Page 44 of All Your Pucking Secrets

My thighs instinctively part to make more room and I slip my hand beneath the waistband until all that prevents the touch from being skin on skin is the cotton of my panties.

“Just all right?”

“Nice.”

For the first time in years, it occurs to me to consider my plain underwear as something other than safe. It’s a bit boring. Silk or satin would feel so much nicer against my skin. But I made the decision three years ago not to wear anything too provocative.

Despite the fact I know victim blaming isn’t right or healthy, I can’t help believing that I should do everything in my power to remain safe—including covering up.

“Stay with me,” Tyler says. “Let’s see if we can do better than ‘nice’. Did you see the lube that came with the dildo?”

My face flames. “Um, yes.”

“Do you think you’re ready to touch yourself with nothing in between?”

I weigh the question, refusing to answer impulsively. I don’t want to spiral into a panic attack and have Martina catch me hyperventilating over a pile of sex toys.

“I think so,” I reply. It will push my limits, but perhaps that isn’t a bad thing.

“No pressure if you aren’t,” he says. “There’s absolutely no rush. I can call to talk you through however much you’re comfortable with every day until you do get there, if that’s what you want.”

His patience eases my nerves.

“No,” I say more firmly. “I can do this.”

He hums his understanding. “Then, if you’re sure, I’d like you to squirt some lube onto your fingers and use it to get your pussy nice and slick.”

I stiffen. “I’m not putting anything up there.”

Not today. Honestly, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for that.

“I won’t ask you to,” he assures me. “Trust me.”

Yeah, because that’s gone so well in the past.

“I promise.” Emotion is embedded in his every word. “I will not let you down this time, baby. I’d rather carve out my heart than hurt you again.”

I blow out all the air that’s built up in my lungs and do my best to let the tension go. I don’t trust Tyler. Not completely. But I believe he means what he’s saying.

I get up and find the lube, then open it and squirt a blob onto my fingers. I return to the bed, lie down, and use my free hand to shimmy my yoga pants down to my thighs. With a few deft motions, I spread the lube on my pussy, which is still dry even though I’m a little turned on.

“Are you with me?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“I want you to rub one of your fingers down the center of your pussy. Don’t go further than you’re comfortable with. Once you’ve done that, circle your clit, but don’t touch it. Got it?”

“Mmhmm.”

I dip one slick finger into the heat of my pussy, but stop as I draw close to my entrance. I’m not ready for anything to touch me there. Then I head back to the safer area at the top, where I trace that same finger in gentle circles around my clit. A zap of heat shoots through my lower body and I whimper.

God, it’s been so long since I let myself even think about sex that I’d forgotten how addictive that slow build of desire could be.

“I bet you look so pretty.” Tyler’s voice is tight. “Pink cheeks, bright eyes. That perfect little pussy.”

My teeth sink into my lower lip. The way he sounds, I can almost believe that he truly wants me as desperately as he claims. A thrill of power zings through me. After years of feeling powerless, it’s incredible to have him in the palm of my hand—metaphorically speaking.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve gotten myself off to memories of you,” he adds. “I know it’s wrong, but nothing else feels right. I don’t want to see anyone else, or even imagine a stranger. I’m yours, Echo. Every fucked-up part of me.”

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