Page 141 of Skate the Line

“It means good girl. Now tell me what you’re doing to yourself that has you out of breath, baby.”

Baby?First I call her a good girl in Russian, and now I’m calling her baby?

“I’m doing exactly what you’d be doing. Except, I haven’t taken my shorts off yet.”

A deep noise leaves me. I shove my hand inside my pants and take a hold of my cock.

“Take them off.”

I can hear her shifting around.

I picture her slipping the shorts down her toned legs and kicking them off to the side. I’d spread her wide, just to get a better look.

“Don’t touch yourself yet,” I warn.

She makes a pouty noise, and I love it.

“We’re still in punishing mode, remember?”

She says nothing, and I take her silence for granted.

“After I stripped you bare, I’d take my hands and place them on the insides of your knees.” I shut my eyes and picture doing that. My balls tighten, and I milk myself. “I’d push your legs open and stare down at that pretty little pussy.”

She whimpers.

“It’s perfect. The right size, tastes like heaven, and so goddamn responsive to my touch.”

The way her body sang when I touched her last night was more of a miracle than anything.

“Rhodes.” My name is a whine, and I eat it up.

“I know, baby,” I say. “But this is a punishment.”

“I don’t want to be punished anymore.”

I flare my nostrils. “Don’t worry. You’ll be rewarded at the end.”

She gulps. “What’s next?”

What’s next? Those nipples. The same ones I saw poking through her shirt last night.

“Next,” I attempt to level my voice. “I’d push your shirt up so I could marvel at your breasts.”

I hear nothing but her heavy breathing.

“Do it, Sunny. Push your shirt up and feel the cool air brush against your skin.”

I listen closely and hear the scratching of fabric against her soft skin.

“Khoroshaya devochka.” I call her a good girl again and coax her through the phone. “Now touch them.”

She’s panting now, and my hand moves faster. I visualize her delicate fingers twisting her nipples and her back arching off the bed. I wonder if she’s aching as much as I want her to be.

“Tell me how it feels.”

“Um…” She exhales. “It feels…” The faintest moan leaves her, and I almost die. “It feels good…but I want more.”

“I guess you’re learning your lesson, then.” My head tilts backward on my pillow, and I squeeze myself until I can come back down to earth. “No more lying.”

---