Page 10 of Tempting Kat (Lust & Luxury #2)

Katarina

I 'm so fucking turned on I could scream.

The door to my apartment slams behind me as I kick off my shoes, sending one flying into the wall with a satisfying thud. My entire body is humming, and I'm pissed off in ways I can't even explain.

Stomping through my tiny living room does little to appease me.

The ride home in that fancy-ass car was torture. The leather seats reminded me of his voice—rich, smooth, and expensive. I spent the whole ride trying to ignore the throbbing in my pussy. It’s like that bitch has her own heartbeat and we were not in sync.

Who the fuck pays six figures to rub someone's legs and bail? And why am I so fucking worked up about it?

I throw my phone and keys onto the kitchen counter and march straight to my bedroom, peeling off my top and flinging it across the room. My shorts follow, then my bra, until I'm standing in just my black thong, staring at myself in the full-length mirror hanging on my bedroom door.

My reflection stares back, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide. I look exactly how I feel—frustrated, horny, and ready to combust.

Yeah, fuck this. Hooking my thumbs into my panties, I pull them off.

I climb onto my unmade bed, not bothering with straightening the sheets. The cool air hits my overheated skin, making my nipples harden instantly. I can already feel how wet I am, and I haven't even touched myself yet.

Reaching over to my nightstand, I yank open the drawer and grab my favorite vibrator. I flop back against the pillows, spreading my legs wide, making sure I can see everything in the mirror.

This is what that fucker is missing and it serves him fucking right.

I'm soaked already, embarrassingly so. All from some mysterious asshole with massive hands and a voice like aged liquor. I didn't even see his face, for fuck's sake.

But those hands. Jesus Christ, those hands.

I click the vibrator on, starting with the lowest setting, teasing myself as I circle it around my clit. My hips buck involuntarily, and I lock eyes with myself in the mirror.

Sliding the toy lower, I push it inside me with a groan that echoes. My free hand moves to my breast, pinching my nipple hard enough to blur the line between pleasure and pain.

All I can think about is him, Mr. Gallo. The way his fingers felt on my skin, firm and knowing, like he could read every thought in my body through his fingertips. The rough calluses on his palms that dragged along my flesh.

Moaning, I push the vibrator deeper, imagining those giant hands spreading my thighs wider. Would Mr. Gallo be rough or gentle? The way he massaged my legs suggests he knows exactly how much pressure to apply, where to touch to make me squirm.

Turning up the vibration to the next setting, my back starts to arch off the bed. My eyes flutter closed as I picture his face. I don’t even know what he looks like, but in my mind, he’s got a sharp jawline and dark eyes, watching me intently as I fuck myself with this toy in front of him.

“You like that, kitten?” I can almost hear his gravelly voice, and the memory of it is enough to make my walls clench tighter.

My hips rock against my hand, chasing the pressure. But then my mind shifts, and suddenly I'm thinking about my other stranger—Mr. Mysterious with his perfect ass and his stupid fucking peach napkin.

God, I bet he’d watch me do this also. His dark blue eyes locked on where the vibrator spreads me open.

What if they both watched me at the same time?

My body gives it away how much it likes that idea as I feel my wetness dripping down between my ass as I fuck myself harder.

My thighs start to tremble as I picture Conrad kneeling between them, that mouth replacing the toy.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I pant, grinding against the vibration. But then Mr. Gallo's hands are back in my mind—those huge, rough palms that could probably span my entire waist. What would they feel like gripping my hips? Pinning me down while he?—

My free hand moves from my breast to my clit, rubbing circles with the pressure I love as I switch between fantasies.

Mr. Gallo, growling filthy praise in my ear while his fingers dig into my flesh.

Mr. Mysterious, his cool composure finally breaking as he loses control inside me.

Both of them fucking teases, making me wait, making me beg.

Rolling onto my stomach, I reach back into my drawer and my fingers find exactly what I’m looking for. My favorite dildo —thick, ridged and just the right length to hit every spot that makes me see stars.

Pulling the vibe out, I position the silicone cock at my entrance. In my mind, Mr. Gallo is behind me, his hands gripping my cheeks, spreading them wide as he watches me sink down and take every inch.

I press my face into the pillow; ass raised in the air as I fuck myself with the toy. The vibrator finds my clit again, and the dual sensation has me gasping.

“Look at you, taking both of us so well,” Mr. Mysterious whispers in my fantasy, his voice cool and controlled even as he loses himself in my body.

The image of both men using me at once sends electricity shooting through my veins. Mr. Gallo's thick cock stretching my pussy while Mr. Mysterious takes my mouth, both of them holding me in place, using me for their pleasure while making sure I get mine.

“Harder,” I moan to my imaginary lovers, fucking myself faster with the dildo and grinding against the vibrator. “Fucking wreck me.”

My thighs start to quiver as heat builds at the base of my spine. I'm so fucking close, right on the edge of what feels like it might be the most intense orgasm of my life when my phone lights up on my bed, inches from my face.

I reach for it with my free hand, still fucking myself with the dildo, and see it's a private message from Infinity.

Mr. Gallo.

My heart nearly stops as I click to open it.

Are you playing with that pretty ass pussy kitten? What if I told you that you couldn't cum? Would you obey or would you end up deserving a punishment next time I see you?

“Holy fucking shit.” How the fuck did he know? Was he watching me somehow?

The thought should terrify me, but instead it's the final push I need. My orgasm crashes through me like a tidal wave, my entire body convulsing as I squirt all over my thighs and sheets. The dildo slips from my grasp as my muscles clamp down, waves of pleasure making me cry out into my pillow.

I collapse onto the wet sheets, panting like I’ve run a marathon.

When I finally stop shaking, I stare at my phone, a cold chill replacing the heat that just consumed me. What the actual fuck? How did he know? I quickly scan my bedroom for cameras, hidden surveillance, anything that might explain this freaky sixth sense.

My phone buzzes again.

No, I'm not secretly watching you. I'm just a very good judge of what someone is doing. A man in my position develops certain…intuitions.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, still skeptical but slightly relieved. Another message appears before I can respond.

Now I hope you sleep well. I know I will knowing I got to touch you and even if only in your imagination tonight, I got to fuck you and make you cum.

Oh, I am so fucked. I drop my phone like it's suddenly burning my hand.

Not just physically fucked—though I definitely just had one of the most intense orgasms of my life—but mentally fucked.

This guy has crawled into my head after touching nothing but my legs, and now I'm masturbating to the thought of him while he somehow psychically tunes into my horniness from across the city.

I roll off the bed, grimacing at the wet spot I've left on my sheets. Great, I wasn’t planning on having to go to the laundromat this weekend.

Stripping the bedding with angry yanks, I ball it up and toss it by the hamper. The dildo and vibrator get unceremoniously dumped into the sink for cleaning later. Right now, I need a shower to wash away the sweat and arousal and confusion coating my skin.

Under the hot spray, I scrub myself roughly, as if I could somehow erase the phantom touch of hands that never actually explored my body. The water sluices down my body, and I can't help but imagine Mr. Gallo watching me, his eyes taking in every drop caressing my skin.

By the time I step out of the shower, my skin is pink from the heat and scrubbing. I wrap a towel around myself and pad back to my bedroom, leaving wet footprints on the hardwood.

My phone glows with another notification.

Sweet dreams, kitten. Until Saturday.

I stare at the message, my heart doing a weird little flip in my chest. This is just business, I remind myself. He's paying for my time, not my feelings. The fact that I got off thinking about him is just…biological. Chemistry. Nothing more.

And then there’s Conrad who snuck into my head, into my fantasy just to play mental yo-yo with me because being mentally fucked by one man isn’t enough. Just add to the roster. Bounce me back and forth like a damn ping-pong ball.

After pulling on a clean tank top and panties, I grab my extra sheets and make my bed. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m sliding down a dangerous slope.

One where the line between fantasy and reality blurs.