Another notification from my phone.
I play with my hard nipple, pinching it, and slide the head of my silicone dildo across my clit.
My head falls back and my hips arch, my body hungry for that length inside me.
I slide it up and down, letting my juices cover it.
My phone starts ringing.
A small moan leaves me, and my * ripples. I know who it is without looking. I can almost feel him on the other line.
Always feeling him. Always sensing him.
God, I want him.
I know where this is heading as I reach for my phone—don’t care. Fucking him is impossible. Having phone sex with him will only make things worse in the long run.
My thumb swipes across the screen and I accept the call. At the same time, I turn the vibrator on, pressing it back to my clit.
“Kira—” Brayden’s sharp intake of breath tells me he picked up on the sound of my vibrator.
Just the sound of that breath makes goose bumps break out all over me.
“Tell me to come over,” he demands in a hoarse voice.
I moan. “No. This is all you’re getting.” The sound of my own voice surprises me.
“Oh really?” An utterly masculine chuckle leaves him. I can hear the cockiness in it, and I want to be mad at him for it.
Instead, all I want to do is ride his fucking beautiful face. Come all over his gorgeous lips.
Cover him in my scent so that if any other girl tries to go near his mouth, she’ll know he’s taken.
“This is all I’m getting? Huh, Kira?” He purposely moans my name, drawing the sound out. “Is that why you’re fucking yourself with that little bullet vibrator while imagining it’s me?”
His voice. Lord help me, I’m hooked.
“It’s not a bullet.” I slide the tip inside me, slowly, letting myself feel how it parts me open.
Brayden falls silent, breathing harshly in my ear.
I slip the vibrator in deeper.
“Kira, are you . . . are you fucking yourself with a dildo right now?”
I bite my lip, but it’s not enough to hold back my whimper. “Yes.”
The sound he makes is indescribable. I don’t know if it’s a grunt or a growl, or maybe an angry combination of both. All I know is that he’s not pleased.
“Why?” I ask. “Jealous?”
“How big is it?” he grits out.
Still biting my lip, I let out a little giggle and rock against the head my dildo, teasing myself. “Almost as big as you.”
That sound again. Rough. Horny. Aggravated.
“What?” I moan out the word purposely, pushing the vibrator halfway in. “You don’t like knowing I’m fucking myself?”
He hums; another frustration-filled sound. “My dick is the only dick that belongs inside you.”
That statement shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does, but it’s too fucking delicious to resist. His dick. My dick. The only one with the right to pound into me. The only cock to spurt in me.
I love that thought. I really, really do.
Not that I’ll admit that to him. “That’s your opinion. I . . . ” My breath catches as the dildo slips fully in me and my hand presses into my clit.
“You what, Kira?” His breath races, faster, louder.
Closing my eyes, I let myself get lost in the visual of him thrusting into his fist while he hears me fucking myself. “I beg to differ,” I whisper, lost in sensation.
“You do, do you?” The soft, implied deadliness in his voice. That barely leashed fury.
Why do I love it when he’s jealous? Why? “Uh-huh.” My legs shake harder.
“I’m going to ask you again, baby: is that why you’re thinking about my dick inside you right now?”
I want to hurt him.
Want to fuck him.
God, I want him to keep talking but at the same time, I just want him to shut the fuck up.
I hate when he reaches inside me, grasping at bitter truths I don’t want to acknowledge.
Brayden groans, and the sound is so blatantly sexual that I know he’s doing it on purpose again. Fucking with me. Proving once more the power he has over my body. “Slide it back in, Kira. No, only halfway, baby. Soft, shallow thrusts.”
It’s like he’s in the room, watching every move I make.
“Now slide it back out. Go slow. All the way to the tip.”
I do as he says, feeling my walls clench around the dildo. My body doesn’t want to let it go. It’s not Brayden, but with his voice in my ear, I can almost pretend it is.
“Don’t thrust it in, yet. Hold it there. Right at the tip.”
“No.” My head thrashes side to side. I want to disobey him. Slam the cock in my hand into me. “I need more.”
“Not . . . yet. Pulsate on the tip. I’m squeezing mine right now, imagining it’s your tight *.”
The way this man talks undoes me. A fresh wave of resentment floods me as I think about all the women who have had that cock in them, his sexy voice talking dirty in their ear.
I could have it if I wanted to take it.
But I hate him too much to give him that.
My chest convulses and a pained cry leaves me.
“Baby,” Brayden whispers in a sad tone.
“Let me fuck myself.” Why am I not doing it? Why am I still obeying him?
“Not yet, Kitty. Just a little more.”