Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 48632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
I settle in, eyes closing, and it doesn’t take me long to lose myself in the memories. Tonight, in the tiny alcove, our bodies pressed together. His presence exudes a dominance I’ve only experienced in the form of a book. The tips of my fingers touch the pulse point on my neck, the same area Matthew hovered his lips above, wishing he’d take it a step further even though my need to keep to myself and not drag anyone into my past sits right on the surface.
My other hand cups my breast, thumb rolling over the pebbled tip, while I watch as the water beads on my sensitive flesh. I’m thinking about Matthew in the shower, but instead of him being by himself, I’m there with him. I’ve got my hand wrapped around his thick cock and am stroking him to completion while swallowing down his low groans with my kiss.
My phone ringing has me sloshing water over the edge, the noise jarring me out of the moment, and when I glance at the screen, the unexpected name flashing makes me do a double-take. I’m also trying to figure out what I should do, answer it or not.
I hit the button, accepting the call, and put it on speakerphone. “Hello.” I’m breathless for two reasons: one, because I was about to make myself orgasm to the thoughts of Matthew, and two, answering this call has me twisted up with all kinds of emotions—elation, anxiety, wonderment, and even a smidge of excitement. He doesn’t have to know what I’m doing, right?
“Fuck, Letty.” Matthew doesn’t answer with any greeting besides one that only heightens my arousal.
“It’s late. What are you still doing awake?” I ask, wanting to hear his voice even if it is through the phone. This is a side of me I’m not sure I’ve ever thought about exploring.
“You didn’t respond to my text. Wanted to make sure you made it home safely.” I didn’t see an unread text after checking the group chat, but then again, my only mission was wine and a bath.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, Letty. Now, I’m thinking I interrupted you at exactly the right time. Tell me, kitten, what are you doing?” I hear the rustle of fabric. My thighs close automatically, and the water moves around me.
“I’m in the bathtub.” My eyes close while my fingers continue their lazy movements, swirling patterns along my neck and circling my pebbled nipple.
“I guess that’s only fair. Too bad I’m not there to watch you with my own eyes.” His voice comes out rough and rugged. “I’d rather have you in the shower with me next time. Now, tell me what you’re doing while you’re in the bathtub, wet and naked.” I lick my suddenly dry lips,
“I can’t believe we’re doing this. This is so wrong.” I’m betraying myself by uttering the lie.
“If it’s wrong, why does it feel so right, kitten?” I rock my hips, tighten my muscles, and roll my nipple between my fingers. Thank god, I had the forethought of using speakerphone. “I can imagine you right now, eyes closed, fingers doing what I want mine to do to you. Tell me, where is your hand right now? Is it playing with your pretty tits, or is it between your sweet-as-hell thighs? Thighs I want to bury my shoulders between while I suffocate myself with your intoxicating scent, and have you ripping at my hair while you come on my tongue.” I move from one nipple to the next, not ready for this to be over, the slow build-up. From my experience with a party of one, it makes the orgasm that much more extreme.
“Matthew,” I mewl, visualizing him here with me. And while eating me out in a tub could get pretty tricky, I’m sure he’d make it work by lifting my bottom half out of the water and licking every drop of wetness from me.
“My kitten likes that. First, tell me what you’re doing.” I can hear the rasp of the zipper on the other end of the line.
“Oh god, Matthew.” I’m at war with myself. This is going to lead to nothing but problems. It’s an issue for future Letty to deal with, because right now, the only thing I want is for this to play out. “My breasts. They’re so sensitive, probably more than ever.” I abandon the pulsing along my neck, ignore the throbbing between my legs, and cup my breasts until they’re out of the water.
“Fuck yeah. Slide your thumbs across the nipples. I bet they’re dusky rose, the same color as your lips, unless they’re darker, similar to how they turn after you’ve been biting and licking them. Soon, I’m going to slide my mouth over every inch of your body. Tell me one more thing before I guide you to more.” As Matthew’s words skate over my body, a shiver rolls through me, and I do exactly as he says. In fact, I don’t stop. Each rasp of my finger along my nipple makes me come alive even more.