Page 404 of Face Off
The sound she makes strips away what remains of my control. I stroke harder, my thumb spreading moisture across the head while I imagine replacing her fingers with mine. I know the exact angle capable of making her hips leave the mattress and the pressure that turns her voice into something raw.
“Did you find it?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Press harder.”
She cries out.
“Again.”
Her fingers move faster. I can hear the bed beneath her, the slick rhythm between her thighs, and every breath she has stopped trying to control. My name leaves her repeatedly, and nothing has ever sounded more like possession.
“What are you doing?” she demands.
“Stroking my cock.”
“How?”
“Hard enough that I’m trying not to come.”
“Stop trying.”
“I’m not finishing before you.”
“I want to hear you lose control.”
The command inside her voice pulls my fist harder along my shaft.
“You used to make me wait,” she says.
“I still would if I were there.”
“You aren’t, so tonight I want every sound you make when I get you off.”
Her confidence hits me harder than the words. Charm has never hidden her desire from me, but she has always watched my reaction after revealing it, searching for reassurance that wanting too much hasn’t made her undesirable. Tonight, she demands what she needs and trusts me to survive the force of it.
“You think you’re getting me off?” I ask.
“I can hear how hard you’re breathing.”
“That proves nothing.”
“It proves you’re close, and I want to hear exactly what you sound like when you come because of me. Don’t you dare hide it.”
“Careful, mamacita.”
“I’m finished being careful with you.”
The declaration tightens every muscle through my stomach.
“Then earn what you want.”
“How?”
“Take your fingers out.”
She gives a frustrated whimper but obeys.
