“I need it so I can get over you.”
“Over me?”
“If I have you, maybe I can finally put the fantasy to rest. I need you to treat me like you
treat them. I need to know that I mean nothing to you.”
“You think you mean nothing?” He crowded her space, sucking all the courage she managed to muster with only a few short steps.
“You don’t have to pretend you care.”
“Who’s pretending?” They weren’t the exact words she wanted to hear or at least the words that she’d rattled around in her brain for the last eighteen years.
“Are you going to give me what I want?” She pushed aside her fear, drawing strength from the bad girl that lived deep down in her psyche. Carrie knew what she had to do. “I’m more than happy to help.”
She sat down on the bed and slid up, resting her upper body on the mound of pillows at the head of the bed.
“What are you doing?”
Carrie slid her hands over her body. Doing exactly what she would be doing if she was alone. She rubbed her breasts through her bra.
“I want you, Aleks.” He stood at the end of the bed. His hands twitching at his sides. “Don’t you want me?”
She saw he tried to respond, but he got distracted when she moved her hand between her legs.
“If you’re not going to join me, then I’m forced to have fun all on my own.” His eyes never left her center. “Do you want to see what I do when I’m alone?”
“Fuck, yes.” It was obvious he was trying hard to keep himself in check, but the strain in his pants told her it wouldn’t take much for him to jump on her.
She slid aside the fabric that covered her sex and pushed her index finger inside. With her finger lubed, Carrie circled her clit.
“Do you have any idea how hot this is? Watching you touch yourself.”
She knew. Because doing it for him was the most erotic thing she had ever done. “Mmm... it feels good. Not as good as if you were touching me. Don’t you want to touch me?”
Aleks started forward then stopped. Pulling himself back, content to watch the show she put on for him with one hand working her swollen nub, the other kneading her aching breasts. She was breaking him down.
“Why are you doing this?”
Revenge? Need? Satisfaction? She didn’t know. Yet at this moment, Carrie had transformed into a woman she didn’t even recognize. Maybe that’s what she needed to do in order to get him to break down his defenses. Get rid of all things Carrie.
“Do you know what I think about when I touch myself?”
All his physical actions told her he was engaged. Enjoying. His eyes followed the hand that rubbed between her legs.
“I think of you.” She heard a grunt. “I think about your hands touching my breasts. Your cock sliding in and out of my mouth.”
Carrie was starting to pant. Her words, his stare, and the action of her hand between her legs had her teetering on the edge of an orgasm.
“I think about your mouth all over my body.” She wondered if Aleks realized he slid his tongue across his bottom lip. Was it at the thought of tasting her? There was only one way to find out. “I wish your mouth was on me right now.”
She sped up her rhythm and moaned. No more talking, she needed to finish. Laying her head back, Carrie shut her eyes tight, concentrating on the image of Aleks’s face between her legs. She was there, on the verge of release. She peeked at him. He was stroking his cock while he watched her. The sight of him nudged her over the line, and she broke apart. His figure blurred in front of her. She embraced the tremors that rolled through her body and eased her hands out of her slippery cunt.
When she refocused, Aleks still stood at the foot of the bed but his hand no longer stroked his cock. He was still erect but not giving himself any release. He didn’t need her permission, but maybe an incentive was needed.
“If you’re not going to touch me, you can touch yourself.”
She brought her hands up to her breasts and pulled down the lace, tweaking at her nipples. His hand returned to his shaft. His movements were rough. The lack of moisture on his shaft