“What?” I couldn’t possibly have heard him right.
“Caress your leg, then slide your fingers up to heaven.” The amusement in his voice didn’t overshadow the tone of command.
I hesitated only briefly, then slowly did as he said. My touch was feather light and just as enticing, and I stroked down my leg, then slowly trailed my fingers up my inner thigh. A string of electric sparks, like a kickline of fireflies, seemed to follow my touch. I kept my eyes closed. Not because he’d commanded it, and not even because of embarrassment. But because it helped me to see—and what I was looking at was Evan’s hands stroking my body.
“Oh, Angie,” he said, as I trailed one fingertip over the soft skin between my thigh and my sex. His voice sounded wrecked, even painful, and I couldn’t help but smile as I imagined his erection straining against his slacks.
“Stroke yourself,” he said. “Tease your cunt. Do you feel how wet you are?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Imagine those fingers are mine—”
“I am.”
He groaned before continuing to speak. “And imagine that I’m playing with you. That I’m sliding my finger deep inside you. That I’m teasing your clit. Stroking it, finding that perfect rhythm.”
My hand moved in time with his words, and I spread my legs wider as the pressure inside me built. I was imagining it was his touch, yes, but at the same time I couldn’t deny the thrill of knowing that he wasn’t the one touching me. That he was only watching. And that seeing the way I touched myself was making him hard.
“Please,” I said, because I was so very close now. “Please, I want you touching me.”
“I want that, too,” he said. “But right now I’m enjoying this particular view. And from the way your pretty pink cunt is glistening, I think you’re enjoying it, too.”
I bit my lower lip, both in silent protest and in agreement.
“So tell me, Angie. Are you enjoying it?” His smooth voice was like an oral seduction.
I nodded. Right then, I couldn’t manage words.
“You like me looking at you?”
“Yes,” I said, though I’m not sure I actually managed a word.
“Does it make you hot, knowing I can see just how aroused you are?”
“Yes,” I said, my fingers continuing their dance.
“Come for me, baby.” His command was low and full of heat, and as his words washed over me, the orgasm building inside me unfolded, filling me up and growing and growing until it had no choice but to burst free. “I want to watch you explode and know that I took you there without even having to touch you.”
As if he’d commanded it, my body seized up and then shattered. My climax ripped through me in time with his words, destroying me so thoroughly I wasn’t quite sure I could ever get myself back together again.
When I finally lay there, calm but breathing hard, Evan was sitting beside me, his hands caressing me, his touch more like worship than exploration. “You’re amazing,” he said, then closed his mouth over mine and took me in a kiss so deep and consuming it almost had me coming again.
I tried unsuccessfully to silence the drum-like pounding of my heart so that I could speak when his mouth left mine and he sat up again. But my pulse wouldn’t settle. I’d never experienced anything like what he’d just given me, and all I wanted was more. All I wanted was everything.
“Please,” I managed to say.
“Please what?”
“I—I want the rest. I want everything you promised.”
“Do you?”
I started to sit up, but he shook his head, a gentle hand keeping me on my back. “There’s something I need to know,” he said. “Do you wear pantyhose or stockings? Maybe tights in the winter?”
The question baffled me. “Um, yeah.”
“Where?”
“In the dresser. Left side, middle drawer.” It was only after he’d eased off the bed and was opening the drawer that I realized what he intended to do.
“Evan, I’m not sure that’s such a—”