Page 115 of Butterfly Effect

I swallow, the air suddenly thick and suffocating, my semi from Gabe’s mini-riding session growing harder. “So that was your plan all along? Get me so riled up I take you right here in the wash?—”

“Maybe.” Facing me, her hand balls the hem of my shirt, nails scraping the skin underneath. She tugs my mouth to hers. “Maybe I want you to.”

“Fuck.”

“And don’t make excuses.” Our lips brush. “I’m not high.”

“How do I know for sure?”

Gabe backs me into the wall by the throat, treating me to a sweltering, tongue-first kiss that has me moaning into her mouth and hungry for more when she stops. It’s intentional, calculated.

Clarity and challenge gleam in the hazel streaking her eyes. “How’s that?”

“Turn around,” I say huskily. “And unzip your pants.”

She does.

“Now bend over.”

Gabe listens again, bracing her arms against the sink top and giving the most incredible view of her ass, split down the middle with a flimsy thong.

“Are you wet, or do you need more of my kisses?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“Gladly.” My hand curls around her to the open split of her pants, moving aside the string to test her wetness. It’s damp but not nearly enough. I want her sore, not torn up.

From my right cargo pocket, I retrieve a black satin satchel. Its resident slides from the smooth fabric into my palm. Heavy, ridged with veins. The bright pink silicone dick that she likes to pretend is me.

“I figured out why you love this thing so much. It’s me, but portable.”

Twisting the dial at the bottom makes the toy buzz softly. I move the tip onto one nipple, watching how it puckers through the black fabric before repeating it on the other side.

I spit on the head and mouth it, coating it with saliva as far as I can without gagging.

Gabe’s breath staggers.

My cock swells, eyes unwavering from hers. They blow wide as I prod the slick tip through the cleft of her pussy, gliding it past her clit.

Her fingers crook into arches against the counter, each gasp and sigh shallower than the last.

Another twist increases the speed of vibrations and she winces, then tosses her head, bowing her back when I thrust it inside. In and out, in and out, only stopping briefly over her g-spot.

The vanity shakes as her knees clack against its cupboard doors.

I use my free hand to cover hers, thumbing the vein at her wrist. “This drumming, your pulse. It’s for me, right?” I search for it every time we’re together, and it’s the same. Steadily climbing. “It’s because you’re mine, Freckles. Every beat, every orgasm, every part of this stunning pussy. All mine. Even when I’m not there. It’s me you use to get yourself off. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re…”

“Go ahead. Lie to me.”

The highest setting of the toy cuts her off. “Oh, my God. Fu-fuck.”

“Go on, Gabe, fuck this fake dick and pretend it’s me. Squeeze those tight pussy walls around it until you come.”

Tremoring through a whimper, she finishes so hard that the dildo slips out. I toss it into the running sink, afraid if I wait any longer, I’ll come on myself.

I tear open a condom from my pocket with my teeth, undoing my pants enough to roll it on. It stretches and stretches around the curve, dulling the red crown to pink.

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