Page 29 of Obey

Every kinky book boyfriend I’ve ever read says “Good girl,” and Jagger not giving me the full thing is making me ache in a deep place I didn’t even know existed.

What do I have to do to make him tell me I’m a good girl?

Chapter Eleven

JAGGER

Is death by balls exploding a thing?

Because if I don’t get to take the edge off this soon, I may very well find out.

The lights are on. Despite the cold, the blankets flipped back off her completely, her pants are shucked all the way down to her ankles, and the gorgeous woman lying next to me with flushed cheeks and wide eyes is just... staring.

“Tell me what to do.” Her voice is quiet, soft, not pleading, but there’s a firmness to it that makes me want to test her.

“Do it how you usually do it.”

Her brows flinch like she’s processing what I said, before she licks her bottom lip.

I prop myself up on my elbow, hand gripped around my pulsing cock. It’s leaking, aching, begging for release, but I don’t want to scare the sprite. If she decides she wants to stop, I’ll figure myself out in a bathroom, but for now, I’m enjoying watching her face. “Can I look?”

She flickers her gaze to my cock, then back to my face. “I’d like that.” Legs spread further apart, she sighs, her eyes drifting closed. Her hand is resting above her pubic bone. Tufts of blondecurly hair lead down to a perfectly glistening pussy I’d love to sink into.

“So beautiful, Talia.”

She rolls her lips between her teeth but doesn’t argue. She walks her fingers through her hair until she finds her clit. She’s slick, slippery, completely soaked and when her fingers move in a circle and makes a noise, she covers her eyes with her free hand.

I pluck her hand off her face and put it on her chest. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Her questioning eyes flicker open and find mine.

“There’s no sound your body can make that’s going to pull a reaction from me that isn’t desire.” I pause. “Unless you fart. Sometimes farts are funny.”

Her lips flicker like she’s going to smile. The skin of her neck flickers quickly as her pulse races below the surface.

“And even then, if you fart, you fart. When you sign up to play, you sign up for the fluids, and the sounds, the queefs, the farts, the squelches.”

She tries to cover her face again.

“Don’t hide, Half-Pint. Sex isn’t neat and tidy, it’s not pretty, it’s not clean. It’s messy, and raw, and loud. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s nothing to hide from or fear. Exploring yourself and your sexuality isn’t only normal, but it’s completely healthy. Don’t let anyone tell you it isn’t. Do you want to stop?”

She shakes her head. Then, as though she realizes I’m about to ask for vocal confirmation, she says ‘no’ out loud.

“Good. Just make yourself feel good. That’s all you need to do, right? Don’t hold back. Don’t let embarrassment, or shame, or self-consciousness stop you from feeling nice, okay?”

She hums, but her fingers are moving fast. They’re sliding in jerky up and down movements skimming faster and faster across the top of her clit. Her hips are bucking, her breath isfractured, and while her eyes are closed, she’s scowling, so I know she’s not getting the desired result from fingering herself.

When I put my huge hand over hers, she stills. “Am I doing it wrong?” Her voice is strained, layered with frustration.

“There’s no wrong way to get yourself off. But can I make a suggestion?”

“Please.”

That sounds like a plea, and it makes my dick twitch.

“Try a gentler touch, and try circles.” I move my hand over hers, guiding her. Her body shakes with a shiver as she begins touching herself again. When she’s found a rhythm, I take my hand off hers and plant it firmly on my cock.

I want to touch her. I want to stroke her cheek, push her hair out of her face, and tell her how she looks like a goddess lying next to me as she touches herself. I wish she’d open her eyes, though I understand her reluctance to look at me. This isn’t a small deal for her.

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