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The fire he stoked inside me earlier still burns. I wish I could be the person who does what he says. Who’d touch herself thinking about him and then text him with all the intimatedetails. Even now, images of the concentrated look on his face imprints in my brain. His cut body. Quickly, I get carried away, thinking of how he’d own me, worshipping every square inch of my skin.
I rearrange the pillow under my head. Get it over with, my brain says.You know you’re going to. Denying yourself this when he won’t even know if you did or not is stupid. What point are you trying to prove?
The other half of me wants to remain steadfast, refusing to give in because I’m probably just a fun fling for him.
I turn my head to find the black card on my nightstand. Sure enough, it has my name on it. Raeann Gorman. I don’t know what his limit is, but I’m definitely curious. No way am I ever going to use it, but a part of me is also wondering how much of a fling I am if he’s giving me a black card attached to his credit. There’s zero chance he does this for several girls, let alone one.
A flash of heat swamps me when I remember the way he slid it past my dress, grazing my breast.
I groan. Even the sheets on me feel like intimate touches at this point.
My fingers trail nonchalantly across my stomach, and before I even have the conscious thought, they travel lower. Over my belly button, right to my panty line.
Maybe I just brush over the panties.
I push my knees out, leaving me open, still wrestling with myself until the reminder of the gentle stroke of his cock pressed into my ass pops up again.
I moan, moving my finger to my clit, biting my lip to keep the noise of relief in check.
I circle my nub slowly, drawing the feeling out, fantasizing that it’s actually Micah touching me. The words he would say to me. I imagine him whispering into my ear, his taut body against mine.
But despite wanting to take it slow, my finger moves faster. The friction of my panties makes my heart rate skyrocket. I’ve always been able to make myself come quickly. No matter how many times I try to slow myself down, I keep circling and circling, my breaths coming out in pants.
“Text me,”he’d commanded.
I think not.This is for me.
I picture him parting my legs and tasting me. His attention fast and ferocious.
Oh my…
My hips move into my finger.God, I need this.
My other hand reaches for my breast, stroking my nipple. For some reason, just my finger isn’t cutting it today. I want more. I want everything he promised. I want to be taken care of, starting with this. I want his tongue on my clit and for him to eat like it’s his last meal. I want him to worship me.
I groan in frustration, my whole body vibrating. I’m so primed and ready. Dear God, I want it.
But there’s something lacking. The way he made me heat just with words. The places he took my mind.
“Micah…” I whine.
Briefly, I think about calling him, letting him hear what he started and can’t finish, but I have too much pride for that. I won’t beg for a man.
I bite my lip harder, slowing my movements and focusing on my clit. My toes curl into the mattress.
In my head, I give in.Please fuck me,I breathe.Please. Fantasy Micah complies, pumping his long cock inside me, hitting that spot. Tension radiates from me, making my movements jumpy.
I’m so close.
Please, I cry desperately in my head.Harder!
My fingers swirl faster again, this time with momentum behind them. Micah in my brain smirks down like he knew what he was doing all along.
Come. Hard, he demands.
A silent scream leaves my mouth as I convulse. My pussy contracts over and over, as if it’s stuck in a perpetual state of pleasure…until it finally releases along with the breath I held in my chest. Then I lie back on the bed, spent, panting.
He’s so in my head. Damn.