28. Shelby #3
“Keep those eyes closed, Belle,” I hear him say. “Normally, I want to see them open. I want to look into those deep blues and get lost in them. But right now? Seeing you take in every one of my words? Letting yourself relax? Pleasuring yourself? It’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”
“But I want to watch you.”
“You won’t miss the show,” he says, promise laced through his voice. “Now keep those eyes closed and do every single thing I tell you.”
My brain has to have given up by now, because I don’t even try to wrestle with the decision.
“Yes, Master.”
The name slips from my lips. The nickname he wanted me to call him during our back and forth games of pool during our drunken wedding night. Long before the apparent dare. Long before me pouring my heart out to him. Long before I said “I do.”
But I don’t regret saying it. I don’t feel embarrassed or even ashamed.
If anything—and I don’t know where this is coming from—I want to keep calling him that.
Because if the groan he’s giving me from hearing that name translates to the orgasm I’m about to have, then that’s what I call positive ROI.
“Oh, Belle…I like that name. I like that name a lot,” he rasps.
I wish I could open my eyes now, because I have a feeling his stroking motion has picked up speed.
His voice is deeper, huskier as he asks, “Are you going to say that to me every time I give you a direction?”
“Yes, Master.”
“That’s such a good girl of you,” he praises. “Now take one of those hands down. Slide those panties off so I can see how wet you already are.”
“Yes, Master.”
I do as he says, keeping my eyes shut as I try to be as sexy as possible as I slide down the pair of boy shorts I opted to sleep in tonight.
“Fuck, Belle…you look so fucking perfect. Play with that clit for me. Show me how you like it.”
I don’t answer him, desperate to let my fingers do whatever they can to give me some relief. That should be response enough for him, right?
I’ve long thought about traveling with one of my vibrators—I have a few discreet ones that I feel would likely pass easily through TSA—but I’ve never pulled the trigger. If this is now an option when Beau and I are on the road, however, maybe I’ll reconsider.
Unless I play like shit tomorrow and it wasn’t the sex that put us over the top last time. Then I don’t need to worry about it.
But I have a feeling that’s not going to be the case.
“Do you want more, Belle?”
“Yes, Master,” I say, needing to glue my eyes shut, because all I want to see right now is his brown eyes burning through the phone and into my body.
“Two fingers. In and out. Nice and slow.”
I follow his directions, letting my two digits fill me out as best as they can. The problem is, I want more. I need more.
I need Beau.
“My dirty girl, did you add a third on your own?”
I furiously nod my head, because at this moment, I don’t know words. All I know is the feel of my fingers alleviating the pressure that’s been building for the past week and the sound of Beau’s voice talking me through every step.
“Do you want more?”
“Yes, Master,” I say, nodding furiously.
“Then go faster. Fuck yourself with your fingers and come all over them for me.”
My body doesn’t give me a choice to disobey. As if on command, I feel myself explode in a way I’ve never felt before. Sure, being with Beau last week was also on a different level, but when I get myself off, it’s usually just enough to say I did. To scratch the annoying itch.
But this? Holy hell, I feel like a new person.
I try to bring myself down, not sure how to when I’m physically shaking, but the sound of Beau’s voice brings me back to Earth.
“So fucking beautiful,” he says. “Now open your eyes, Belle. Time to watch what you do to me.”
I’m barely down from my orgasm, my body still shaking, as I see Beau start to come apart. His face looks like it’s pained, but also getting pleasure.
And I did that. I made him look like that. I made him look like he wants to crawl through the phone and do every single thing he could imagine to me.
“Say it again.”
I don’t need to ask what he means. “Yes, Master.”
“Yesssss!” The growl he makes is hot as fuck. And might possibly wake the person staying next to him. “That sounds so good coming out of your mouth. Are you going to call me that when you’re home? When I come up behind you and show you how hard you make me?”
I don’t allow myself to consider if he’s serious or not. I’m too in the moment. My brain is too short circuited. And at this point, I couldn’t tell him no if I wanted to.
“Yes, Master.”
“Fuck!” It’s the last thing he shouts before his release starts to coat his stomach. His hand doesn’t stop as he milks himself dry, letting every drop of cum leak onto his chest before I think he stops breathing.
My room is silent as we catch our breaths, both of us clearly trying to remember what time zone we’re in as we reposition ourselves on our beds.
“That was…” I let the thought go, because I don’t have words.
“Exactly,” he says, his boyish smile hitting me in the place I’m starting to think is a heart. “Same time tomorrow night?”
I laugh as I curl myself into a ball on the bed. “Only if we play better than we did today. Because if we don’t, then clearly this didn’t work.”
“Oh, we will,” he says with a wink for good measure. “I guarantee it.”