Page 30 of Body Language
There was a pause. The kind of pause that isn’t awkward. Then she hummed, low and sweet.
“Where are your hands at right now?” she whispered.
I swallowed. “Huh?”
“You heard me,” she said. “Where are your hands, Kendrix?”
I smirked, dragging a hand across my chest under the sheets. “One on the phone. The other… wondering where it should be.”
“Mmm.” She moaned softly, and I swear that shit went straight through my body like current.
“And yours?”
She giggled, breathy. “You already know.”
That sound had my whole body tightening.
“Let me FaceTime you,” I said quick, already reaching for the button.
“No,” she said, firm but playful. “I want you to use your imagination. Let me speak to your mind.”
“Pretty…” I groaned, running my hand lower.
“Shhh.” She hushed me like she had the right. “Tell me what you’d be doing if I was there.”
I closed my eyes, giving in. “I’d lay you on your stomach first. Spread you out on these sheets. Hands full of your ass while I kiss down your spine.”
She gasped. “Mm. And then?”
“I’d flip you over… slide between your thighs and take my time. Have you begging before I even—”
“Fuck,” she cut in, moaning like I was already there. “Keep talking.”
I cursed under my breath. “Pretty…”
Her moan was soft, but deliberate. “You hear that? You hear how wet I am just thinking about you?”
I gripped myself hard, biting back a groan. “Goddamn.”
“Answer me something,” she whispered.
“What?”
“You like it sloppy… or you like to take your time?”
I groaned. “Both. Start slow, finish messy.”
She giggled, breath uneven. “Exactly how I like it.”
Her breathing picked up. My grip tightened. She whispered every detail like she was choreographing my thoughts. How she’d arch her back, how she’d grab my shoulders, how she’d make me lose every ounce of control I swore I had.
Her voice painted every picture so clear, I didn’t even need the FaceTime. She had me right there with her.
“Say my name,” I muttered.
“Kendrix,” she moaned, drawing it out like a melody.
That was it. That was the breaking point.
