Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
brIDGET
I’m lying in bed when the text comes in.
Declan
Thinking about you.
That's vague. You may have to be more specific. Me in the crowded streets of Ballyhock? When you braided my hair after I took my shower after the doctor’s appointment, or…?
Declan
When I had you on your knees before I told you what I wanted
No idea what you're talking about
Declan
You little brat, tell me you remember or I'll drive over to yours and give you a vivid reminder
Fine, I remember you being bossy as fuck about everything
Declan
Accurate. What else
You kept making me ask PERMISSION
Declan
You liked it
I blush. I very, very much liked it.
…
Declan
Where are you right now?
Bed. Why?
Declan
What are you wearing?
I snicker to myself.
Ballgown and tiara
Declan
brIDGET
Fine. Your t-shirt you may have left here
Declan
Oh my god. I love that visual. But I need you to take it off.
Sorry?
Declan
Now. Take it off and tell me when you've obeyed
My cheeks are already beginning to heat as I reach for the hem and pull it off. I slide under the covers.
Fine. Done. Happy now?
Declan
Not yet. Put your hands on your stomach
Oh gosh.
Declan. I'm tired
Declan
Not so tired you're not doomscrolling. I saw you online five minutes ago.
Stalker
Declan
Lover. Do what I say
Okay
Declan
Good girl
I’m definitely blushing.
Declan
Move your hand lower, love
This is hard to do while texting
Declan
Then prop your phone up and put your camera on and I'll do it in real time
DECLAN
Declan
Do it before I drive over there and whip your pretty arse for disobeying me
Don't threaten me with a good time
Declan
NOW. And respond properly or I'll tally how many smacks you're getting at the weekend
Yes, sir
He knows how to push my buttons and how to make me ache for him.
I put the phone on my bedside table just as his video call comes in. He’s in bed, naked from the waist up, his hair all tumbled and sexy, and his eyes on me.
“Are you wet?” he asks me.
“Might be.”
“Good girl. I want you to grab your nipples between your fingers and roll them. That’s right, baby, just like that,” he whispers. “What a good girl. I want you to make yourself come while I watch you.”
“I’m tired,” I say, but of course I’m not going to stop now.
The sound of his voice rolls over me, his dominance. I want this—I want him.
“Are you happy?” I ask him as I finger myself and grab my nipple. My hips rise off the bed, and I moan, getting there.
“Keep going. I want to know what you feel like right now.”
“You could come over.”
“I know,” he says, “but not tonight, baby.”
Why? Why does he always say that? “What were you saying?” I ask because my voice is getting shaky, and my eyes are growing hazy.
“I was saying I want you to touch yourself and think about my hand inside you instead of yours.”
“Oh, I miss your hand inside me.” I moan as I circle my clit and pinch my nipple, and my hips jerk.
“Is it working?”
“Little bit.”
“Liar,” he whispers, and that’s when I realize he’s alone in his room, and his hand is moving like he’s stroking his own cock. My need to come intensifies. “Close your eyes.”
So I do. I close my eyes and pretend he’s there. His voice rumbles over me, sexy as fuck.
“Remember the chair and what I did to you in that chair?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I want you to remember exactly how it felt when I had you in it: my hands, my mouth, the way I took my time, even when you were asking me not to.” He whispers, “Do your fingers feel good?”
“Not as good as yours, but they’ll do.”
“Good girl. Tell me when you’re close to coming.”
“I’m getting there. I guess pregnant women do like sex. At least this one does. When it’s with you.”
“I love that. That’s my girl. Just like that. Do it.” So I do. My hips rise, and pleasure builds until I’m moaning, my eyes closed, blissed out and orgasming under my covers.
“That’s it. Good girl, sweetheart. Just like that, love. That’s my girl.”
I’m spent on the bed, panting and tired, basking in the sound of his praise.
“My god, you’re beautiful. Do you know that?”
“You’d see me better if you were here,” I whisper.
“I know. Go to sleep, love. I love you.”
“Okay,” I whisper. “And I… I love you too.”
I thought it would feel different telling him, a monumental stance that obliterates whatever will keep us apart, but it doesn’t. I’m stating a fact as certain as the sun sets and rises. And it isn’t enough. If only it were enough.
I shut off the phone.
I want him here.