Page 136 of Beautifully Wounded

So much better than Daniel’s.

“Are you ready to watch me?” he asks, gaining my attention again and I nod, desperate for it.

“You want me on the couch or here?”

“Can you stay there like that?” I ask breathlessly.

“Of course. Are you going to hop under the sheet?”

Oh yeah. The sheet.

Nodding, I hurry to reposition myself, dragging up the sheet to my nose as he watches.

Am I really doing this? This is so wrong, isn’t it?

But I ache for it.

For him.

Fuck it, Abbey. Just let yourself feel good for once.

“Do me a favour, Angel. Let go of the sheet with one hand and slip that between your legs.”

Oh.

“I can’t,” I whimper and he sighs before rolling his shoulders back and clearing his throat.

“Hand between your legs, now.”

His demand does the trick.

Damn, why am I like that?

As I shift under the sheet, positioning my right hand between my legs, Ringo’s eyes flare with something I’m not familiar with but also not scared of, and then he grips his dick and starts to glide his hand up and down.

Damn. That’s hot.

Okay, so maybe I can do this. I can be quiet. I can do this.

Gently running my hand over the seam of my shorts, the ache builds at my touch, and I know that this time, even my touch won’t repulse me.

“Fuck, Angel. I love having your eyes on me.” His abs ripple as he grips his dick before he leans over and opens his bedside drawer.

I frown, wondering what he’s doing, but then he brings out a bottle, and I’m not naïve enough to not recognise lube when I see it.

His gaze flicks to mine as he tips up the bottle, squeezing until a stream of the substance shoots from the nozzle. It drizzles over his hardness before he covers his hand with it and starts stroking himself again, the action making a wet sound.

“Are you wet between your legs, Angel?” he asks, his hand busy but his eyes on me.

“Yes,” I admit easily, like I’m his puppet.

“Is your hand over or under your clothes?”

“Over,” I say as I press a little harder against the ache.

“Put it under.”

His demand has me stilling. “I can’t.”

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