Page 21 of The Secrets We Share

“Put it back right now.”

His stern tone is a warning that things will get worse if I don’t listen. Overthrowing my better judgment, I do, and sigh in relief when the vibration slows the moment it connects with my clit.Instead of the instant overstimulation I was bracing for, my body hums in pleasure instead.

I let the crescendo of bliss build in my bloodstream. My body writhes against the small toy, searching for more friction.

“More. Please!” But the toy doesn’t accelerate. “Sir.”

He waits for a beat, letting me drown in my desperate frustration. The toy stops altogether, and I shoot up from my relaxed position, eyes connecting with his mirth-filled ones on the screen.

“Remember your place, little one. I might be across the country now, but I’ll be back tomorrow. Now, be the good little slut I know you are. Lay back and listen.”

My gut reaction is to throw a viciousfuck youin his direction and slam the computer shut before taking control of my pleasure, and it wars inside my head with the small voice that knows better. The one Harkin spent months molding with every ounce of attentiveness to my needs. I hijack my instinct to fight back and draw in a deep breath, relaxing back into the mattress.

“Sweetness, are you with me?” he checks in, and I could kiss him for it if he were here.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Time to use the toy. Slide the wide end into that wet pussy for me. Make sure the top fits perfectly against your clit. No cheating this time.”

I listen, adjusting to the sensation of the ridged toy. It’s nothing compared to the girth I’m used to with his cock. If anything, it leaves me wanting more. I’m about to tell him just that when the vibrations start. It’s slow at first, but the steady hum brings my attention south. My hips rotate, searching for friction that doesn’t quite scratch my itch.

“More?”

“So much more, Sir.”

“Aww, is my girl not used to such small things shoved deep in her tight, warm cunt. Are you desperate for more, my dirty little slut?”

“Fuck, Sir. Please. It’s not enough.” The whine in my tone would be embarrassing if it were anyone but Harkin on the other side of the screen and I wasn’t frantic to finally come.

“Keep begging, and maybe I’ll give you what you need.”

The sound of him spitting into the mic pulls my eyes to the computer. I catch the last drip from his lips as it disappears below the edge of his desk. Desire pools at my center, knowing his hard cock is just out of sight. He catches me watching and shoves his chair back just enough to reveal the crown. His thumb glides across the tip through a glistening mixture of spit and pre-cum.

My pussy clenches against the toy, reminding me of its existence and the lack of fullness it’s providing. “Sir, I need more. I’m not—Please, I’m not full enough.”

As the plea falls from my lips, his hand starts pumping his hard cock. Twisting and squeezing tight, just as I’d do to bring him the pleasure he craves when I’m wrapped around him.

“Shove two fingers in your needy cunt, then. Fill it full, and I’ll make you come.”

I don’t wait, frantic with a craving to feel the weightlessness that takes over moments before it all comes crashing down. The vibrations from the toy increase against my clit and fingers. My body bows against the mattress, and whimpers escape between my lips. Nonsensical muttering fills the empty room as I try to beg for more, but the delirium takes over.

“Come for me, little one. Drench your hand and scream my name.”

His command pushes me to the edge, and my efforts send me tumbling from it into a freefall I blissfully embrace. The toy draws out the experience, and my body caves in, searching fora finish line that doesn’t seem close enough. I hear his muted roar as he joins me on the other side. My brain and body are too relaxed to enjoy the view.

Whimpering a plea for him to turn off the toy I could easily remove but don’t dare touch, he takes pity on me. But only after sending one last violent shock through my system.

“You did so good for me, little one. You can remove the toy now. Make sure you wash it before you fall asleep.”

“Yes, Sir,” I reply dazedly.

“I—” he cuts himself off and restarts, “I can’t wait to be back home with you. Sleep well, sweetness. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The video chat closes before I can respond, not that I could vocalize much of a response in my current state. I do as he said and clean up before I crawl back into bed. My eyes close, and I drift off as soon as my head hits the pillow.

ELEVEN

HARKIN

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