69 #2
“Are you still wearing that red dress?” The picture from earlier burns in my mind. I knew she’d look amazing in it, but thinking of her now, touching herself with that dress on?
Fuck.
I slip my sweatpants down enough for my dick to jump out, begging for her to keep talking.
“Barely.”
“Barely?”
“What, you want a picture?”
My fingers start to wrap around my dick when I freeze. “Are you seriously sending me a picture right now?”
Val isn’t the type of girl who sends nudes. I can’t imagine her ever wanting to do something like that for fear of it getting out. But here she is, offering a picture of herself in her dress. Yes, she won’t be naked, but it’s still surprising for her.
“Fuck it,” she whispers, more to herself than me. I listen as her phone moves in her hand for a moment before she lets out a breath. “It’s sent.”
“Valentina, are you being serious right now?”
“You tell me.”
Jesus Christ, this woman is going to kill me.
I quickly pull my phone down and click on the message from her. I was right, she still has the dress on, but somehow that makes my dick harder. Her face isn’t in the picture, but her dress is pulled up to her waist and has slipped off one shoulder, revealing the top of her black lace bra.
But the part that kills me, the part that makes me want to jump through my phone and be there with her this instant, is her hand between her legs. Her thighs are closed around her hand, but it’s still enough to send shockwaves through my body.
“Huxley?”
Her soft voice comes through the phone, laced with a hint of fear that I don’t like what I see. I put my phone on speaker so I can stare at her photo.
“Are you still touching yourself?” I roughly grit out.
“Yes,” she moans, sending my hand in a desperate rhythm on my cock.
“I don’t just want to put my fingers inside of you, I want to be inside you. I want my dick in you so bad, and I want to feel you wrapped around me.”
I could very much be scaring her away with my words, but when a delicate moan hits my ears, I know I’m turning her on more. So I continue.
“You’re gorgeous body naked underneath me, moving under my control. And I’ll touch you and taste you until all you know is me and the pleasure I can make you feel.”
She nearly screams, so I pump my hand faster. “God, I want you. I want you so fucking bad.”
She moans my name, and I can almost hear her touching herself. Last time we did this, she wasn’t as loud. But I know my words got to her as she loses her mind and whimpers through her orgasm.
“Good girl,” I praise her. Because she is. She did so well for me, and I can’t wait to see her do that exact same thing in person.
She pulls in a deep breath, still trying to calm herself down. “I bet you’d like to see me now.”
“Fuck yeah, I would.”
“Good,” she says with some force behind it. “Now you have to wait until you actually get me under you to see me like that.”
I groan, imagining her just like that. Her underneath me while she stares up at me in pure pleasure. I move my hand faster and grit out her name.
“Yes, baby?” I don’t know where that voice comes from, but it’s the hottest she’s ever sounded. “Does someone need a little help?”
Holy fucking shit. If I didn’t have a massive hard-on right now, I would drop dead from her sexy, innocent voice. “Jesus. You’re too good at that.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Fuck yes.” She giggles, and I nearly snap. “Don’t do that.”
“Oh? What’s the matter, Huxley? You don’t want to hear me laugh?”
Okay, she’s trying to kill me.
“Would you rather hear how much I want you inside me?” she purrs.
And I’m dead. My head falls back, but thankfully, my hand keeps moving.
“How much I want to feel you moving in and out of me, making me feel so good. Is that what you want, baby? How much I want you to touch me and taste me and fuck me. Your hands on my body—inside my body—playing with me. You want to play with me? Huh? Is that what you want, Huxley?”
My eyes squeeze shut, and my head goes fuzzy for a second. I open my eyes and look down, seeing my release all over my hand, all from her voice.
“Good boy.”
A shaky laugh comes through me as I tuck myself back into my sweatpants. “Where did you learn to talk like that?”
“I don’t know,” she murmurs, instantly shy from the encounter. I have to smile at her—my sweet girl who turns into a confident seductress. “You were talking to me like that. So I thought I’d do the same to you.”
“Well, you sound so fucking hot. And I can’t wait for you to do it in person.”
“No. There’s no way I could ever say any of that to your face.” I hear the panic in her voice, and even though I don’t want to push her to do something she isn’t ready for, I don’t know how it’s much different over the phone than in person.
“Why not?”
“It’s embarrassing,” she whispers.
“It’s extremely sexy.”
She pauses for a moment, and then in a soft voice laced with confusion, she asks, “Are you calling me sexy?”
I bite my tongue. It doesn’t surprise me that she doesn’t see herself as sexy. It does surprise me that she’s never heard it before.
Although that isn’t really the first compliment you should throw at a woman. Beautiful and gorgeous, sure. But sexy? That shouldn’t be said until you are in the right moment with your girl. And this was the right moment for my girl to find out that she is, in fact, sexy.
“Yes,” I reply calmly.
“Me?”
One day, I’ll make her see herself for how I see her. Until then, I’ll keep reminding her.
“You are sexy, Valentina Demarco. Do you not remember the photo you sent me?”
Silence hits me for a few too many seconds before I hear Val barely breathe out, “Oh my god.”
I sit up straighter, knowing I just sent her into a tailspin. “Valentine.” I try to keep my voice firm and comforting, but I can hear her unraveling from across the country.
“Oh my god, what am I doing?”
“Valentine, it’s okay.” I try to assure her, but this sounds like a panic attack in the making.
“I sent you a dirty picture,” she says, but it sounds like she’s saying it to herself and not to me. Like she can’t believe she did something like that.
“Your face wasn’t in it,” I try to remind her calmly. “And I won’t show it to anyone.” No one else gets to see her like that.
“Oh my god, what if someone steals your phone?”
“Valentina.” My voice comes out a little bit harsher.
I get up from my bed, starting to pace around my room. I don’t want to get angry with her over this, but she has nothing to worry about. It’s one picture that no one else will see.
“You have to delete it. And I’ll delete mine too.”
“What if I don’t want to delete it?”
“What?”
“I don’t want to delete it.”
“Huxley.”
“No one’s going to see it but me.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Here we go. Fighting once again.”
Silence.
Like I was never talking to her at all.
I pause my pacing across the floor. “Valentina?”
Still, nothing comes through. I check the call and see it hasn’t ended, but I can’t even hear her breathing on the other end.
“Love?”
As the silence continues, I realize what I’ve done.
She wanted me to delete the photo of her that she would have never taken before.
A photo that, once she came down from her high of pleasure, she realized was a mistake.
And I said we were fighting. But we weren’t.
She’s scared, and I pushed her farther than I should have.
“I’m sorry I keep making you angry.” Her soft, even tone almost scares me. Like she’s shutting down from the world because of this. Her defenses going up to keep her safe. Safe from me.
“No,” I whisper. “No, baby, you aren’t.
“I promise I’ll do better so we don’t fight anymore.”
I grip my hair tightly. This was not how this conversation was supposed to go. We were supposed to get past all this and be good.
We were.
For two seconds before I fucked it all up again.
“Valentine,” I beg.
“I’ll see you when I get back.”
“That’s not until Saturday. It’s only Thursday.”
“I know.”
Her monotone voice scares me. I’ve never heard her like this, but I know she isn’t in a good place right now.
“Valentina. Please, Love. I’m sorry.”
“Goodbye.”
I pull my phone down and see the call ended.
“No, no, no, no.”
I try to dial her back, but it goes all the way through to her voicemail.
I throw my phone across the room, not caring if it breaks. Because I already broke the girl I love, so nothing else matters.
Not my phone.
Not the wall it slammed into.
And especially not me.