Page 22 of Afterglow (Ottawa Regents #3)

Hello, Police? I’d Like to File A Report

Behraz

I want Fletcher Donovan to catch me.

I want him to know how fucking crazy horny he makes me by merely existing. Too bad he’s not around. And my favorite purple vibrator is nowhere to be found. I compromise on a set of nipple clamps and a slightly smaller blue silicone dildo. At least it vibrates.

All sweaty clothing of the day stripped and tossed to the floor, I sit my bare ass on the mattress and lean against the headboard.

Licking my thumb and forefinger, I use them to work my nipples until they’re hardened peaks between the metal bar piercing them.

Getting the barbells helped recover the sensitivity lost when my boobs grew to their full size, but I’d already discovered clamps and didn’t want to give them up.

To accommodate for the piercings, this specific set connects with a delicate silver chain, somehow harsh and feminine at the same time.

I spit to slick and tweak one side until my nipple shrinks enough to attach the clamp, then the other, sighing at the sting of pain they cause.

This dildo isn’t as big as the rabbit, and doesn’t stretch my mouth to the point of pain as I usually like.

I do my best to wet it before turning on the vibration and moving it over each nipple, wishing it were Fletcher’s rough hands instead.

The buzzing coaxes goosebumps from my skin, and I widen the stance of my bent legs to slide the tip past the split of my cunt.

Arousal pools as I circle my clit, spreading the slick wetness over the sensitive, raised bundle.

I bite back a moan and press the button again, upping the speed one level.

The jolt is so strong, my head knocks into the headboard.

A harsh squeeze to my breast induces a loud, achy wince. “Fletcher,” I gasp.

“Fuck me,” he replies.

My eyes fly open and immediately wrench shut, because there’s no way the universe acted that fast over a wish.

But when I reopen them, he’s still there.

Shirtless, panting, cock straining against the fabric of his sweats.

His hands tear at his hair before dragging down his face. “What’re you fucking doing to me?”

Momentary panic has blood pulsing in my ears. Get it together. You wanted this, Bea. The universe has given it to you; now make the best of it.

“To you? I’m doing it to me . I need this.” I swipe the length of the toy through the wet layers of my pussy. “Wanna watch?”

“ God , yes.” The man whimpers and folds at the foot of the bed, holding himself upright on his hands, bowing toward me. It offers the most incredible view of his bare, heaving chest. His arms flex with restraint. “You think about me, Bea? When you touch yourself?”

“All the fucking time,” I reply, thrusting the toy inside me at a languid pace. “I want it to be you.”

“Fucking hell.” His hips buck against the mattress, seeking contact. They match the speed of my thrusts, every roll straining the muscles in his torso.

“Oh, my God,” I whine. “You’re so hot.” He grunts when I pick up the speed, plunging the toy through my pussy again and again. “You think of me, too?”

“Always,” he heaves out.

My eyes stay on him, the synchronous rhythm taking me to the blissful edge of a massive cliff at a mind-numbing speed.

His cock leaks, leaving a wet spot against the grey fabric of his pants.

“That’s right. Get that dick wet for me.

” I pump the silicone dildo deeper, increasing the vibration speed to its max.

“Fuck,” he grumbles through his teeth. The sinews in Fletcher’s neck go so taut I’m afraid they’re gonna snap. “I’m gonna come, Bea.”

“Want you to. Let go.”

The swollen, red crown of his cock glistens over his waistband, spilling his release onto my pale pink sheets. He bellows a guttural groan. A jarring orgasm rolls through me at the sight. I release the clamps, the aftershocks so strong I nearly black out.

“That was,” Fletcher mumbles, awestruck, “the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

I’m suddenly aware of my naked display and attempt to hide myself with my limbs. I’m not embarrassed about my body, but a part of me wonders if it’s too much, too soon for him. We agreed to take it slow.

He answers by picking up the toy from the bed. “Can I use this on you?”

I would have never expected it. Bashful, blushing Fletcher Donovan asking to fuck me with a dildo. “Right now?”

“Right now.” Neediness shakes his tone. “Teach me how you like to be touched. How to play with you, with this.” He holds out the toy. I’m never gonna stop being wet at this point.

“Put it in your mouth,” I urge.

Fletcher’s eyes flutter shut with a moan as he sucks my cum from the silicone. “Now what?”

“Turn it on.” It buzzes to life. “Feed it to me.” He crawls closer on his knees and pushes it between my lips. I gag when it goes too deep. His hazel eyes gleam with wonder. “Where do you want to touch me, Fletcher?”

“Everywhere.”

“Then do it.”

He slides the toy down my chest, the vibrations against my sternum hardening my nipples once more.

It circles my belly button before traveling lower.

I seek something to grab, bracing myself.

One hand lands on Fletcher’s toned arm. The other clutches the top corner of my pillowcase.

A bright red blankets his fair, speckled skin as he dips down, lifting a handful of breast to his warm lips.

He moans, pursing around a tightened peak, doting on it with gentle lashes, flicking the metal bar with his tongue before leaving it with a harsh suck.

“Oh, my God,” I groan. The rising pleasure sets fire to my skin.

Fletcher mouths the other side, mirroring his movements while drawing a line down my midsection. I wrap a hand around his wrist to guide him, urging the toy through the cleft of my pussy. My legs splay to allow entrance, but he doesn’t push the fake cock in.

“Fucking look at you,” he laments through a sigh. “You’re fucking perfect.” The praise has me impatient for more. He rolls the toy over my clit, once, twice, three times, so calculated and unhurried, I almost can’t take it. “Where else can I touch you?”

“Inside me,” I plead. “Put your fingers inside me.”

He repositions himself, releasing the flesh of my breast to focus on my aching core. My hips lift when a slow drag of his callused finger teases the entrance. The walls throb, trying to pull the thick digit inside.

“Please, Fletcher.” I’m not beyond begging for this man. “Please.”

We gasp in tandem as one finger glides in without resistance.

“Fuck.”

The rumbly curse and heightened speed of the vibrator on my clit make me clench around his inserted finger.

His eyes grow and flutter with every lazy drive in and out. “You feel incredible.”

“Fletcher—don’t stop. You’re doing so well.”

He hisses while pushing a second finger in, stretching my walls with the combined width. I let out a shameless moan. My eyes roll back when he moves them against the front wall of my cunt, unceasing vibrations over my clit rocketing me to the climax.

“I’m so fucking hard, Bea,” he whines. “I’m gonna come again just from seeing you like this.” But he doesn’t stop. Instead, he presses the head of the silicone toy at the highest speed, right into the hood of my clit, quickening the movements of his fingers inside me.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant, arching from the bed as I spiral, tensing and shuddering without any semblance of control. A lilted cry of his name escapes me. Then, a sudden, surging stream.

When my vision returns, I’m wetter than usual. Shit.

Fletcher’s jaw hangs open. “You…you…”

“Oh, fuck.”

The pale pink of my sheets darkens to mauve. My hands rise to my sweaty, heated, embarrassed face. I squirted on this man the first time he fucked me with his fingers. He’s probably shocked. And disgusted, he’ll never want to be around me again.

“Unreal.” Fletcher leaves a kiss on the inside of my bent knee. I jolt, still recovering from the orgasm. “Can…Can I eat you out?”

I simper.

Hello, police? I’d like to file a report against Fletcher Donovan. He’s trying to kill me in broad daylight.

“Please?” His lush lips graze my inner thigh, nipping at the sensitive skin. “I’m dying to know how you taste.” My brain is empty. No words form in the post-orgasm haze. “Teach me, Bea. Teach me how to go down on you.”

“Let me get cleaned up first.” I go to straighten, but Fletcher stretches a hand across my stomach, the firm shove back to my reclining position low-key dominating. Hot.

“Later.”

“But—”

He butterflies my legs and pins them with a gentle pressure, sliding down the bed until he lies on his front. “I want you to come all over my face like that.” The filthy mouth on him. Surely this can’t be the same Fletcher Donovan who couldn’t speak to me for two weeks. “Tell me how.”

I don’t think I can. I’m too fucking turned on.

“Bea.” His lips draw the whisper onto my flesh, prickling it with his beard and closing in on the space between my legs. “Tell me where.”

My hand grabs a fistful of those incredible auburn strands atop his head, slotting his face exactly where I want him. “There.”

He noses through the trim hairs above the split of my pussy lips.

“T-tongue,” I stammer. He licks over my clit with a low moan. I gasp, grinding into him in response, but he keeps me spread open by circling his arms around my thighs. “Ssssuck.” He does, and I might as well be dead because heaven is having this man’s swollen lips on me. “Again.”

“Been dreaming about this for years, Bea.”

I twist and clench through a string of pitchy moans, fisting the sheets as he laps and laps and laps.

My head whips forward to see his brows pinched together in a desperate expression.

“Dreaming about how you’d taste, how you’d feel wetting my tongue.

” Another slow lash sweeps up my soaked cunt.

“ God , you’re so soft. Smooth. Like silk.

” He groans and sucks my clit, deliciously rough.

It catches me off guard. I hurtle through a blistering high, trembling in the aftermath as he cleans me with that wicked tongue.

Weightless and dizzy, Fletcher sends my heart into a tailspin when I catch him licking my cum from his engorged lips, his beard streaked with my sticky release.

He comes up for a searing kiss, coating my mouth with the sweet and slightly tart taste of myself.

It’s too much, and the room darkens. Fletcher shushes my protest and envelopes me in a familiar warmth and the steady drumming of his heartbeat.

The next morning, I wake to a series of texts.

Dreamboat

Hope you got some well-deserved rest, gorgeous

Dreamboat

Had to go to the gym early today, but I’ll be back soon to go down on you again

Dreamboat

I need you to drown me this time

Fucking hell.

This is how I die, isn’t it? I can see it now.

Behraz Irani, 27. Cause of death: spectacular cunnilingus.