She was certainly hot and wet right now. All it took was closing her eyes and recalling the rough pad of his finger on her clitoris. Max put her hand between her legs. Yep. Warm and slippery. She’d removed the tights and skirt to snuggle more comfortably beneath the covers. Her panties followed.
A little tiny self-induced orgasm would help her fall asleep. Going solo carried the same shameful taint, but at least only she knew about it. And Cameron. He remained blissfully silent as she opened her legs and delved deeper through the soft curls. Ooh, yes, that was nice. Slow. Easy. Dipping to coat her fingers, she slid back to circle, imagining Witt’s telling blue gaze on the plane, his pupils dilated, a hint of a smile because he knew how very good he was. Ah, yes. It was so hot, too many covers. Without missing a beat, she kicked the blankets aside, spread herself wide, and arched back into the pillow. She let her mind wander until she could feel Witt inside, stretching her, filling her up. Pressing harder, swirling faster, she pretended it was his rhythm she played to. She dug her heels into the mattress and rose of the bed to meet his frantic pump. There, almost there. Her skin tingled, her breath puffed, and colors collided behind her eyelids.
She was going to scream, about to lose it, completely, utterly. The coppery taste of blood burst on her tongue. She’d bitten too hard on the inside of her cheek. The tang drove her higher. The bed shook and dipped beneath her.
“Let it out, sweetheart.”
She imagined Witt’s voice inside her head the way she always heard Cameron’s.
“Scream. I wanna hear you come.” His touch feathered along her inner thighs, parting her legs to maximum.
She didn’t open her eyes. Couldn’t. All her body heat receded from her extremities and the heart of her sex to burn in her cheeks. “What are you doing here?”
“Watching.”
“This is a very private moment, you know.”
“Share,” Witt murmured like a sorcerer mesmerizing his victim.
She opened her eyes a slit, no more. Witt lay between her legs, his big hands exposing her to the greedy blue flame of his eyes.
“It’s not sharing if I’m doing it myself,” she finally managed.
“Wrong. Letting me watch is sharing.”
She swallowed, hurting her suddenly dry throat. “But—” It wasn’t as if she hadn’t done this for a man before. It had always been a power trip, though, a way to push them to their limit and gain complete control.
Witt moved his leg, the soft material of sweat pants brushing her calf. He’d changed, too. “Will it help if I do it with you?”
She raised her head from the pillow to find that he’d already sheathed himself with his fist. He couldn’t hold it all, his crown shiny with pre-cum, his cock rigid.
“This is too embarrassing,” she murmured. Mortifying. It was on par with sharing a bathroom. The worst kind of intimacy. Almost a commitment.
“Never embarrassing. It’s hot. Heard your little moans through the door and I almost came before I made it over here.”
Ah, yes, Cameron’d had her unlock the door for him.
Witt had heard her. She rolled her eyes back, then closed them.
He stroked her bare thigh with his penis, leaving a warm, wet trail. “I wanna come on you right when you orgasm.”
“That’s sick and kinky.”
“So freaking hot, it blows my mind.” His warm breath bathed her pubic hair, then he grazed her overheated flesh with his tongue. “Kinky and sick are the products of a warped mind. Couldn’t happen between you and me. You’re so wet. Let me watch.”
She scrubbed her eyes. He always asked for more than she was willing to give, things she desperately wanted to give.
With a finger, he penetrated her, then he was gone again, except for his weight between her legs. She heard the soft pop of his lips as he licked away her essence, and something inside her gave way. Moisture leaked from her, heat flushed her flesh.
“Look how wet that made you. You want me to watch.”
She shook her head against the pillow, then burrowed in with the side of her face. Her chest seemed filled to bursting, and her blood pulsed against her eardrums. “Go away.”
He grabbed her thigh in his beefy hand. “Open your eyes.”
“No.”
He blew warm breath on her. She spasmed, but didn’t come.
“Look at me.”
If she looked at him, there’d be no turning back. She’d do anything he wanted. If she looked at him, she’d give him another piece of her soul.
Max opened her eyes. Then she propped herself on her elbows. His lips were only inches from her core. His fist pumped lightly up and down his length. Droplets of cum seeped into the creases of his wrapped hand. She licked her lips, tasting him on her tongue as if she’d swallowed him only a short time ago.
“Trust me, Max.”
Trust him to what? To make it a good orgasm? To take away her shame? To never die?
He was beautiful. His thick cock. His chiseled body. His blue eyes and his short blond hair. That damn dimple in his chin. And most especially his eyes, bluer than her mother’s spring bluebells.
Everyone she’d trusted in the past had died on her.
Witt wouldn’t.