’s proving he sees me. He wants me. He knows we’re meant to be together. This is the next step.
“Fucking hell,” he groans. I wish I could see his face right now. “This is what you’ve been hiding from me in all your little fucking pictures? I’ve been dreaming of seeing you like this for months.”
Leo’s been dreaming of us together too? Months? I want to know whether his lips are parted, or if he’s watching me from beneath heavy eyelids.
“Show me your cunt. I need to see how you play with yourself.”
He sounds desperate too. It’s why I don’t second-guess myself when I pull my underwear to the side and bring my phone closer so he can see hints of what he’s asked.
A noise of appreciation leaves his throat. “If that isn’t the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”
I blush red from head to toe. For a second, I contemplate letting him see all of me—my face. He’s never asked before, and I hate thinking he might imagine someone else in place of my own if he really is dreaming about me.
“Have you soaked the towel?”
Humming my confirmation, I’m hit with another wave of confidence that has my fingers brushing over my clit for his enjoyment. His cock jerks on the screen.
“Yeah? Dirty girl.”
I like the sound of that more than I reasonably should. If his camera wasn’t slowly drifting lower for me, I’d be voicing my complaints. I’ve never thought dicks were attractive before, but by God I can’t say the same about Leo’s.
“You imagining that it’s me you’re riding?” The words are practically grunted out.
My core clamps down under a misguided assumption that we’re about to take him. There’s a thick, angry vein going down his shaft that’s fitting for the sheer girth of him. I knew he’d be big, and boy, is he bringing the size in spades.
“Pinch one of those nipples for me.”
It’s only been five minutes, but he already has me well trained because I follow his next instruction without pause. Angling my phone so he can see my chest as well, I hiccup on a moan from the faint zap of pain.
“Put the phone back down. I want to see all of you.”
I use both hands to position my phone back where it was, careful not to let my face show and ruin this whole thing we have going on. My fingers dig back into the blankets, and my focus goes back to watching his fist jerk up and down his cock in time with the grind of my hips.
“Did I say you could stop touching yourself?” he growls.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to apologize as my hands snap up to my chest to knead my tender breasts.
“Good. Keep fucking that towel, baby. Just like that.”
And I do. Just like I watch him fuck his hand. But with his words still hot in my ear, and the inches he’s slowly letting me see, I’m a goner.
There’s nothing to stop me from moaning or whimpering his name, or forgetting his order, because I fall forward, clutching the blanket as my pleasure reaches a crescendo. I can’t hear, can barely see, only feel my stomach tightening.
Then it hits me, faster and stronger than I’ve ever experienced before. It yanks me off my axis and leaves me winded and crying, shaking on the bed as my limbs twitch from the explosion.
My head falls forward and the bed dips as I drop my weight onto my hands in front of me to catch my breath.
As if it’s something instinctual that I just know in my heart of hearts, I refocus in time to hear the echo of his curse and watch a string of cum spurt from Leo’s cock onto his jeans. My mouth waters, wanting to capture it with my tongue.
His hand moves faster than the internet connection can keep up with. It’s a blur of motion that has more moisture spilling out.
I gasp, waiting for him to come down from the high that I’m still riding.
How do I suggest that we make this a daily thing? Maybe next time we’ll do it in person.
I huff out a breath, wanting to laugh. Everything is going according to plan.
Leo wants me just like I want him. We’re moving to the next phase.
Maybe now we’ll start talking on the phone, then we can soon meet up, and I’ll admit my identity.
By then we’ll both be in too deep to run from what’s happening between us.
With a stupid smile spread on my face, I look back up at my phone.
My stomach sinks when my reflection stares back at me from the corner of the screen. I scramble to fix it and end up shutting the camera off to avoid a mistake like that from happening again.
I hold my breath to ready myself for the pain of having my identity revealed. I screwed up. He knows who I am. There’s no way he didn’t see my face.
Except the rejection never comes. He never points out that I’m the author his friends harassed. He doesn’t demand an explanation.
Instead, Leo’s deep chuckle chimes through the receiver. “I’ll be seeing you around, Jas. You’ve been misbehaving far too often lately.”
Then the line goes dead.