Page 64 of If This Was a Movie

Another wave of pleasure rolls through me at the image I like best: Nate on his back, phone to his ear, shirt hiked up, those sweats he’s always wearing pushed just low enough to jack himself off. The head swollen with arousal, a drop of pre-cum?—

“God, you sound so pretty like this—whimpering and moaning.”

“I’m thinking of you,” I admit, my filter gone altogether.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” He groans loudly. “Stop playing with your clit and slide one finger inside you, baby,” he demands.

“But I want—” I start to whine.

“I said stop playing with your clit and slide in one finger, Julianne.” The words are firm, and something about the tone and the way he uses my full name has me whimpering. “Only one.”

“Okay,” I whisper, doing as he asked and sighing at the feel as I clamp down instantly, my body wanting to be filled.

“You like that, don’t you?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I sigh, sliding my middle finger out and then back in. “I want more, though.”

He chuckles. “I meant me using your full name. You like it?”

“I mean.” My breath hitches as I slide the finger out once more. “It’s hot. Since you never use it. Except…last time you did.” I’m reminded of the last time we fucked and he bossed me around, using my full name like it was a command.

“Mmm,” he says, contemplative, before a sigh of his own comes over the line.

“What about you?”

“I’m not really into being called Nathan, sweetheart.”

I laugh and shake my head even though he can’t see it. It’s strange, laughing when I’m fingering myself, my body wound tight, but it’s also…us.

“I meant, what are you doing? I’ve got one finger in me—” He moans loudly, and I can almost picture it, the way his eyes would close, the way his Adam’s apple would bob. I bite my lip before continuing, my voice breathier now. “What are you doing?”

“My hand is wrapped around my cock,” he says, not beating around the bush.

“Oh.”

“And I’m pumping it, wishing I was inside you. I remember, you know. How you fucking squeezed me, how you sounded. How you tasted. I’ve been thinking about it for a year. Every time I jacked off, I came to the sound of you moaning my name.”

“Shit, Nate. I want you so fucking bad. I’m close. God, I’m close.” My hips shift, trying to get more despite my following his directions of only one finger and no clit.

“Next time,” he groans. “Next time I’m with you, where do you want it?” The pleasure builds, a mind-numbing orgasm coming despite the lack of friction, and I can’t comprehend what he’s even asking.

“What?”

“The next time I fuck you, when I’m inside of you, where am I coming, baby?”

“Oh.” My mind stops altogether.

“Move back to your clit, but stop fucking yourself so you can listen.” I moan at the way there’s a demand twined in the words and the way I listen without a second thought. “Good girl,” he says, a smile in the words. “Now, Julianne, the next time I get the honor of fucking that tight cunt, where am I coming?”

I clench, my fingers gently circling so as not to tip me over the edge, panting at the thought alone. “You liked when I came on your tits, if I recall.” My eyes drift closed again, remembering when Nate made me come, told me to get on my knees, then painted my breasts with his cum. “And then, we were cleared for me to fill you, fuck you without a condom.” I moan louder, hips bucking. “Ahh, that’s it, isn’t it? That’s what my baby wants.”

God, how is this man’s mouth so fucking filthy?

“She wants me to fill her up, doesn’t she?” I can hear his hand now, the slapping of skin on skin, the way there’s a strain in his words. He’s close, too. “Tell me, Julianne.” The words are said through gritted teeth.

“Yes.” I shiver. “God, yes, Nate. I want you to come inside me next time we’re together. I’m on the pill.”

“Good, baby. I’ll do that soon, okay?” he coos. “You still being good, circling that clit?”

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