Chapter 32 – Willa #2
“Get up on your knees, and spread your legs,” he instructs, and I do, shifting the cameras as needed.
“Yeah, just like that,” His voice is low with desire and sends another rush of heat through me.
“Slide the tip between your legs, get it nice and wet.” My breathing grows heavy as I do, not sliding it in like I really want, rubbing the tip along my center before sliding it up.
I give Leo a show, letting him see me rub the smooth head of the toy over my clit, and he growls.
“Fuck yeah. Now, put the base on the bed, between your legs.’ I position it, then hover over, holding my breath with anticipation, desperate to slam it down as I did on the swing all those weeks ago.
It won’t be nearly as satisfying without his fingers digging into my hips, but it will have to do.
“Slide on to it slowly, just an inch,” he says.
“Leo—” I protest
“Just the tip. That’s what I would do. Tease you for teasing me. I’ve been thinking about that picture all day, honey.”
“Oh god,” I whimper as I do as he asks. His eyes are locked on me, but I’m fascinated by his hand slowly stroking himself.
I watch as he moves it up and down the shaft, twisting a bit at the tip, his breath going light each time he does.
Mentally, I catalog it, filing that away as something he likes for the future.
“Just like that,” he says. “Now out. Then back in. Fuck yourself with just the tip, baby.” My hips lift and fall just a bit, a tease as he watches with utter fascination. My body screams, desperate for more, but despite it, I feel the pleasure curling in my belly, need almost suffocating.
In this moment, I realize I have been so completely and totally changed by Leo that I could probably come just like this. Minimal stimulation, but having the erotic privilege of watching him bring himself utter pleasure at the sight of me doing what he asks.
But still, I want more.
And he knows it.
That becomes clear when he speaks next.
“All the way down, baby. Take it all.” I don’t hesitate, and on my next drop, I fill myself, my hand moving up as my hips move down and I moan, loud.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck, look at you.” I can’t respond, not as I slide the dildo out and then back in, as I fuck myself, trying to get relief from the need spiraling in my belly.
“How does it feel, Willa?” he asks.
“So good,” I groan, hips rocking, hand moving. “So good. Not as good as you, but fuck.”
“I know, honey,” he murmurs, “I wish I were there, fucking you as you need. But this is good too.” His hand is moving fast, and after a moment, I realize he’s moving at the same rhythm as I am, like I’m riding him, and I moan before speeding up.
I’m riding it now, uncaring what I might look like, moaning as it fills me each and every time, the curved tip grazing along my g-spot with precision that has my breath stuttering, as the pleasure swirling in my stomach has me tipping towards the edge and doing it quickly.
“Stop,” he says, his voice low and gravelly, his own breath panting like mine.
Without hesitation, I do as he asks, my hand stopping with the toy deep inside of me.
My pussy throbs around it, and I desperately want to move, to take myself higher, to get myself there, but the desire to do what Leo asks is stronger.
“Pull it out.” I groan, already dreading the lack of fullness, but I do he asks regardless.
“On your ass, pussy facing the camera, let me see you.” I fumble, adjusting quickly until I’m sitting on the bed and angling the camera so it’s focused on my cunt, my head just barely making it on screen.
I spread my legs, feet on the bed on either side of the laptop.
“Wider.” I don’t ask what he means, simply spreading my legs wider, and I’m rewarded with a guttural sound.
“God, you look so fucking pretty like this, your cunt glistening, legs spread, your nipples tight. Pinch one, baby.” I do, and it sends a bolt of pleasure through me, centering on my clit that is desperate for attention.
“Fuck me,” he breathes, eyes locked on the screen, his hand moving faster, which, I have to admit, feels unfair. “The way you tighten is fucking fantastic.”
“Leo,” I whimper.
“What do you want, baby? What does my Willa need?”
“I want to fucking come,” I groan, my hips shifting with a mind of their own, trying to get something that isn’t even there. A deep chuckle fills the room.
“Okay, honey. Slide it back inside, then,” he acquiesces, and I nearly drop the toy in my effort to do as he asks.
I moan loudly as it slides inside, filling me deep and stretching me.
“Fuck, you taking that is almost as pretty as watching you take me.” I move the toy in and out, but it doesn’t touch the need in my belly.
“I want to rub my clit,” I whine, desperation in the words.
“Do what you want, baby. Make yourself come for me.” Relief glides through me as I move, one hand fucking myself hard and fast as the other rubs my clit.
A deep, guttural moan leaves Leo’s lips, and even though I want to close my eyes and give in to the pleasure swirling around me, I watch in utter fascination as he strokes himself hard and fast, tugging with much firmer strokes that I would use if I were there, low grunts leaving his lips with each movement.
I decide I’m going to hold out, then. I want the pleasure to wash over me as I watch him spill onto his belly.
“I want you to come, saying my name,” I whimper, hands moving feverishly as I watch, enraptured by the show he’s putting on for me.
“Fuck,” he groans, hips bucking into his hand, and I moan again. “You look so pretty fucking yourself. You want to watch me come, don’t you?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” I breathe, my eyes locked to the screen.
“Fuck, Willa,” he says, and then it happens, cum spilling from the tip of his cock, hitting his stomach, dripping over his hand as he moans loudly, continuing to stroke himself through his release.
With the visual, I follow, screaming his name, my body quaking as I fall back onto the bed, my hands still moving between my legs, but unable to hold myself up anymore as wave after wave of need and satisfaction roll through me.
When I return to reality, my hands move slower, and I catch Leo speaking.
Gorgeous. So fucking pretty. Perfect. Love you.
Eventually, I sit up, sliding the dildo out with a hiss, and Leo has some tissues, cleaning himself up.
He smiles at me, almost sheepish, before tipping his head to the side.
“Go clean up, honey, do what you gotta do to get to bed, but don’t get dressed.
Then go back into your suitcase and beneath your clothes, there’s a pink bag.
Grab it, but don’t open it up. Bring it here.
” I smile, eager for another prize, and follow his instructions without another word.
In record time, I clean myself up, wash my face, and brush my teeth before grabbing the pink bag that was also in my suitcase and bringing it back to the bed, sitting cross-legged, naked before the camera.
He’s settled himself into the bed, the screen in his lap, I think, the lights off now, only the glow of the screen lighting him up.
It makes my chest ache, knowing I’m not there to cuddle into his side.
“Open it,” he murmurs, and I do, and then my eyes water when I see what’s inside.
Shirts.
At least three of them. Leos’ oversized shirts, the ones I like to sleep in. I had stolen one, plus the other one I’d claimed as mine after my first night at the Mill, but I was already trying to figure out how to rotate them to sleep in them every night.
But it seems, as always, Leo thought ahead, giving me exactly what I need and want.
“Put it on, honey,” he murmurs, and I try not to cry, suddenly missing him so deeply, I don’t know how the hell I’m going to make it a full four weeks before I get to be with him for real again.
“I can’t believe you did this,” I murmur.
“We’ve got four weeks until you’re back here, and I’m going to make them as easy as we can. You can’t sleep here with me, but I want to be there with you, however I can.”
“And the dildo?” I ask with a laugh, sliding the shirt over my head and then shifting to grab my phone. When I see him again, a wide white grin is spread across his face.
“That was for me. I can’t last four weeks without hearing you mention my name.
” I shake my head, then quickly transfer the call back to my cell before moving through the house to close things up for the night.
Finally, I snuggle into bed, the lights off, and set the phone on the pillow beside me.
If I try hard enough, I can almost pretend he’s here with me.
Almost.
“All right, baby, tell me about your day,” he says, and I do, telling him about heading home after the meeting, Jackie coming over to catch me up on my schedule for the next week or so, and the argument we had about the wig.
I don’t tell him about the strange conversation in the car.
Leo already isn’t Jackie’s biggest fan, and I don’t want him to have any other reason to butt heads with her once we’re out in the open.
I need them both to be on the same page, since I don’t see either of them going anywhere for a long time.
“How was the date?” he asks, and I fight to keep my face neutral, since he can always read me so easily.
“Fine.”
He lifts an eyebrow.
“Fine?” I can hear him becoming more alert, and I force myself to take in a deep breath, to settle that uneasy feeling in my chest. It’s just that I have someone now, and because of it, it now feels icky.
I’ve always dated assholes and idiots, though I do think this one takes the cake.
At the very least, they usually have some kind of shame or appreciation for my help, knowing that, without me, their career is ruined.