Page 66 of Plaything

Instead, she retracted her hand back and made a face. I had to stop myself from smiling at the inner pep talk she was clearly having. She rolled her eyes at herself before peeking at my face again.

After she mustered up enough courage, she ever so gently touched my dick through my shorts. Her touch was gentle, and I could barely feel it, if I was being honest. It was as if she was trying not to hurt me.

“Did you find something you like?” I inquired, remembering I was supposed to pretend I couldn’t see exactly what she was doing. Her expression gave all her emotions away.

She widened her eyes. “Maybe...” She responded softly, applying more pressure as she palmed me. She pushed her eyebrows together as she wrapped her hand around me through my shorts. She pulled her hand away from me and wrapped it around her opposite wrist. When she concluded they were about the same width, her mouth dropped open.

It took everything in me to keep my expression neutral. If I had any doubts about my dick, they were long gone now. Fuck, she was so cute.

I observed her carefully as she wrapped her hands around the waistband of my shorts. She looked nervous as if it would jump out and bite her. Her eyes flickered back up to my face, “Is this okay?” She asked.

She knew my answer. I was very clear earlier. “You know the answer, Darling.”

She bit her lip as she pulled my shorts down. My dick sprung up, released from the restrictive shorts. Hard was an understatement after the torture she put me through.

Her stare was locked on my dick as she ran a single finger along a vein. I let out a breath, watching her wrap her hand around me. Her eyes kept flickering to my face as if trying to gauge my expression. Of course, I gave nothing away.

Slowly, she began stroking me. Her eyes stayed locked on my face the entire time.

She didn’t know it, but my eyes were locked on hers. I’d never seen someone so stunning. In the simplest terms, it looked like she belonged here. Sitting in my lap, my dick in her hands, and her eyes on me.

Odette said she couldn’t do anything like this while I watched her; little did she know that we were watching each other. Just as she was enjoying my reactions to her touch, I enjoyed hers. I wish she could see herself through my eyes; then, she would know that there was nothing at all to be embarrassed about. If she could see herself the way I do right now, she would think her idea of me wearing a blindfold was silly and downright unnecessary.

While she stroked me, I watched in satisfaction as she used her other hand to rub herself through her shorts. Again, I clenched my fists, reminding myself that if I broke away and touched her myself, I wouldn’t get to watch her crumble.

Her fingers were small and dainty, a drastic comparison to my large ones. She even made touching herself look proper.

“Tell me what you’re doing,” I ordered. I wanted to hear her say the words. The very improper words.

She blushed as she parted her lips, not allowing a moan to escape as she touched herself. “Use your imagination,” she said again.

I smirked, “Are you touching yourself, Odette? Does jerking me off turn you on?” I asked the obvious.

She moaned, looking slightly frustrated, “Yes,” she admitted, not a fan of being caught.

Her hand against me felt amazing, but I was too focused on her to fully appreciate the sensation. Truth be told, I cared more about her, her reactions, and her need for pleasure.

Through the sheer fabric of her shirt, her nipples hardened, making small peaks. I lightly thrust my hips up, encouraging her to continue her movement. “Your hand feels so good on me, Baby,” I rasped.

Odette’s cheeks lit in a blush as her eyes flicked up to me again. Like icebergs in the Atlantic, her eyes shine with curiosity and new sensations. Her innocent expressions and lustful pouted lips were a deadly combination. She would forever be a femme fatal as long as she was on top of me.

To my dismay, she took her hands off both of us, stopping the ripple effect she had on my body. It was only when she removed her hand that I realized the subtle goosebumps that covered my thighs and arms. I’d been touched before, and she made all the others cease to exist. Past encounters were just touch compared to the warm desire that seemed to have a domino effect from her hand to my body.

She shifted on the bed before she was completely off of it, where she stood on the wood floor. I fought the urge to turn my head, knowing I’d give myself away and potentially rob my mind of the artistry she was made of.

“What are you doing?” I questioned, not liking that I couldn’t see her. The sound of fabric on skin—a sound all too familiar—made my heart spike in excitement. I suppose her hand wasn’t doing the trick... I smirked.

Slight fumbling was heard—my best guess was that she tripped over herself. She was the clumsy type.

“Your pants are off; it’s only fair that mine come off too,” she rushed out. I could imagine how many times she’d practiced that one confident sentence in her mind before voicing it.

Fair seemed like an oxymoron. “Fair isn’t what this is about, Darling. You’re the one tying me up,” I reminded. She won, and this was her reward. “If I were in your position, I’d be much more selfish with my reward.”

After a few seconds, she responded, “You want me to be selfish?” Her lips were close to my ear, and her voice was a seductive whisper.

There was an edge to her tone that made me hungry. I craved her skin, thirsted for her lips. She sounded needy, and I’d just invited her to be greedy with me. “I want you to be desperately selfish,” I confirmed.

The little minx took me by surprise once more as I felt her lips on mine. Naturally, my eyes closed to bask in her taste. Her hands trailed up my chest, sending electricity throughout my body.

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