Page 39 of Branded
That would be a no.
Unless bringing myself to several orgasms with a dick I was pretending was Smitty’s was considered processing.
Hell, who knew?
Maybe it was in the fucked-up world of my brain and?—
“Not tonight, Kailey,” I whispered, rolling my shoulders and concentrating on my breathing. No spiraling when I was feeling loose and relaxed after my bath. No panicking when it was just me and my vibrator and—I picked up my Kindle—my favorite fictional sex god.
“Right.”
I turned on my TV.
And was that me turning it straight to a season of a certain baking show where the contestants had lovely, smart-sounding accents and they all supported each other while trying to win a crystal cake stand?
Maybe.
But it was also the perfect background sound to my…efforts.
Not too distracting. Something I’d watched a million times before (and not while I was getting off). No sudden loud explosions or songs.
Just sweet people baking sweet things and making the occasional irreverent pun.
Perfect masturbation material.
And perhaps when I finished, I’d finally learn how to make the perfect kouign amman.
Right.
Covers back. Lube out—not that I needed it considering I’d been in a perpetual state of wet since Smitty had kissed me in my office. Vibrator on and…oh fuck yeah…in. Dialing in the settings until my hips were rocking, my head digging back into my pillow, my eyes mere slits as I read my favorite scene in my favorite smutty book that I’d already had queued on my Kindle.
“You’ll take it, and you’ll like it.”
That was the hero speaking, but I heard it in Smitty’s voice.
“You’ll take it all, little bird?”
My breath catching.
Time counting down on the TV.
My pleasure beginning to ramp up.
My clit was pulsing. My pussy clenching around the hard shaft of my vibrator, wishing it wasn’t just a vibrator, wishing it was…Smitty.
That he was there.
It would be good if he were there. Not like the other times.
He would make it good.
I knew that somewhere deep inside.
Deep.
Heh.
My chuckle had the vibrator moving and suddenly, it was hitting just the right spot. I moaned, my spine arching, hips canting, working myself against the toy. The E-reader was forgotten as my heels dug into my mattress, one hand keeping the vibrator in place, the other coming to my breasts, cupping roughly before rolling my nipple between thumb and forefinger.
