Chapter Six
I was washing my legs when my hand found the stubble, and I stopped with the soap halfway up my shin and stood there a second.
There was a disposable razor on the edge of the tub, there since the first week.
I picked it up, set one foot on the rim, and shaved.
Slow. Careful. Rinsing the blade between strokes, doing the second leg as slow as the first. The water went lukewarm before I was done, but I stayed under it anyway, the soap running down the drain in long gray ribbons.
It was drying off that got me.
I had the towel going down my shin when my hand took over, palm flat to the skin, up over the curve of the calf.
Smooth now, smoother than it had been in months.
I ran my hand up it again, slow. I imagined another hand making the same trip up the back of my calf, finding it soft the whole way.
I stood a minute with my hand on my own leg before I hung up the towel.
I got into bed naked and left the lamp on. The smell was honeyed and close, and if I was being honest, I was waiting for him.
I took the paperback off the nightstand and read the same paragraph four times without taking in a word.
The room went still around me, and I could feel him at my back. I set the book down.
“I know you’re here.”
The blankets slowly slid down my body to the foot of the bed, baring all of me to the cool air.
My nipples hardened and I shivered, but I lay still in the lamplight and let it happen.
My heart started to pound as a cold weight settled over me.
Covering every inch of my naked skin. Then a slow breath at my ear, moving down the side of my neck, and my body lifted off the pillow to meet it before I had decided to.
A moan broke out of me, low and helpless.
It moved down my throat, over the ridge of my collarbone, lower, closing over both nipples and tugging until they were tight and aching.
I arched into it, needing more. And the cold gave it to me.
It poured down my body to settle between my legs.
I eagerly parted my thighs, too far gone to care how I looked.
It slowly spread me open to stroke my swollen clit. My hips jerked, knees spreading wider.
“Yes,” I breathed.
It came again, stroking down the length of my slit, dipping inside my tight heat, before returning to my clit.
My thighs tensed, but I forced myself to stay still.
Patient. I was already soaked, my pussy clenching around nothing.
The pressure suddenly seized my clit, and a ragged cry ripped out of me.
It sucked at the swollen flesh, drawing the nub away from my body, only to release it and repeat the same torment again.
My thighs shook, but I forced them to stay open.
Terrified it would stop if I moved. But nothing could keep me from squirming.
My hips were bucking into the pleasure, even as I fisted the sheets to try and control myself.
“Please,” I gasped. “More.”
Finally, the suction latched on and stayed.
I cried out, my hips jerking uncontrollably.
Something prodded my slick entrance and shoved inside.
Deep, deeper than anything I had taken before, but the ache only added to the pleasure.
It massaged my inner walls as my clit throbbed from the harsh suction.
I thrashed, sobbing into the empty room as my body wound tighter and tighter.
It was too much and not enough, but there was nothing I could do about any of it.
Finally, I came with a scream, slickness gushing out of me as my body shuddered.
My pussy clamped down hard around the cool pressure, clenching over and over, as my back bowed off the bed.
The suction on my clit continued until I could barely breathe, and every exhale was a helpless cry.
Slowly, it eased and began to fade. The pressure inside me slipped free, leaving me a sloppy mess between my thighs.
I lay on my back, panting for breath and trying to make sense of what had just happened.
The sense of being watched didn’t fade, and neither did the sweet, smoky scent.
It took me a long time to stop shaking and turn off the lamp.
When I lay in the dark, sweat cooling on my skin, I stared up at the dark ceiling.
“Goodnight, Sam.” The house quieted around me, and sleep pulled me down.