Chapter 19
JAKE
Iadjust the camera, trying to get a better view. Her eyes are closed, and there’s movement beneath her comforter.
Yeah, she’s touching herself. Her fingers are between her soft thighs, and whatever she’s doing feels good based on how her neck arches back.
My hand moves to my jeans without conscious thought. I unzip them and pull my cock free, already hard, already leaking, already eager to come for her all over again. My eyes stay locked on the monitor as I wrap my hand around my shaft.
Where I can’t see what she’s doing, my imagination fills in the scene for me. I bet she’s got her fingers on her clit, rubbing little circles over it the way she likes. I bet she’s wet, soaking her shorts, dripping down until she’s all slippery and delicious.
I bet she’s thinking of me taking her—of me pinning her down like I used to and pushing into her while I covered her mouth so no one would hear her scream my name. Of me dropping to my knees and licking her.
I remember the sounds she used to make when I ate her pussy in the back of my truck—desperate little whimpers that made me so hard I thought I'd come in my jeans.
My hand moves faster.
I'm lost in this—lost in watching her. Lost in the certainty that she's touching herself while thinking about me.
Wanting me.
And then her other hand slides under the strap of her tank top. I can see her hand playing with her nipple. Her head presses back on her pillow, her teeth biting her lower lip.
I know what she looks like when she comes, and I know she’s close. “That’s it,” I encourage her softly, pumping myself harder, faster. “Make yourself come.”
Her body arches up, her hips undulating under the covers, and I know she’s coming. I groan. If I were there, I’d watch her bring herself off. Maybe I’d slide a finger or two inside her. Maybe I’d lick her clit as her fingers played with it.
“Fuck.” My orgasm hits strong, and I have to brace myself against the workbench to stay upright. It's even more intense than the shower—raw and desperate and consuming.