Page 82 of Devious Lies (Cruel Crown)
Drawing my knees together, I kneeled and brought my fingers to my mouth, my heart threatening to escape my chest in the darkness. I could taste myself on my tongue as I slid three fingers past my lips and imagined Nash standing above me, feeding me his hard cock.
I whispered around my fingers, “I’m sorry for disobeying you.”
Jesus.
I was so turned on. Relinquishing control drove me crazy. I wanted to feel dominated, overpowered, fucked so thoroughly I couldn’t walk. Even with a knife to my throat and the threat of death dangling above me, I would never admit it was because rough, hard sex reminded me of how Nash fucked.
My first orgasm from sex.
My only orgasm from sex.
And I was so wet thinking about him, I could feel it sliding past my lips. I picked up my phone and squeezed my thighs together, trying to bring relief.
Durga: I can taste myself on my fingers.
Benkinersophobia: Describe the taste to me.
Durga: Light… Almost like nothing, but with a hint of citrus and vanilla from my body wash.
Durga: I like the taste.
Benkinersophobia: Pull out the vibrator I sent you, connect it to the app, lay on your back, and let me fuck you raw. Text me when it’s inside you.
I reached for one of my boxes stacked in the corner, blindly fished out the vibrator Ben had sent me ages ago, and connected it to the company’s app. Ben had full access to the app, which meant he could control it from wherever he was.
Laying on my back, I rubbed the tip on my nub before sliding the entire length inside me.
Durga: It’s in me.
My fingers clenched the sheets as the vibrator came to life inside me. It pulsed to a steady rhythm, and just when I was close, Ben slowed the vibrations until I wanted to scream.
Benkinersophobia: Not so fast.
Durga: Ass.
Benkinersophobia: Beg me to make you cum.
Durga: Please.
Benkinersophobia: Please, what?
Durga: Please, make me cum.
He turned up the speed, the ribbed edges creating friction that had my eyes rolling back. I brought my hands to my breasts and squeezed, flicking each of my nipples, remembering how it felt to have Nash staring at me.
Staring at them.
My breaths fogged the tiny room. They came out in uneven pants. I came so hard, screaming Nash’s name, too exerted to even feel guilty. My arms moved like jello, but I forced myself to slide the vibrator out of my body and turn it off.
When I came down from the orgasm, I shot Ben a text.
Durga: Thank you.
Benkinersophobia: Fuck, I needed that.
Durga: I’m sorry I came to your words with Nash’s face on my mind. Nash’s tortured faced with the fucked-up childhood, and the scarred body, and the dead Dad. Nash, who sacrificed himself for his family and was hurt because of mine. I’m sorry I love you but get wet for Nash.
I didn’t send the last message.
