Page 60 of Dare To Break

Chapter 39

Arabella

The buzz of the phone by the sink makes my stomach jolt.

Unknown number: Good girl. What are you going to do about it?

My gaze darts to the locked bathroom door and then back to the message on the screen. A challenge. Because I know that’s exactly what it is. I hadn’t been expecting another dare tonight.

No one can see me here. It’s safe. I just have to keep quiet. Lacy won’t know. She’s probably asleep already.

Chewing on my lower lip, I type my reply.

Me: I’m going to make myself come.

Barely a minute passes before a second message flashes up.

Unknown number: I like your honesty. You have three minutes to get yourself off, starting now.

Placing the phone back down on the side of the sink, I perch on the edge of the bathtub, my legs spread. My fingers crawl down past the waistband of my cotton shorts and panties. The tips of my fingers encounter my slickness, and I shudder at how wet I am. There’s a pulsing ache inside me that only gets stronger.

I close my eyes, and let my thoughts return to the bench.

The man is close. I can sense him. His hot breath on my cheek, his heat close to my body. Instead of walking away, he slides a gloved hand up my thigh to roughly push my legs apart.

Rubbing my clit with my fingers, I let the fantasy take flight. It’s his hands on me. His fingers teasing me, thrusting in and out.

My skin tingles, and I’m hyper-aware of how heavy my breasts feel. The way my nipples brush against the fabric of my t-shirt. Cupping one with my free hand through the fabric, I twist my nipple sharply. A low moan escapes my lips, and I clamp my mouth closed to swallow down the rest.

Shh, you don’t want us to get caught, do you, Kitten? He whispers in my head. Or is being watched something you like? You’re not a good girl at all, are you? You’re a dirty girl.

He has me pinned to the bench now, the weight of his body on top of me. I can’t move. His hand squeezes around my throat while his fingers continue to pump in and out of me.

My pussy clenches, my breath hitches, and an orgasm hits me hard. Shaking and panting, I stroke myself until the last ebb of pleasure dies.

I open my eyes, rise from the side of the tub, and wash my hands in the sink before drying them, then check my phone. I still have a minute to spare.

I shoot off a message.

Me: Done.

Unknown number: What were you thinking about while you were touching yourself?

Me: You.

Unknown number: I want details, Kitten. If we’re playing, then there’s no holding back on your end.

An echoing throb in my groin leaves me with an unfamiliar, needy ache. Hands trembling, I give him my answer.

Me: I imagined I was still on the bench, alone in the dark. You had your gloved hand wrapped around my throat and your other hand between my legs.

Unknown number: In your fantasy, were you still wearing the blindfold?

Me: Yes.

Unknown number: Did I say anything to you?

My stomach does a somersault at the question.

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