Page 74 of Delay of Game
I try to conjure up the exact feel of her skin under my touch, the soft mounds of her breasts, the taut muscle of her back, the hardness of his hipbone. The memory wasn’t nearly as good as the real thing.
“What are you doing right now?” I asked as she let out a soft moan.
“Touching myself where you touched me,” she admitted, voice breathy. “Over my stomach. I love how you cupped my breasts, running your thumbs over them to make them hard.”
I unbutton my pants, my dick painfully hard as I release it from the confines of my jeans.
“Do you know what I really wanted to do?”
I gripped my shaft, pulling up. “What?”
“I wanted you in my mouth. To sink down onto my knees and take all of you.”
“Hell, Astrid.” I loosened my grip. Even five minutes down the road, this woman could make me come.
“What happens once we’re in your bedroom?” Her breathy voice spurred me on.
“I lock the fucking door, for one.”
She chuckled. “That’s a good start.”
“I tear your clothes off before I put you down.”
“I like it.” She exhaled in short, breathy bursts.
“I kiss you until you’re begging me for more.”
“That wouldn’t take long.”
“I kiss my way down your naked body and lick you until you scream.” I stroked my dick slowly. “Where are your hands?”
“One on the phone, the other on my pussy.”
“Fuck, I love the way you say that.”
“I wish it was your hands. Your mouth. Your cock.”
I pressed my head against the cool window, tempering my breath even as the speed of my hand quickened. “I’d want you on top. I’d want to watch you perfect body while I came. Touch you while you use me to come.”
“It wouldn’t take long.”
“Tell me when you’re going to come, Astrid.” I bit my lip, waiting for her. Wanting her.
“I’m close,” she whimpered on the other end of the line.
I tightened my grip, closing my eyes to a vision of her, absolutely fucking perfect on top of me. “Come for me, baby.”
“I am.” Her breath caught. “Rob.”
At her moaning my name, I came over, white hot ejaculate spilling onto the steering wheel and my pants, and I didn’t fucking care a single bit because everything in my head was Astrid. The faint smell of flowers on her body. The exact shade of her green eyes. Her laugh. How good she felt in my arms.
I sucked in a breath, tipping my head back as everything cleared.
“Is it out of your system?” she asked, breathless.
“No,” I admitted, my body spent and my mind too addled to care about telling her anything besides the truth.
“Me neither.”
