Chapter 22 #2
“Is this your show or mine?” I asked, though I put my hands over my chest and loosened my elbows, letting the dress slip a bit, revealing most of the upper curves of my breasts.
“Mine,” he growled, giving me the sense he wasn’t talking about the exhibition I was about to put on.
I let go of the dress, and it sluiced down my body. With it pooled around my feet, I was left in only white, sheer lace panties. Cool air caressed my nipples, tightening them to peaks.
“Fuuuuuuck,” Lane groaned then shoved his fist against his mouth.
Lifting my hand, I trailed the tips of my fingers over my hip, up my stomach, and higher. Through the valley between my breasts, stopping when I met the teardrop pendant at the end of my necklace. Toying. Waiting for Lane’s next instruction.
“Panties off.”
I dipped my thumbs into the waistband at my hips and slowly teased them down until they cleared my quads and dropped to the floor.
Lane’s gaze focused on the apex of my thighs, and I was grateful I’d taken an everything shower earlier. My pussy was smooth and bare, and Lane’s mouth popped open slightly in awe.
A girl could get used to having a man as sexy as him look at her like that.
“Get on the bed.”
Turning, I climbed onto the mattress slowly, spreading my legs and glancing over my shoulder at him. I was soaked, and I wondered if he could tell from across the room. By the way his eyes darkened, how his tongue darted out to trace a slow path across his bottom lip, I knew he could.
I settled in the middle of the mattress on my back, reclined against the pillows and angled slightly so he’d have a front row seat of everything from his perch in the corner.
Parting my legs, I put myself on full display for him.
“Sutton.”
My name was a plea. A prayer.
“Now what?” I asked, my voice hoarse.
I was painfully aroused, my pulse throbbing in my clit, my nipples hard enough to cut glass.
“Put your hands where you want mine.”
How could I even choose where to begin? I wanted his hands everywhere. Maybe not right now, but…soon.
Starting with my boobs, I massaged them lightly with my fingertips, the pressure of my palms against my nipples sending a spark of electricity to my clit.
“Like this?” I teased.
“That’s a real good start, sunny,” he mused. His voice was a low, husky rasp that scraped across my skin, a poor imitation of what I knew his hands would feel like on my body. “But I was thinking lower.”
I brushed my hands down my sides, pausing briefly to dip a fingertip into my belly button. “Here?”
“Touch your clit, Sutton.”
“Touch your cock, Lane,” I parroted.
I’d been joking, tossing out an off-the-cuff quip, but Lane surprised me by obeying.
His hands flew to his shirt, unbuttoning it and letting it hang open, revealing the full breadth of the tattoos that covered every inch of his torso that I could see.
Then he moved to his belt, deftly undoing it, sliding it free, and tossing it across the room.
In a beat, he had his fly undone, pants and boxers shoved halfway down his thick thighs, only far enough for his fully erect cock to bob free.
Holy hell, I’d forgotten how big he was.
He curled one of those broad palms around his shaft and stroked once, twice. A low moan left him as he squeezed himself at the base, and I swear I felt a gush of desire coat my thighs.
“Your turn.”
There was no hesitation as my fingers delved into my slit, gently parting myself before coming to settle over my clit. I started with light pressure, flattening three fingers against my bundle of nerves and circling slowly. I already teetered so close to the edge, I knew it wouldn’t take long.
Lane’s hand moved up and down his length at a similarly slow pace. For several long minutes, neither of us spoke. We merely watched each other across the room, my eyes darting from face to cock and back, gauging his reactions and movements.
I knew I could come like this, from the simplicity of my fingers against my clit, but something in me craved…more. Lane was hard as steel, the vein on the underside of his dick pulsing. What I was doing—what we were doing—was clearing doing it for him.
Rolling over toward the nightstand, I reached into the drawer and dug around for the vibrator I’d stashed there weeks ago but hadn’t used since I’d moved in.
“You gonna fuck yourself, sunny?” Lane asked when the toy appeared. His voice was barely above a whisper, teeth gritted, likely from the effort of holding himself back.
Instead of answering, I resumed my previous position and turned the toy on.
It was one of those ones with dual settings, one that controlled the vaginal stimulator and one that controlled the “rabbit” that nestled against my clit.
I turned on the vaginal portion and brushed it through my slit, coating it in my arousal before slowly pushing it inside.
Lane’s hand faltered, watching as I began to move the toy in and out.
My pace was languid with gentle thrusts, letting the pressure in my core build slowly.
I allowed my eyes to flutter shut, but Lane’s voice sent them flying open again.
“All the way up, sunny. The clit part too.”
With my free hand, I adjusted the rabbit so it sat perfectly against my clit, then moved down to the buttons.
“It won’t take long,” I admitted. I liked to think of this particular vibrator as superpowered. Even if I was cold and turned it on, I’d be coming within minutes.
Now? With Lane’s gorgeous, stormy blue eyes on me, his gorgeous cock in his own hand, getting himself off watching me get myself off?
It would take seconds.
As if taking my words as a challenge, Lane’s hand began to move over his cock again, faster than before. He raised his brows, waiting for me.
I clicked the button for the clitoral stimulator, and the sudden jolt of vibration to the bundle of nerves dragged a long, low moan from me.
“Feel good?” Lane asked.
My eyes were half-lidded as I stared at him, his hand moving faster now, jacking himself to match the pitch of the vibration from my toy.
“Incredible,” I gasped.
That delicious pressure built and built and built, and my arms shot behind me, hands finding the top of the headboard, needing to anchor myself. I could do nothing now but ride it out anyway.
I wanted so badly to close my eyes, to lose myself to the sensations, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Lane. His pecs bounced, abdomen tightened, his biceps bunched and flexed against the fabric of his shirtsleeves. The tendons in his neck strained with unreleased pressure.
He was mesmerizing.
“You gonna come for me, Chief?”
In answer, he stroked himself impossibly faster, mumbling, “Oh, fuck,” a moment before he released. I wanted to watch, to take it all in as cum spurted across his stomach and fist, but then my own climax hit.
My back bowed off the bed, my body going taut before the string snapped and I broke, the tidal wave of pleasure rolling through me like waves. I thrashed and twisted atop the sheets, moaning loud enough to wake the dead.
Finally, when I couldn’t take anymore, I ripped the toy free and tossed it to the side. Soon, the aftershocks ceased, and I lay there in a boneless, sweaty mess.
I’d almost forgotten I was alone until Lane appeared above me. He’d tucked himself away, though his shirt remained open. Bending over, he planted a kiss on my sweaty forehead.
“Fucking incredible,” he murmured against my skin.
I had no idea what possessed me to do it, but I wanted to share this with him, more than simply watching each other.
Lifting an arm that felt like jelly, I reached between my thighs and collected some of my arousal.
Lane’s eyes were wide, watching raptly as I lifted my fingers to his lips and painted my cum across them.
Without missing a beat, his tongue slowly traced the curve of his bottom lip then the top before he closed his mouth, eyes fluttering shut simultaneously. A low, deep grumble emanated from his chest as he savored me.
When his eyes opened again, they were hazy with unspent lust. I knew he could go again—could spend all night drawing pleasure from us both. But we weren’t there yet.
“Thank you,” he murmured, surprising me.
“For what?”
“For giving me that. I—fuck, I’d forgotten how beautiful you are when you come. How fucking delicious you taste.” He smacked his lips together, and I giggled.
“Thank you for making me feel safe,” I whispered.
“There is nowhere in the world you’re safer than with me, sunny. I hope you know that.” He stared at me imploringly until I nodded. Then he straightened. “Now I’m going to go downstairs before my hands take on a mind of their own and decide to drag a few more of those out of you.”
“We’ll talk in the morning?”
“Yeah. Good night, Sutton.”
“Good night, Lane.”