Page 32 of Beautiful Mess

The message shows read immediately, but he doesn’t respond right away. My heart attempts to beat right through my ribs as I stare at the screen, finishing the rest of my wine. I shouldn’t have said that. A man like Conway wouldn’t be into sending nudes, right?

Wrong.

My jaw drops open as a new message comes through. A picture of Conway, clearly taken in his bed. His face isn’t visible, but the wide expanse of his chest covered in a dark smattering of hair that leads a path down his abdomen and straight to his impressive dick makes my mouth water. Not the best angle, but it doesn’t even matter. It’sglorious. The night we had sex, I didn’t get a good look at it because it was dark and we moved too quickly, but it looks even better than I imagined. It’s hard and red, lying flat against his stomach, and there’s thick, blue veins running along the shaft that make my mouth water with the desire to trace them with my tongue.

Conway: Your turn. ;) Let me see those perky tits of yours.

I shouldn’t.

Like, Ireallyshouldn’t…right? I called his bluff, and he proved me wrong. That’s all this was. Or, is. Even through wine fog, I know sending Conway any sort of picture, clothed or not, is a bad,badidea.

Yet it would seem my thumbs are operating under the order of my slutty, no-shame pussy and not the logical part of my brain because I’m typing out two words—that arenot“no way” or “fuck off”—before I even know what’s happening.

Me: Say please.

My lip curls into a smirk as I add the angel emoji before pressing send.So much for self-control.It’s a really…reallynice dick. I’d like to see anybody else manage tonotfold under the sight of it.

Conway: Please is only reserved for after you drain my balls so well that I beg for more. Don’t make me ask again, Sin.

Holy fuck.The mouth on this man. I clench my thighs together, trying to alleviate some of the ache as I switch on the camera app and lift my pajama shirt up. Pushing my breasts together with my arms until I’m happy with the way they look, I snap a few pictures before finding my favorite and sending it to him. The bottom half of my face is visible, and my lips are blowing a kiss. Not to toot my own horn, but it’s a damn good picture. My boobs look incredible and, in fact, perky, and the dark shade of my hard nipples is a nice contrast to my barely tan skin.

Conway: Want to know a fantasy of mine?

Me: Obviously. *upside down smile emoji*

Conway: Bending your bratty ass over and spanking you until you beg me to fuck you. I’d flip you over, and sink my cock into your hungry cunt, fucking you until you can’t think straight while I suck on those delicious fucking nipples.

A shiver ripples through my body as my thighs clench. My pussy’s so wet, I can feel the moisture cover my panties.

This is a bad idea.

Put a stop to it, Grace.It’s not worth the hurt that will come.

It’s a bad idea. A horrible one.

Too bad the “hungry cunt” Conway speaks of doesn’t give a single shit about how bad of an idea it is.

Me: So, get over here and prove it. Come spank me, Daddy.

Hitting send, I think I’m going to be sick. Tossing the phone onto the coffee table, I jump off the couch and grab my wineglass, bringing it in the kitchen. After I rinse it and put it in the dishwasher, I pad over to my phone again, my stomach in knots as I check to see if he’s responded.

He hasn’t.

But he did read it.

Oh, fuck. Why would I send that? It’s late, and a work night. He’s not going to come over. He was clearly already in bed, ready to go to sleep, I’m sure.

Five minutes pass agonizingly slowly, and I’m convinced he’s not coming. Leave it to Conway to be an absolute douchebag and leave me on read after I say something like that. But just as I turn off the TV and flip off the lights, ready to head to bed, I hear it.

The soft sound of knuckles rapping on the front door.

Fourteen

Conway

The sight of Grace as she opens the front door steals my breath away. The white tank top she’s wearing is tight enough that I can see the outline of the nipples I’ve been fantasizing about sucking on since she sent me that picture, and it comes to just below her navel, revealing an inch of her smooth, creamy stomach, and the purple and white checkered pajama shorts she’s wearing are short enough, I’d bet the bottom of her ass checks show.

Holding the door open, she leans against the frame as she peers up at me with a barely-there smirk curling her lip and a glint in her eye that makes my cock twitch. “Didn’t think you’d actually come,” she murmurs.

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