Page 60 of Burn Point

Oh God, he was lying in his bed, watching me touch myself. I shifted my legs, again, unable to hold still. “Is that okay with you?” I whispered to him, pulling the phone closer to show only my face.

“Am I fine with you showing me what I’ve been dreaming about? Absolutely.”

He’d been dreaming of me? In this way?

His eyes locked on mine and crinkled at the edges when he smiled. Though he was a thousand miles away, it felt like he was in the room with me.

He pulled his phone away from his face, giving me a shot of his bare torso. Tilting his head at me, he asked, “Are we doing this?”

I swallowed thickly. Things wouldn’t be the same between us after this, but I was ready, even if I was nervous.

My gaze roamed his chest. I’d seen him shirtless before, but I took the moment to study the curve of his pecs, the light smattering of hair covering his torso. I trailed my fingertips across my own collarbone, imagining the feel of his skin, shifting the phone so he could watch. Wanting him.

“Yes,” I whispered. “We’re doing this.”

“Does that feel good? Running your fingers over your body? Would you like that to be my fingers right now?” His voice was low and guttural, almost whispered.

I nodded, making the strokes over my torso longer, more languid. How many times had I watched him, and imagined what his touch would feel like?

“I like how you do that, but I want you to move your hand down lower, Jordan.”

He was wicked, and I was under his spell. My nerve endings flared to life. My entire body at his command, so aware of every tiny brush of the sheet below me, the soft tank glancing across my nipples, the seam of my shorts pressing into me.

“Skim your fingertips down your breasts, but don’t touch your nipples. Just run them right along that gorgeous curve. That’s where I’d like to run my nose, soft enough to barely blow a breath across your nipples, to see them peak.”

My breath was shallow, almost panting, as I followed his direction. And the bliss of not having to think, to just be, and do as he wished heightened my arousal.

“Good, that’s perfect. Now trail your fingers across your belly. Imagine that’s my mouth you feel. Tracing that smooth skin with my lips, memorizing you.”

Goosebumps skittered across my skin. I whimpered at the image his words conjured, glancing at the screen to make sure he could see most of me.

“Keep drifting that hand down. Now, press your palm. Right there. Between your legs. That’s where I want to be right now.” He whispered, his seductive assault on my senses halting, as if he was as affected as I was. “Use that pretty little hand and press down on your clit.”

The shock of Nate dirty talking me skated over my skin, set me on fire, and I gasped at the pleasure that pressure brought, arching my back to get more.

“Damn, look at you. You are gorgeous.” I heard a rustle, then his soft moan. Was he touching himself while he coached me through this?

“Have you ever done this before, Jordan? Have you ever touched yourself while someone watched you?”

I shook my head, catching my lip between my teeth to stifle another moan. I loved this unexpected naughtiness in him.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” The approval in his tone washed over me, and I pressed harder into the bundle of nerves, wishing it were his hands on my body. “Feel how good that is. Imagine I’m there. I’d slide my hand in your panties and see how wet you are. I bet you are soaked.”

Helpless to stop myself, I shifted my hand under the waistband of my shorts, gliding a finger through my folds. So wet. I was so wet, and so needy.

“Now, I want you to slide a finger through that wet pussy and then draw up and circle your clit.” He continued guiding me on this exploration.

Coating my fingers, I did as he commanded. A gasp escaped my parted lips as my mouth dropped open. “How does it feel?”

“I’m so warm, and wet.” I barely recognized the husky voice as my own.

“God damn, you are so sexy. If I was there, I’d drape your legs over my shoulders and run my tongue down your crease and suck your clit. I’d slide my fingers deep inside you and…”

I panted, swept away imagining his head between my legs, the feel of his hands instead of mine, his mouth on me, tongue in me. Mirroring his words with my hands, I dipped a finger inside myself, arching, moaning, needing more.

“Open your eyes and look at me.” His demand cut through my passion, and I focused on him, on his arm moving off screen. The shift of his muscles, contracting rhythmically.

“See what you do to me? You’ve got me imagining it’s your hand clamped around my dick, pumping me hard, while my fingers are buried in you.”

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