Page 111 of The Perfect Love

“Holy shit. That is so hot.” Chelsea bites her lip and slips her hand between her legs.

“Back at you.” My voice is gravelly and thick, and the haze is already settling in. I turn to her and watch, then slowly slide the Fleshlight up before pulling it back down.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

My abs tighten and I break out in a sweat.

What the fuck is this thing?

It doesn’t feel as good as a pussy. Nothing feels like that, especially when an emotional connection is added in. But this is a damn good replacement for a hand job.

Even better when I’m watching Chelsea pinch her nipples and fuck herself with her fingers.

“Are you okay, baby?” I whisper, cautiously moving the toy faster.

“I’m perfect. Keep going. Watching you keeps me out of my head.”

Her words snap the tether of my control, and I buck into the toy, working it hard and fast over my cock.

It’s so good. So tight.

I keep my eyes on her, gripping the sheet with my other hand.

Even though I’m getting myself off—with some help from a toy—I feel completely out of control.

“Faster,” Chelsea whispers.

So, I move faster. I’m not used to it. Normally, I’m the one in control. The one giving orders. The one with my hand twisted in a girl’s hair and owning her body. But right now, I’m at Chelsea’s mercy, and that… is a turn-on I wasn’t expecting.

“Keep going, Trev. You’re doing so good. I want to see you come again, then I want you to watch while I come, screaming your name.”

Fuck.

“Chels… I’m—” I can’t get the words out before pure pleasure ripples through me. I claw at the sheets, my orgasm ripping me to shreds. Black clouds my vision as I collapse against the bed, slowly pulling the toy off as my cock pulses one last time.

Chelsea’s whine and the low hum of a vibrator are the only things that pull me back to the moment.

I set the toy on the bed, rolling onto my side as I watch her. Her beautiful face is already slack with pleasure. She reaches topinch her nipples with her free hand, but I grab her hand before she gets there.

“Can I do that?”

Her gaze snaps to mine, then she relaxes and smiles.

“Yes.”

“Fingers or mouth?”

A groan.

“Both.”

I don’t wait for any further invitation. Diving forward, I capture one of her nipples in my mouth, while stroking my hand over her neck, down her chest, then cupping her heavy breast and massaging it. With my other hand, I tweak her other nipple, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger while I palm her breast.

“Yes. Just like that,” she hisses.

When I casually graze her nipple with my teeth, she arches off the bed and her free hand tangles in my curls, holding them tightly as she rides the vibrator.

“Trevor… fuck…”

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