Page 57 of For Keeps. For Always.

The screen moves messily as she adjusts her cell into position, and I almost drop my phone the moment she comes into full view.

Completely.Naked.

Everything in view.

Everything.

The last time I saw Henley naked was when she was seventeen. Even filtered through a grainy screen, she’s just as beautiful. Not that I doubted that for a second.

The stretch of her skin looks as silky as it was over five years ago. Like butter under my lips, melting with every touch.

Legs bent upward, she’s resting them on what I can only assume is a headboard—not visible on the screen. The backs of her thighs frame the shot, miles of sleek skin begging for my tongue.

But what steals my breath completely, what robs me of coherent thought, what causes every last drop of blood in my body to rush to my cock. . . is her pussy.

Open and exposed. Front and center.

I can see by the swell and shine of her bare lips that she started her solo act prior to recording. She’s stretched open to accommodate the two fingers currently pushing in and out, fucking herself for my viewing pleasure.

I can’t see her face, but I’m man enough to admit my focus wouldn’t be on her eyes right now. Not with what she’s offering.

I can hear the sound of her arousal, her wetness echoing through the line every time she thrusts her fingers in and out of her body.

She pauses at times, fingers buried deep within, to rub tight circles against her sweet spot, her palm pressing roughly against her clit.

She moans.

Illegible little grunts of pleasure that make my dick stand on end.

Fuck.

“Pull your fingers out, baby,” I beg her video, sitting up to free my throbbing cock. “Let me see how wet you are for me.”

As though she read my thoughts, her fingers slide out, and I growl, fisting myself violently. Her juices are thick, making her fingers shine, and I’d give my left nut to suck them clean. To taste her excitement. To balance her on my tongue and savor her for an eternity.

The pads of her fingers rub at her clit coarsely.

I wish I could command her to slow down. I’m not ready for her to come. I want to watch her for longer. Hear her cries of pleasure and the salaciously wet sound of her fucking herself.

Her back arches.

“I’m throbbing,” she tells me.

“Same, baby,” I respond to the empty room, my breathing ragged.

“I’d die for your cock, Brooks.” Her fingers continue to rub unevenly over her clit, moving up and down and side to side over and over again. “For it to slam inside me rightnow.”

I can see the way her thigh muscles tighten, the dip of her stomach.

She’s close.

So fucking close.

She cries out, and I jerk my dick up and down. Rigid strokes that force me—even while sitting—to bend at the waist, the feeling buckling every nerve ending within me.

“I’d come instantly.” She thrusts her fingers inside, lifting her hips to push them as deep as she can.

“Brooks!” she yells out, her fingers never stopping the desperate way she uses them as she breaks apart for me.

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