Page 77 of Don't Make Me Beg
I can almost hear his deep voice coaching me from between my thighs, telling me what to do, how to move…
“Oh God,” I cry out, the pleasure cresting so high it steals the air from my lungs. I don’t even care how loud I am; nothing matters right now but the ecstasy flooding my body. I feel like I’m walking on the edge of a cliff, bound to fall over any second.
I bite down on my hand, dragging the vibrator back to the perfect spot, desperate to tip over the edge.
But the buzzing fades.
Panic flares as I fumble with the buttons, trying to crank the intensity back up. The pulsing grows even weaker… sputters…
And then it dies completely.
“No. No. No!” My voice comes out breathless, laced with a level of desperation I don’t even recognize. I jab the button like I can shock her back to life—CPR-style, but it’s no use. The light’s gone, the hum is silent. Marilyn officially flatlined.
The pleasure that had been building had been so close that I could taste it, but it slipped through my fingers like a puff of smoke. All that’s left is a sharp, bitter ache of disappointment.
I was rightthere.
I bury my face in the pillow, trying to catch my breath, when my brain shifts into problem-solving mode.
There’s got to be a charger somewhere, right?
The next thing I know, I’m flying out of bed, completely naked, and my wet hair is clinging to my face as I tear through my underwear drawer like a woman possessed. “Aha!” I grab the vibrator box and dump it upside down.
A small instructional booklet falls to the floor. But no charger.
What kind of monster sells a vibrator without a charger?
Before I can spiral any further, a knock echoes from the door, tearing my attention away. I freeze.
“Scout? You about ready?”
I catch my reflection in the full-length mirror, and I nearly shriek. My hair’s matted and hanging like I’ve just escaped a swamp, my eyes are wild, pupils blown like I barely survived to tell the tale. I look exactly how you’d expect a woman to look after chasing an orgasm and being abandoned at the finish line.
A quick glance at the clock informs me that I absolutely did not have enough time for this.
That’s just great. I guess that’s what I get for trying to live in the moment.
“Yep. Be right there!” I call back as I frantically scoop up the evidence.
Maybe I’ll get lucky and the vibrations from Luka’s motorcycle will finish the job?
Sadly, at this point, I’d take it.
“Here’s fine,” I say, tapping Luka’s shoulder and barely waiting for the bike to stop before I’m climbing off.
“Whoa, what’s the rush?” He lifts the tinted glass of his helmet up so he can hear me, but I see the smile in his eyes.
I shove my helmet at him. “Was it really necessary to drive down the railroad tracks?”
He raises a brow as he says, “I was just trying to do what I could to help. I figured you could use it, considering you were interrupted this morning.”
I feel my face grow hot with annoyance and embarrassment, but I don’t bother trying to deny it. At this point, I’m so sexually frustrated and confused, I’m one pothole away from lying down right here in the middle of the street and letting Luka finish me off.
I thought I was sexually frustrated earlier, but having my orgasm so close and then having it ripped away is so much worse than feeling nervous. Why did I think trying out the vibrator was a good idea, knowing I wouldn’t have time to deal with anytechnical difficulties…
Rookie mistake.
I narrow my eyes, remembering why I’m in this predicament at all. “Don’t you dare act innocent right now. This is your fault.”
