Page 124 of Unexpected Shot
“Yes,” I breathe out. But while it feels good, it’s not nearly enough.
“Pinch your nipple,” he directs. “I loved how your body reacted when I did that.”
I close my eyes, letting myself pretend it’s Beau’s fingers rather than my own as I do as he says. He’s right. My body does react to it. I never realized that before, but the simple motion sends a shot straight to my core, making my hips buck up ever so slightly.
“Keep those eyes closed, Belle,” I hear him say. “Normally, I want to see them open. I want to look into those deep blues and get lost in them. But right now? Seeing you take in every one of my words? Letting yourself relax? Pleasuring yourself? It’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”
“But I want to watch you.”
“You won’t miss the show,” he says, promise laced through his voice. “Now keep those eyes closed and do every single thing I tell you.”
My brain has to have given up by now, because I don’t even try to wrestle with the decision.
“Yes, Master.”
The name slips from my lips. The nickname he wanted me to call him during our back and forth games of pool during our drunken wedding night. Long before the apparent dare. Long before me pouring my heart out to him. Long before I said “I do.”
But I don’t regret saying it. I don’t feel embarrassed or even ashamed. If anything—and I don’t know where this is comingfrom—I want to keep calling him that. Because if the groan he’s giving me from hearing that name translates to the orgasm I’m about to have, then that’s what I call positive ROI.
“Oh, Belle…I like that name. I like that name a lot,” he rasps.
I wish I could open my eyes now, because I have a feeling his stroking motion has picked up speed.
His voice is deeper, huskier as he asks, “Are you going to say that to me every time I give you a direction?”
“Yes, Master.”
“That’s such a good girl of you,” he praises. “Now take one of those hands down. Slide those panties off so I can see how wet you already are.”
“Yes, Master.”
I do as he says, keeping my eyes shut as I try to be as sexy as possible as I slide down the pair of boy shorts I opted to sleep in tonight.
“Fuck, Belle…you look so fucking perfect. Play with that clit for me. Show me how you like it.”
I don’t answer him, desperate to let my fingers do whatever they can to give me some relief. That should be response enough for him, right?
I’ve long thought about traveling with one of my vibrators—I have a few discreet ones that I feel would likely pass easily through TSA—but I’ve never pulled the trigger. If this is now an option when Beau and I are on the road, however, maybe I’ll reconsider.
Unless I play like shit tomorrow and it wasn’t the sex that put us over the top last time. Then I don’t need to worry about it.
But I have a feeling that’s not going to be the case.
“Do you want more, Belle?”
“Yes, Master,” I say, needing to glue my eyes shut, because all I want to see right now is his brown eyes burning through the phone and into my body.
“Two fingers. In and out. Nice and slow.”
I follow his directions, letting my two digits fill me out as best as they can. The problem is, I want more. I need more.
I need Beau.
“My dirty girl, did you add a third on your own?”
I furiously nod my head, because at this moment, I don’t know words. All I know is the feel of my fingers alleviating the pressure that’s been building for the past week and the sound of Beau’s voice talking me through every step.
“Do you want more?”
