Chapter Four
Abigail
Icouldn't remember the last time I'd made myself come. Married to John, sex was never about me. He'd tried, in the beginning. I don't know if he was inexperienced or he just didn't get it, but he never managed to make it good for me.
Fortunately, I knew how to take care of myself. But the last few months, since John had died, I hadn't exactly been feeling sexy. Now, lying in this bed, in Jacob's guest room, my own hands on my body felt foreign. Exciting.
I knew, instinctively, that Jacob would not approve. But I was tired and restless and very, very aroused.
Who knew when he'd be home? And even when he got back, what was to say he'd take care of me?
This arrangement wasn't about my needs. It might have reminded me of my marriage to John, if Jacob hadn't been a completely different man.
Based on my reaction to sucking his cock, I already knew I'd find more pleasure in this arrangement with Jacob than I ever had with John. That was great, but right now, I needed to come.
Cupping one breast with my right hand, I let my left slide down my torso and drop between my legs.
I was wet.
I couldn't believe how wet I was, even after taking a shower. Letting my mind drift, I wondered what Jacob would do with me when he got home.
Would he want me to suck him again? Or would he realize the fantasies I've had for years and fuck me until I couldn't walk?
I dipped one finger deeper between my legs, spreading the slick moisture up to my clit. Just a quick one. Jacob would never have to know.
Pressing and sliding my fingers over my slippery clit, I squeezed my breast, pinching my nipple hard, the way I imagined Jacob would do it.
The need inside me grew, my arousal a demand I had to answer. Giving in completely, I closed my eyes and imagined exactly what I wanted Jacob to do to me.
He would come home from work tired and distracted to find me lying here, naked in his bed. In my mind, this might be the guest room, but it was still his bed.
Everything in this penthouse belonged to Jacob, myself included.
He would see me here, my body exposed, my eyes hot and my pussy wet. He would come to the edge of the bed and begin stripping off his clothes.
First, his dark suit jacket, then his silk tie and his crisp white shirt. He'd undo the shirt buttons and shrug it off, baring his torso to my greedy gaze.
And finally, his hands would go to his belt. A flick of the leather. A button. A zipper.
The shove of two hands on fabric, and he would be naked.
I had to imagine his naked body, but I knew his cock already. It would be thick and hard, reaching for me.
My pussy clenched at the thought of Jacob's cock forcing its way into me.
He would grab me by my ankles and drag me to the edge of the bed, spreading my legs wide. It might've been a fantasy, but I could feel the demand as his eyes raked my body.
One second more, and he would drop to his knees at the end of the bed, fitting his cock to my pussy. He'd have to work to get inside me.
It'd been months since I'd had sex, and then only with John, who was nowhere near Jacob's size. My fingers squeezed my nipple and my clit at the same time, sending a jolt of white-hot pleasure arcing through my body.
I'd never much been into virgin and conqueror fantasies, but in my imagination, fucking Jacob would be like getting fucked for the first time.
There would be that painful stretch as he made room for himself inside my body. I knew it would hurt, and I didn't care. I wanted it. Wanted him. Wanted him to fill me up and fuck me until I lost myself in it.
At the thought of his strong body moving over me, his cock thrusting hard, the need in my body tightened. It wasn't enough.
I didn't want my hands. I wanted Jacob.
For now, this would have to do. Driving two fingers into my pussy, I ground my palm down against my clit, pressing in tight circles that pulled my rising pleasure and need into a tension that had to shatter before it cracked me in half.
I pulled my knees up around his phantom body and the imitation of sex, the familiar touch of my hand between my legs as the thought of Jacob set off my brewing orgasm.
Pleasure flowed through my body, erasing the stress of the day, the fear, the uncertainty, and the sheer exhaustion of worry.
The physical release of the fantasy combined with the reality of being in Jacob's home washed me clean. I dried my wet fingers on the robe, suddenly too tired to even think about getting up.
Pulling the thick duvet over me, I rolled over and let sleep take me under.