AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Beatrice appreciated being able to see it, but she preferred the Coronella estate.
Chapter 24
Beatrice walked out of the shower naked, and it felt glorious. There was no need to cover herself as quickly as she could. No anxiety curled in her stomach. No one was waiting for her outside the door.
She wished Montrell was lying on the bed, but she was in her own room, not his. It was supposed to be her sanctuary, but she found herself considering a change in sleeping arrangements.
Her reflection moved in the mirror, capturing her gaze. She crossed to it, studying herself as she braided her wet hair. She felt beautiful, even with the scars flashing on her wrists as they moved. As she finished, she ran her fingers over the lines. No sense of guilt crashed over her. No feeling of shame. Instead she felt interesting tingles at her touch.
She slid her hand higher, over her biceps and to her shoulders. The sensation followed, raising goose bumps along her arms. Her breasts felt a little heavy.
She studied them in the mirror. The scars slashed in uneven patterns below her areolas. Her fingers traced those scars as well, soft, soothing motions that found each one. She imagined Montrell standing behind her, imagined his hands as the ones touching her. Each caress sent an answering throb down below.
Her legs shifted wider as she continued to explore. The skin of her breasts felt softer than everywhere else, then rough over the line of a scar before her skin felt silky again. The contrast was making her dizzy.
Montrell would be proud of her. He’d be calling her his good girl. As her fingers rubbed around her tightening areolas, she could almost hear his voice in her ear. She couldn’t prevent a soft moan from escaping her lips. Her fingers closed around the tips of her nipples and softly rolled, changing the slight throb to a full-blown ache.
Her legs felt too wobbly to keep going in front of the mirror, and her eyes shifted toward the door. She wondered if she should just run next door naked and leave the nightgown behind altogether tonight. Her gaze passed her nightstand, not registering that it looked different until after her gaze shifted past and then moved back.
She crossed to the small gift box that had been left there, a folded piece of paper propped on top of it. She reached for that first.
‘Let me hear you. – M’
She sank onto the bed, lifting the lid off the box. Inside was a bullet vibrator, similar to the one he’d used on her, but this one was pink. And with it came a small bottle of lube.
The vibrator was hard but also nice to touch, reminding her of Montrell’s cock against her hand. It wasn’t metal or cold, but it wasn’t warm yet either.
She thumbed it on in her hand. The steady vibration could be heard in the silence, but it wasn’t that loud.
Montrell wanted her to learn to pleasure herself. And he wanted to listen to her doing it.
The thought of him masturbating in his room to the sounds of her pleasure sent another throb to her pussy. She only wished she could watch him work his hand over his cock.
Beatrice fell back against her pillows, pulling her legs up on the bed. Her free hand returned to her breast, tightening on her nipple again. A slight tug made her gasp. It wasn’t loud enough to carry to the other room.
The bullet was still vibrating in her other hand. Curious, she brought it to her other nipple, brushing against it. The immediate zap of sensation through her body made her suck her breath in, and her torso arched into the sensation.
When she rested back on the bed, she was already panting. Closing her eyes and imagining it was Montrell’s hands, not her own, roving over her brought out a louder moan.
She could do this. Her hand reached for the lube. She would bring herself to orgasm. A few of them. Then, when she was lubed-up and satisfied, she’d go to Montrell. And she would take exactly what she wanted.
Despite the note Montrell had left with his gift to Beatrice, he avoided returning to his room. Or more because of it. Walking around the estate with an erection was what he deserved for picturing her moaning as she used the vibrator.
In case she was still experimenting, he tried to remain quiet as he closed his door behind him. The first time, she’d wrinkled her nose at the idea of getting lube on her hands. He hoped she’d changed her mind. He wanted her to enjoy herself.
Masturbating was the next step for her to retake control of her body. She should learn to bring herself to orgasm, no matter how desperately he wanted to do it for her.
When he stripped off his clothes, they dragged along his nerve endings. His erection appreciated its newfound freedom, jutting away from his body. He sucked in a breath, trying to hold out, but there was no way he was sleeping that night without bringing himself some relief.
He might not sleep anyway. Two nights shouldn’t have created a habit, but he didn’t like picturing himself in bed without her. He already missed holding her in his arms.
A muted moan came through the wall between their rooms. It was drawn out, as if she’d reached a climax. By the time the sound faded, his cock was beaded with precum, and he hadn’t even touched himself yet.
Montrell groaned as he collapsed on the bed, his hand gripping the base of his cock. A few quick jerks and he was sure he’d come. But hell, if all he would have tonight was the mental image of her head thrown back as she worked her gorgeous cunt with a vibrator, he was going to draw out his own pleasure.
Her moan echoed in his mind as he stroked himself without squeezing, keeping things gentle, like it was her hand touching him, her hand driving him to the brink.
When his palm guided over the head of his cock, he smeared the precum around it and let out his own moan. The wetness made him think of her mouth. His fingers tightened as he pumped down. He cursed at the surge of need, and forced his grip to loosen.
