Lifting the hem of my floral-print dress, I move aside the lace of my panties and feel the heat and wetness radiating from between my legs.
“I’d kiss you right behind the ear just so I could feel you shiver against me,” he breathes. “Smelling your vanilla perfume mixed with the scent of you all turned on would make me so fucking hard.”
“And me so wet,” I whisper.
“I lay my hand over yours,” he continues, “my fingers holding yours in place. You breathe in, the top of your robe falling open so I can see those big, round titties swollen for me, wanting my mouth on them.”
“God, Dom,” I groan, spreading my legs a little wider. Flicking at my engorged clit, the sensation makes me gush a breath of pure need.
“What are you doing right now?” he whispers.
“Ah,” is my response as I roll the nub with my thumb, my eyes squeezed closed imagining it is Dominic’s hand on me and not mine.
“Are you touching yourself, Camilla?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck,” he hisses. “Do you wish it were me?”
“Yes.”
“I’d shove your robe up, bend you over the table, and bury myself inside you so deep you almost can’t take it. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” I almost moan. My back is now arched, my breathing heavy and panting, as I replay two days ago when his words tonight were almost a play-by-play.
“I love the way you squeeze around me. Your little pussy almost milks my cock, begs for it. Do you know that?”
My eyelids clench together harder, almost painfully hard, as I touch myself in just the right way. The burn begins low in my stomach, the rumble getting louder with each and every movement of my hand.
The lace of my panties causes friction against the back of my hand, just another bit of sensation that sends me on a spiral higher and higher.
“Think of how good it feels when I hit that spot in the back of your pussy,” he coaxes. “The way you let loose. How your legs shake as you flood my cock with so much fucking juice that it almost shoves me out of you.”
“Dom,” I utter through clenched teeth as the tremors of my orgasm hit me full-on.
“You coming, baby? You coming thinking of me buried inside you?”
“Yessssss.”
My body hums at the imagery he’s painted for me, the thought of him doing all of those things sending me on a high that could only be topped if it were him doing them.
Sucking in a
breath, I hear him follow suit, as I whimper at the aftershocks of my climax. My legs relax, the riot in my stomach eases, as I let my head fall back with a contented, satisfied sigh.
“Damn, lady,” Dom says just as I’m piecing myself back together. “That was ridiculously sexy.”
My cheeks heat as I drop my hand to the side, my body now spent. Embarrassment rears its ugly head as I realize, without an orgasm-needing brain, what just happened.
“Cam?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light.
“Don’t be embarrassed.”