I swallowed the lump in my throat. I was about to speak again but then he cut me off.
“We can stay here for a while. Until you’re ready. I’ve already been outside once today.” So nonchalant. Such an asshole.
In the window beyond his chair, the pine branches beckoned.
“Fine,” I said. It wasn’t fine, but it would have to be. I really did want to go outside. For one, I wanted to see what the house looked like underneath the windows, if there was a possible escape route from the bedroom. And for two… well, I hadn’t been outside in days.
I shoved the pillows up to the top of the bed and lay back, propping my elbows on my knees. Picking up The Cowboy and the Bride, I began to read.
Gav
At first, I could tell she was nervous. The book’s pages flipped rapidly, and I saw her cheeks flush pink. One hand rested on her knee, and the other held the book open, creasing the well-worn spine. How many women had held that book this way, I wondered?
None so beautiful as her. Her hand was soft with curves, her fingernails clipped sensibly. I longed to see her touch herself. Page after page turned, and nothing.
“Are you not used to having someone watch you, kitten?”
She flushed harder. God, her lips were delicious when she bit them slightly, the pucker of her cheeks as she got mad.
“I… I’ve never. Not with someone watching.”
“Take your time, then.”
“I was, thanks.” Her sarcasm was clipped and she raised the book to hide her face.
But then, oh then—her hand moved down, under the hem of her dress. I saw the fabric slide up over her creamy thighs, the sweet pink silk of her panties revealed inch by inch. Her fingers grazed the fabric just over her sweet slit.
I’d tasted her there, and the memory of her delicious flesh aroused me instantly. It’s true, we men are visual creatures. I wanted to watch her, every piece of her, as she touched herself. Thankfully, the book slipped lower and I could see her nose peeking over the cover, then her mouth. Her perfect pink heart of a mouth, almost as tasty as the lips between her thighs.
Her fingers stroked slowly, patiently. So patient. The sensation must be barely there. I could see between her legs the fabric darkening, turning wet. Her eyes softened, her eyelids drooping down at the corners as she continued reading, continued stroking.
Shifting in my seat, I was not prepared for the small gasp that came from her as she found herself. Such a slight squeak of pleasure, and yet it caused a rush of lustful thoughts to come over me. I was hard, getting harder with every small whispering breath of hers, and I couldn’t help but stroke myself with the back of my knuckles, as though smoothing out the fabric of my pants.
“Are you touching yourself over there?” Her voice had a hitch in it, but it was teasing, playful.
“Why did you think I wanted to watch you?”
Her eyebrows raised, and just as quickly settled back down as her eyes moved over another paragraph. Her fingers pressed harder, squeezing from both sides through her panties. She turned the page with her thumb, expertly. So she had done this before, just not with an audience.
I unzipped my pants. She moaned, and my cock twitched. I imagined myself between those legs. She was mine, mine and nobody else’s, but I admit that I couldn’t help but feel jealous that it was not me who was arousing her, not me teasing her to the edge. My hand gripped my cock. Most women I took home couldn’t wait to jump into bed with me. This was… different.
Good, but different.
Kat
The words on the page swam before my eyes. I’d gotten as far as the first hayloft scene, where the cowboy had realized that his bride was, surprise, surprise, a virgin. Then he’d gone down on her, and I’d stopped imagining a cowboy.
My eyelashes fluttered as I moved my hand between my thighs. I could feel myself starting to get wet as I read along, but I wasn’t reading the words anymore. There wasn’t a cowboy in my mind, no virgin bride rolling around on the hay. I was imagining Gavriel.
I tried to bring my thoughts back to the book at hand, but it was no use once he started touching himself. I turned the pages and tried to avoid looking directly at him sitting over there in the chair. He’d pulled out his cock and was stroking it slowly, easily. I watched the foreskin sliding up over his head, then back down, his hand tightening at the base.