Page 24 of Bedding Rose
My eyes flutter closed as my fingers tease up and down the length of my slit, which is already plump and swollen.
Is he touching himself right now? Is he jerking off, thinking about that kiss the same way I am? Fantasizing about me the way I’m thinking about him?
All my life I wished for something like this, nevereverexpecting it to happen. Now, that kiss and that text make secret wishes seem like they might be reality. I’m a bit starstruck by that fact and more than a little lust-drunk as I wonder how thick his cock is. Would it hurt … stretch me wide? I hope so.
Regret that I didn’t rub up against him more earlier surges through me, though I do have to admit that years of staring at him makes me think his package won’t disappoint. Back when I was still a virgin, years ago, I remember one summer night in particular when he wore board shorts, no t-shirt, and a few gold necklaces that overlapped. My teenage brain had seared the image of his bare chest, dark nipples, and rock-solid abs into my skull even though the outline of his dick in those blue shorts had intimidated me. Of course, that was back when the idea of a guy coming on me would have made me pull a face.
Now?
Now the idea of him marking me with his cum only turns me on more. I kind of hope he’s the type to pull my hair and hold me in place while he defiles me. Even better if he whispers dirty words in a smattering of English and Spanish.
I drop my phone to my side and pull my hand off my slit so that I can shove my panties down. Fingers aren’t going to be enough right now. I’m already panting and soaked, my body needy and worked up from earlier, almost aching at this point. I roll onto my side and yank open my nightstand drawer, grabbing my lipstick vibrator.
I don’t even need lube. That dirty text Angelo sent, and the fact that he sent it thinking I couldn’t see it, that’s all the foreplay I need.
I flick on my buzzing little friend and press it to my clit as my other hand snakes underneath my bra and plucks at my nipple.
Desire rushes up through me faster and more potent than any other I’ve ever felt. Angelo’s dark eyes invade my mind and I imagine his plush lips on my ear as I whisper his words aloud. “I’m going to pin you down …” I don’t even make it all the way through his sentence before I’m whimpering, my thighs trembling, my pussy clenching harder than it ever has in my life. Fuck! Sparks fly through my body until nothing matters but the mindless, blissful hum that fills my mind. Yes. I crank up the intensity of the vibrations and draw out my pleasure again and again until I can’t take it any longer and my hips collapse back down against the mattress.
Fastest. Longest. Orgasm. Ever.
I toss the toy aside and reach for my phone, only to find three more texts.
Bastard:Did you unblock me?
Aw shit!
How could he tell? My face heats up and I slide underneath my covers, tenting them in my embarrassment. But that’s no good, because it smells like sex under there, a stark reminder of the crazily stupid things Angelo can get me to do with just a look or a hot line. Fuck me. I shove the sheets back off my face and read the next texts.
Bastard:Lil reina?
Bastard:I’m not taking back what I said. But I’ll add that I’m going to spread your thighs and go to town like I’m in a watermelon-eating contest. I’m going to eat you until you beg me for mercy. But you should know I’m mean, baby. I won’t stop until you’re sobbing.
Damn. Is he always a dirty talker? Because that last one gives me a very intense visual and it’s nasty but I also kind of like the idea of his cheeks soaked from eating me out and the indirect promise of multiple orgasms. Shit. My clit flares weakly back to life for just a moment before waving the white flag. Not yet.
A new text pings.
Bastard:It’s going to happen.
Yeah, we’ll see about that.
Part of me loves his confidence and dominance and wants to sass back, engage in whatever game he’s playing.
I chew on my thumbnail as I debate what to do.
But, honestly? I haven’t forgiven him and I’m not sure he deserves to be absolved after what he’s done. Yeah, I might be a little bit of an idiot around him. But texting isn’t the same as him standing in front of me with bedroom eyes, and I find the strength to resist his lure. So, I swipe back over and block him again, but not before I screenshot those texts he sent.
Because I at least deserve some hot spank bank material out of this mess.
* * *
Pink streaksof morning light halo Daisy shivering on our stoop in a puffy white coat. Her brown hair is in a French braid and her pale cheeks are flushed. The bright, clear sky gives the impression that the day should be warm instead of cold. It’s not—the second I open the glass-paned front door at her knock, my breath mists in the frigid cold. The sun and the temperature are clearly at odds.
Just like my best friend and me.
But as she stares at me with her gray eyes and droops her lips to give me a begging puppy face, I can’t help but want to erase the awkward, distant feeling between us. So I lean forward and give her a giant hug.
Tears choke me up when her arms encircle me and she squeezes me back.
