Page 153 of The Snowball Effect

Texting with her non-dominant hand while balancing her phone against her mattress wasn’t Regan’s best skill, but she wasn’t going to miss this opportunity for the fucking world.

Arching her hips up, she slid her hand further down, avoiding touching her clit directly. She was so, so sensitive and she couldn’t let this be over so soon. A breathless cry caughtin her throat as she pressed her fingertips against her opening, working her hips down against herself.

Emma – 12:02AM

Obviously, I’m thinking about that woman

Regan – 12:03AM

Me. You’re thinking about me. Say it

Please

She dug her teeth into her bottom lip, sharply, waiting for an answer. Trying desperately to hold herself back from actually fucking herself – fingers deep inside, rubbing her clit, working to that orgasm that she knew would be within reach in mere moments – until she knew.

Emma – 12:03AM

I’m thinking about you

Regan released her breath, and with it, an aching moan from the back of her throat. She hadn’t even known, really, that the moan would escape, but without holding herself back… well, she couldn’t say she was surprised. Nor could she say she cared.

They weredoing this.

Without needing to restrain herself anymore, Regan slid two of her fingers further inside, feeling the slight stretch, and she groaned with it. The same kind of sounds she let out on Monday night, when she hadn’t thought Emma was home.

Emma – 12:04AM

What are YOU doing over there???

Already feeling herself start to pant, her hips canting down against her hand to ride her fingers, Regan attempted to typeback. Only for her phone to fumble and fall face-down against her mattress, and, “Fuck it.”

She flipped her phone over and hit the call icon, relieved that she didn’t have to worry about maintaining enough sanity to text, anymore.

She knew she wasn’t going to have the wherewithal to continue that soon, anyway.

It rang three times – far too many times, really, when Regan knew for a fact Emma was holding her phone in her hand – before Emma answered, “Why are you calling me?”

Emma’s own breathing was labored, though it sounded like she was trying to get it under control for reasons Regan couldn’t understand. Not when she was on the brink of completely giving herself into the flames dancing inside of her.

“Because –ah,” her breath hitched, and she whimpered as her fingers brushed against one of the sensitive places inside of her. Her entire body shuddered with it, and she could hear how broken her own words were, as she pushed them out. “Because you don’t moan as loudly as I do, and I want to hear you.”

There was a beat of silence and Regan wondered if she’d gone too far. Was the call pushing things? Emma had said she didn’t want to rush –

Emma let out a deep, rasping groan. “Fuck, Regan. I – you’rekillingme.”

“You started it,” she shot back, pressing her hot cheek against her sheet as she rolled her hips down even harder, really starting to fuck herself, now. “I was being good tonight; I wasn’t doing this. But then I could hear you, and I only have so much self-control.”

She could hear Emma’s breath hitch. “I didn’t mean for you to hear me; that’s never happened before. I just – I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted in a whisper.

“Me, neither,” Regan eagerly offered, shamelessly. “All I could think about was you.”

“I’m… I’ve never done this on the phone,” Emma admitted, her voice sounding so deliciously guttural. “I’ve barely done it in text, but at least then I can think clearly about what I’m going to say.”

“Don’t think,” Regan urged, feeling mindless herself. She slid her fingers as deep inside as she could, then held them there and grinded her hips down.

The sound that tore itself from her throat almost hurt, but it felt so… fucking…good.

“Fuck,” Emma’s answering moan only intensified this spiraling heat inside of her.

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