Page 55 of Take It Offline

“Please,” I beg, even though I don’t know what I’m asking for.

“Shh,” he whispers, freeing my wrists and sitting up. Immediately, I want him back, but he doesn’t go far, slipping the tie over my eyes instead.

“Good?” he asks.

Yes, it’s good. It’s exactly what I wanted.

I nod, and then his weight disappears. A moment later, his heat returns at my side as he lies down.

“Now. Make yourself come for me.”

This time, I ignore the buzz of the toy, focusing instead on the feel of it, the hundreds of times I’ve done this before.

It’s better. I tease my clit with the tip, running the flared edge over the lace of my underwear, exploring every inch of my pussy. The tension seeps away, and I spread my legs wider and slowly writhe against my hand.

Charlie ghosts his lips over my shoulder, the sensation shocking me back to reality.

I pull the vibe away, leaving my clit throbbing.

“I thought you were only going to watch.”

His lips brush my ear. “And I thought you wanted me in charge.”

He’s right. With a shuddering breath, I relax. “I do.”

“Then, respectfully,” he whispers, and the butterflies start up again, “shut up and let me work,” he says, throwing my own words back at me with a smile I can’t see but know in my bones is there.

This time he isn’t tentative as he trails wet kisses along my neck. The nick of teeth against his earlier mark pulls a whimper from me, and I twist my free hand in the sheet.

Oh, fuck. Yes. That works. That really works.

I glide the vibrator across my clit with a whimper.

With a low, rumbling hum, he lays his palm on my collarbone, a steady weight. My throat sits in the curve of his hand, barely touching. But the pressure and breadth of his skin against my chest calls to me, calms me.

With my eyes covered, he could be anyone, but it’s hard to picture anyone else while I’m surrounded by the deep, cool scent of his cologne.

I moan as Charlie mouths down my chest, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth. It’s hot and wet, and I arch my back, desperate for more.

“That’s it,” he purrs, pulling my leg over his, spreading me further. He leaves his hand on my thigh, not close enough to touch my pussy but enough that I want him to.

He continues to touch me, never where I can predict it. Fuck, it’s wildly sexy.

I focus on breathing, on the slow movement of his fingers along my side, up my arm, then back again. New tingles start, good ones, running up and down my spine, until I can’t stop writhing. I want more. Ineedmore.

It takes me all the way to the cliff edge, but as I hover and hover and hover at the peak, willing my body to just fall,go over, do it… I can’t.

Like always, it’s there, just out of reach, mocking me.

Every breath is thick, hot, like trying to inhale smoke. My lungs are squeezed, and all I want to do is get some space so I can take a breath. I drop my head back against the pillow with a frustrated thud, and I point my fear away from him so Charlie won’t see it.

Why does this always have to happen?

It’s the closest I’ve ever come to climaxing with someone else, like standing on one side of an unlocked door I can’t open. All I have to do is move. But I can’t. I’m frozen in place, on the precipice, frustrated.

I want to cry. Scream. Find the receipt for this broken body and demand a refund. I settle for turning the toy off and throwing it to the side.

I hate this.

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