Page 67 of The Grump I Slept With
“Then you’d start writhing against the bed, asking me to touch you.Beggingme.”
I wanted so badly for him to touch me. I wanted him here, his hands on my body, his breath warm against my skin. I imagined him crawling up the bed toward me, all contained strength like a jungle cat on the prowl. I imagined the hungry look in his eyes as his cock pressed against my leg.
I shifted, letting my thighs part as my hand moved even lower. Finally, my fingers brushed over my clit, and I gasped.
“That’s it,” he growled. “Touch yourself.”
I stroked that soft bud, my lower lip caught between my teeth.
“Touch yourself the way I do,” he ordered.
I increased the pressure slightly, increased the speed, finding the rhythm that always got me off.
“Does it feel good?” he asked. “DoIfeel good?”
“Yes.” I swallowed hard, falling all too easily into the fantasy that it was his hand driving me wild.
“That’s right,” he said. “Work those perfect circles around your clit.”
I rocked up against my hand, thinking about the way he’d curl two fingers into me right about now. About how good it would feel as he started thrusting. I sucked in a strangled breath as that needy ache bled across my body, setting me on fire.
“I know you’re getting close,” Locke said. “I can hear those breathy little moans.”
“Ughhhh,” was all I managed as a shock of pleasure sparked across my abdomen.
“I know you wish I was there so I could fuck you,” he said. “I know you want my cock. You’re desperate for it now.”
I whined, my hand cramping as I increased the pressure on my clit. I imagined him lining up at my entrance and snapping his hips forward. Even without him there, my back arched in anticipation, wanting more. Ialwayswanted more when it came to him.
“Come for me,” Locke said. “Come against my hand. I want to feel that needy little clit pulsing.”
I cried out as the orgasm caught me, my entire body seizing up as the tingles of pleasure swept down my limbs. It was strongerthan I’d anticipated, leaving me breathless for a moment. “Oh, God.”
“I think you mean ‘Oh, Locke,’” he said.
I huffed a laugh as the daze lingered, my clit still pulsing against my fingers. I rode out the waves and the aftershocks, groaning as the tension abated, leaving me loose and relaxed. When it was finally over, I let my eyes flutter open.
“Did that take the edge off?” he asked.
I sighed heavily. Happily. “It was perfect.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Can’t have my girl going to bed unsatisfied.”
“I didn’t realize you were so adept at phone sex,” I said, a wave of exhaustion settling over me.
“You have much to look forward to,” he said. “I didn’t even get around to sending you any explicit pictures.”
I liked the sound of that. “You know, pictures can go both ways.”
He made a grunt of approval. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Well, then…maybe you’ll get a surprise tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait. G’night, Isla. I’ll message you in the morning.”
“Night, Locke,” I whispered, still caught in that post-orgasm bliss as we hung up. I rolled over, reaching for the body pillow again, pleasantly wrung out. But as my eyes landed on that half-empty side of the bed—the side I’d come to think of as Locke’s—I felt a stab of loneliness.
The phone sex had been great and fun, but snuggling into a body pillow afterward instead of his arms felt weirdly…hollow. It just wasn’t the same, and I drifted off to sleep satisfied yet oddly disappointed.
