Page 87 of Undeniably Enemies

Jack: The glass one. The long curved one I saw in your drawer. Fuck yourself with that while you rub your clit.

Oh, thank God.

Like my ass is on fire, I scramble to my nightstand and quickly dig through it. He picked the glass one, and I almost smile at that. With how wet I am, it doesn’t need lube, but it’s also not as thick or as long as he is or some of my other toys are, and I know it’s still part of his punishment for me.

I push it inside, and it slides right in and curves up, hitting my front wall just as it’s designed to. I fuck myself with it as I text him back, abandoning my clit, and this is when one of my rabbits would be better.

Me: I’m using it and it’s good, but not as good as you feel. I’m close, though. Are you getting off?

I put my phone down and work my clit while I fuck myself with my toy. I’m sweating and panting and arching my back. I’m so close as I picture him hovering above me, sweat on his brow, and his cheeks red as his dark eyes watch me. He pushes in and out, loving how he knows I need more and getting ready to give me just that.

“Oh fuck, Jack, yes.”

Jack: I’m close too. It’s you making me that way. I’m jerking myself so hard right now just picturing this. Tell me you’re fucking yourself the same way. Tell me you’re picturing me the way I’m picturing you.

Me: I am. I’m rubbing myself so fast in tight circles and fucking myself with my toy. I want you inside me. You knew it wouldn’t be as good.

Jack: I did. I want you to suffer without me the way I’m suffering without you. I want to be the one to fill you up. To come in you. Now fuck your toy while imagining it’s my cock you’re fucking.

Oh god!I rub harder. Faster. Fuck myself deeper. Moans fly from my lips one after the other. I put my phone down, but I can’t stop thinking of his dirty words. Picturing him and how he looked when he came inside of me. I want more of them. More of him.

Jack: Say my name when you come for me. Scream it so I can hear it.

Me: I’m doing it. I’m coming now.

Fuck. I can’t… I pinch my eyes shut. “Jack!” I scream at the top of my lungs, not even caring if the couple who live upstairs hears me do it.

But I hear him too. “Wren!” It vibrates through the walls of my bathroom and into my bedroom, and I keep coming and coming, rubbing my clit and focusing in on that tight bundle of nerves as heat rushes through my limbs and brain. I’m moaning,writhing, clenching my body down on the glass toy, and curling my toes while my orgasm sweeps through me. It doesn’tslow or ebb. It just continues as I continue to rub and fuck myself.

My eyes close, and immediately, I have his head between my thighs, my fingers through his thick, dark hair. His blue eyes peek up at me beneath his dark lashes. A glimpse of his straight nose and wicked smirk hits me as he sucks my clit between his lips. I gasp all over again at how dirty and raw and depraved his expression is.

“Fuck!” I cry out and sag down into a heap of sated lust. My fingers are still on my clit, which is pulsing beneath them. I’m breathless and smiling while laughing lightly, and yes, a bit sweatier than I was when this all started.

Jack: I came so hard when I heard you. Tell me you did too.

Me: I did.

Jack: I want to kiss you. I want to see your beautiful face and kiss your lips, and I don’t want this to get weird.

Me: It won’t, but no kisses. Not again.

Even as my eyes burn with strange, useless, stupid tears. I chuck my toy on my nightstand. I’ll clean it tomorrow. Instead, I roll over on my side and pinch my eyes shut for a moment so I don’t start crying over a sexting chat with the man who has lived inside my head for far too long.

Jack: Go to bed and don’t overthink this. It was fun. I had fun, and I hope you did too. But you’re more than that to me, and I think you already know it.

Me: Don’t say that to me. Please don’t fucking say that to me.

I bite my lip so I don’t sob.

Jack: I won’t again. I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to think… never mind.

Me: Good night, Jack.

Jack: Good night, beautiful Wren.

Insipid tears leak from my eyes, and I plug in my phone and force myself to fall asleep. I won’t dream about him tonight, but I’m already crying over him again. And nothing good for me will come from that.

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