Page 63 of Show Me How
Her whimper shoots through me like a fucking bullet on fire. I grit my jaw and strain to keep myself in place.
“I know you’re wet, so get your finger slick and bring it to your clit. It’s fucking aching by now, isn’t it?”
“It is,” she says, her voice breaking at the end.
“Roll it beneath the pad of your finger.Slowly.”
Her hips jerk with the movement of her hand before falling into the bed, pressing into it. Millie’s eyelids fall halfway and then open wider than before.
Every movement of her hand beneath her panties excites me further, and before I know it, my knees are digging into the wooden frame at the edge of the bed. The bite of pain doesn’t register past the arousal making my blood sing.
“What do you need, Millie?”
She’s moving too quickly, chasing the same feeling that’s pulsing through me. It’s clunky, desperate in a way that exposes the reasons behind her every failed orgasm.
I lift one knee to the mattress and lean forward just enough to reach her ankle. With a gentle pull, I bring her leg down straight and stroke the soft, bare skin of her calf.
Her mouth gapes in surprise but then fills with a moan. I tighten my hold on her leg and breathe through my nose. She twitches in my hold, and the movement in her panties speeds up. Our eyes continue to hold, and I risk reaching between her legs to press down on her hand.
It stills, and her brows furrow. The clash of emotions in her gaze has me shaking my head, trying to silence her thoughts.
“Can I touch you?” I ask.
“Touch me . . .” she echoes, asking a question without coming outright with it.
“Over your panties. Let me show you, princess.”
Her muscles relax as she breathes out. “Yes.”
I crawl up the bed and kneel between her spread legs. Keeping her face in my vision instead of where my hand’s moving, I wait for her to slip her fingers free of the silk and then press mine to her centre. She clamps her lips shut and tips her head back, avoiding looking at me.
That’s fine. She doesn’t need to look at me while I do this, as long as she listens and feels. I’m doing more than enough staring for the both of us.
I move two fingers up and down her panties, passing the wet patch and pressing the silk against her swollen skin while I explore, searching for what I need. Her reaction is more than enough confirmation that I’ve found her clit. She can’t hide her cry beneath clamped lips this time. Not when I press my thumbharder and start to massage the spot she was focused on a beat ago.
Millie’s eyes cling to mine, her plea silent but obvious. I grow fascinated with how sensitive and reactive she is. For a woman who has a hard time coming, she feels pleasure easily.
“Is that good? Talk to me, Millie,” I grind out.
She gasps, but it isn’t a proper answer.
“Give me words.”
“Yes! It feels good. You’re—you’re right there,” she whimpers.
Her fingers glide over the bedding as she tries to busy them. I lean over her and drop my head, giving it a shake. Reaching for her hand, I take it and bring it up beneath my shirt. She tips her head back and presses her palm against my abs, lightly scratching them.
“If you need something to touch, you touch me. We’re trying to make you come, so take what you need to get there.”
She nods, gulping air into her lungs. “Where?”
“Where what?”
“Where can I touch you?”
I push her hand up my chest and then to each side before lowering it to the top of my jeans. She keeps her half-lidded eyes on me, curling her fingers into one of my empty belt loops.
“Anywhere,” I rasp.
