I lie flat on the bed and slowly slide the hem of my nightgown up my thighs. I palm my center and then drag my fingers over my slit. I’m already wet.
My eyes flutter closed, and I imagine Anton standing above me. Those pale gray eyes running over my body with appreciation. I sink into the fantasy and my skin tingles with the excitement of it.
He was hard when he got into the tub with me the other day. He’s hard around me more often than not.
And still, he never touches me. At least, he doesn’t touch me in a way that will lead to anything. I haven’t initiated out of pure self-preservation. I don’t think I can take another rejection, whether it’s for my benefit or not.
So instead of agonizing over what I can’t have in real life, I picture it. I imagine Anton undressing for me, wrapping his hand around his cock as he watches me.
I run my fingers up and down my slit, sliding them in to the first knuckle.
I picture Anton crawling over my body, his naked skin pressed against mine.
My mind is so wired and my body is craving his so much that I keep jumping between fantasies. I picture him behind me, ramming his hips against my ass. Then I picture his cock in my mouth. Him eating me out on a plane, him railing me on the edge of a cliff with the wind in our hair.
I moan as my fingers probe deeper and deeper. With my right hand, I touch my breasts, imagining it’s Anton’s hand squeezing my nipple. I run my fingers over my clit and my eyes flutter open.
That’s when I see the shadow.
I pull my hand back, but his voice cuts through the near silence. Deep and commanding.
“Don’t stop.”
Anton steps forward, the lamp light illuminating his face. He looks like some brooding angel who decided to clip his wings.
“Keep going.”
But the self-consciousness has seeped into my bones. I fidget on the bed, a doe caught in the hunter’s spotlight. “Anton…”
“Say my name again,” he growls. “Say it while you come for me.”
He’s so authoritative that I find myself listening. It’s strange at first, but the way he looks at me slowly dissolves all my shyness. I don’t have to fantasize anymore. I don’t have to concentrate hard to make it real.
His gray eyes are exactly how I imagined them.
“I want to see you touch yourself, too,” I beg softly, knowing that he’ll hear me.
He pulls off his shirt and my pussy throbs hungrily. His abs are absolutely spectacular.
He saunters closer to me before he unbuttons his pants and pulls them down along with his boxers. His cock jumps free and my mouth waters.
His hand wraps around his large shaft and he starts fisting his cock slowly. His eyes stay on me the entire time.
“Anton…” I whisper his name while my own fingers move deep inside me. Just like he asked.
He doesn’t smile, but I can see his eyes flare with desire.
I don’t know what’s going to happen between us. Will this fraught, tenuous relationship last? Will we end up raising this child together? Will he disappear from my life when he gets bored of me?
Tomorrow might bring answers, or maybe it won’t. All I know is this: for the next hour, for as long as it takes to come undone together, the answers don’t matter. Neither do the questions.
All that matters is us.