18. Sawyer #3
“The best way to make me come is a combination of light pressure on my clit and lots of attention to my G-spot.” She dips the toy in and out, angling it so the tip pushes against her G-spot.
“This is the only toy that can stimulate my G-spot and O-spot at the same time. Especially when I fuck myself like this.” Her grip tightens on the toy as she adjusts the angle, using shallow strokes so the flared head plunges in and out.
Younger me would have whipped out his dick and beaten off to the sight of this goddess before me.
Younger me would’ve blown his load in ten pumps.
Younger me wouldn’t have known how to truly please this woman and would’ve happily walked through life believing every fake moan meant she had a real orgasm.
Current me, who is older and wiser, isn’t taking this opportunity for granted. I take in every noise she makes, watching how her body moves when it’s experiencing actual pleasure at her own hands as I catalogue everything away for future exploration.
“I’m close. Fuck, Sawyer, I’m close.”
The sound of my name on her lips as she fucks herself with a replica of my dick is gonna live rent-free in my head every time I close my eyes.
“Yes.” I pause, waiting for her to look at me, to correct me. When her fiery gaze fixes on mine, I bite my lip, then growl. “Madame.”
She lifts a brow in challenge, and I hold eye contact, silently pleading for permission to do something. Anything. The need to touch her is strong.
“Shouldn’t your focus be elsewhere?” she taunts, still grinding against the toy.
“My focus is exactly where it needs to be, Ray.”
The nickname slips out, but the minute it leaves my lips, her eyes roll back in pleasure.
Should I be staring at her pussy? Probably? But I’m riveted by the look of bliss on her face.
“Sawyer. Oh fuuuuck,” she moans as her entire body shakes and she drops the vibrator, her finger still lightly circling her clit.
All I want to do is crawl between her legs and clean her with my tongue. I can’t tear my gaze away as her body slowly comes down from the high, her tits still heaving with each labored breath. She’s a fucking goddess, and I want to worship every inch of her.
A wide grin breaks out on her face. “Can you turn that off?” She curls onto her side with one hand between her thighs and the other propped under her head.
“Yes, madame.” I stand, groaning as my left knee pops. I reach across the bed, turning off the toy.
The room falls silent except for a quiet buzzing emanating from her nightstand. Her eyes flick to mine in confusion, so I reach over and open the drawer. A variety of toys are neatly laid out on a folded towel, and I scan them to find the culprit. “Holy fuck.”
“What?” She pushes up on her arm, peering up at me as I remove the bright pink toy and hold it up. “Jesus Christ. Are you kidding me?”
“You watched me walk out of the house with it. I put it outside in the trash can, and then I’ve been here with you the whole time,” I say as I turn off the vibrator.
“There’s a logical explanation.”
“Yeah, fucking ghosts.” I’m half joking, but my voice breaks slightly as I try to push down my nerves.
She sits up on the side of the bed, pulling on her robe. “We can solve this right now.” She stands, pushing past me as she leaves the room.
I follow her downstairs and outside as she walks with purpose, the dildo still clutched in one hand. When she throws open the lid, the discarded toy is nowhere in sight.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Her eyes narrow on me. “You’d nearly convinced me.”
“I swear! It was on top of that bag,” I say, pushing past her to get a better look in the bin. “Maybe it turned on again and flopped down to the bottom.”
“Do you hear yourself? ‘Flopped down to the bottom,’” she mimics me, her tone mocking.
Carefully, I pull bags out, trying to find the missing vibrator. Once the can is empty, I let out a heavy sigh. “It’s not here.”
“No shit, Sherlock. You probably tucked it in your back pocket and snuck it in the drawer when my eyes were closed. Is that why you asked for that little show? You were just fucking with me?” She tosses the toy into the trash and turns back to the house.
I quickly toss all the bags back in and scramble after her.
“Raven, I swear that’s not what happened.”
She spins on her heels, clenching her fists at her sides. “That’s the only logical explanation. How else would it end up back in my room?”
“Gho—”
“Don’t you dare fucking finish that word. And I found the one you hid in my purse when we were painting.”
“I swear, it wasn’t me. I’m not fucking with you.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “I think you should go. I have a deadline.”
“If that’s what you want.” I pull my keys out of my pocket, stalling to give her a chance to change her mind. Something flashes across her face briefly before she schools her features and nods toward my truck. “I’ll be back tomorrow at ten for the party.”
My feet are lead weights as I trudge to my vehicle and climb in the cab. Raven’s already gone when I look back at the house.