Page 29 of Devilish Ink

I listened as Ry again tried breathing slowly and calmly. Again there was silence.

But not for long.

Rymoaned.

In the mirror I could just make out the crook of an elbow, the heavy rise of a chest in a too-thin old t-shirt.

I hardly dared to believe it.

But then she moaned again.

She was touching herself. Not even a foot from me, Ry was masturbating.

I had to grip the base of my cock with an iron grip to keep myself from coming uncontrollably right then and there. Even that, squeezing myself like a boa constrictor, was almost not enough.

To know that Ry’s graceful little fingers were circling her clit, teasing her folds till they wet, slipping unencumbered into her tight pussy…

Surely she could hear my heart thudding out my chest.

Of course she couldn’t because her own heart was probably racing. Her moans were rapidly growing louder and from the mirror I saw how quickly she was fingering herself, how strained the muscles along her forearm were.

Blood must have been thundering against her ears, skin vibrating with electricity. Whatever had been agitating her had needed release and she was careening wildly toward it.

I began to stroke myself beneath the bed. Closing my eyes, I imagined my hand was her pussy. Her moans were in my ear, her hard nipples beneath her t-shirt brushing my chest. I’d never felt such pleasure masturbating before.

The bed was groaning, the springs of the mattress screeching and my hazy thoughts wondered what could have driven her to such need to make her writhe about, out of her mind withpleasure from only her own fingers inside of her. Her heels digging in like mine had, her back arching in the mirror, t-shirt damp against her heaving chest with sweat.

“Oh, God,Lee,” she moaned as she came.

Myname.

Me.

She’d been thinking aboutmeas she touched herself.

Not Rian. Not her boyfriend.

My fucking name.

I bit down on my bottom lip as I came beneath her. My cum came in searing hot spurts that covered the underside of her bed. My orgasm was almost more pain than pleasure because I had to force myself to stay absolutely silent.

I wanted to curl in on her, squeeze her tight to me, dig my fingers into her skin and my muscles screamed as I roped them in. I didn’t even get the satisfaction of collapsing bonelessly as Ry did.

All I allowed myself was a single shudder that was more intense than anything I’d ever experienced with any other woman.

She had been hauntingmethis whole time.

But I was the one haunting her.

I wanted to hear my name on her mouth again. Closer. Louder. Even more desperately.

As Ry’s pants softened, I used her panties to clean up the slats along the bottom of her bed.

I waited until Ry’s breathing slowed and then steadied. I waited a little while longer to be sure, but it was soon clear: she was out.

How desperate had she been for that release? Had she been thinking about me at Dublin Ink? Waiting for me to return?

These thoughts consumed me as I snuck out from beneath her bed, carefully extracting the duffel bag, and made my way toward the door. I paused to glance back at her.

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