I carefully make my way across the floor to reach the doorway. Instead of poking my head around the side, I peek through the slit along the hinges. It’s not very wide, but it gives me enough of a view to spot anyone in the bathroom.
I don’t know what I expect to find, but…Adrian…hips braced against the bathroom counter, his pants around his knees, and his cock in hand is not it.
The background noise washes away as I watch him, intent on seeing him completely stripped of the authority, of his demands, of everything that makes him so fascinating to me.
I still like him. I still want him, even more so as I witness such an unguarded moment. He strokes his hand from base to tip in long slow strokes. I’m curious why he didn’t come into the bedroom and ask me to touch him. He’s been on edge while I’ve been trying to acquaint myself with our new intimate relationship, so maybe he just needed to take the edge off.
I’m entranced as he guides his hand up his length and then back down. When his strokes increase in tempo, I lean closer to the door. So close, I can hear my ragged breathing bouncing off the wood to reach me.
When he dips his other hand down to cup his balls, I freeze, holding my breath now so I don’t miss a single sound he might let slip out.
He’s beautiful like this. His thighs thick and muscular, his arms working hard to pleasure himself. A hot coil of need swirls through me. It’s a feeling I’ve only recently started to recognize. But now, it blazes through me full force as I watch him.
Wearing only a white T-shirt and his underwear, I slide my hand down my belly and into my panties as I watch. I clamp my lips tight so he doesn’t catch the whimper that escapes me when my fingers reach my clit.
I barely start moving when he lets out a long grunt that shoots right through me. He comes hard, with one hand around the tip to catch his cum and the other working himself fast.
When he starts to wash his hands, I rush back to the bed, climbing onto the covers just in time for him to come out of the bathroom and wipe his hands on a towel. “Awake, Angel?”
I look at him and nod. My body still hot and needy. This ache that seems to bloom when he touches me and never quite lets go.
He stops at the side of the bed and studies me. “Are you going to come eat some breakfast?”
I shake my head. “I’m not very hungry right now. I’ll just grab some lunch when I feel like it.”
Gently, he slides onto the bed next to me. “What’s going on?”
Oh, man. Now I need to pretend I wasn’t just watching him while I touched myself. I’ve never been a good liar. “Nothing.”
The tiniest smile curves at the corner of his lips. “Val, your nipples are about to poke through that shirt. And I recognize that pink flush to your cheeks.”
I shrug. But he won’t let me get away with that.
He snatches my hand so fast I can’t even react. When I squeeze my thighs together in an attempt to stifle the ache, his eyes narrow. “What have you been doing up here without me?”
If he takes me touching myself as a sign that I’m ready to go further, to finally consummate things, I don’t know if I have the fortitude to turn him away. Yet some part of me knows I’m still scared to go there. Will he force me? It seems unkind to think it, but I can’t help it after everything that’s happened.
He watches me as he brings my hand up to his lips. I gasp when he sucks my middle and index finger into his mouth and swirls his tongue around them. Then he gently releases my wrist back on the bed and gives me a scorching look. “Did you just touch yourself?”
Since he already knows the answer, I can only nod.
“Were you being naughty and touching yourself while you watched me in the bathroom?”
Again, I nod, a wash of heat hitting my cheeks hard. No doubt even my ears are pink from the blush.
“Show me what you did, where you stood.”
His demand is strange, but he’s not asking for something I can’t give him. I ease off the other side of the bed and go to stand at the doorway of the bathroom to peer along the hinges. I have to reposition the door from where he’d opened it.
“Ah,” he says into my ear, and I jump because I didn’t even hear him approach. “Did you touch yourself here, or when you were back on the bed?”
“Here,” I whisper, not trusting my voice.