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On his end, Dylan chuckles. I think he’s lying in bed, or maybe he’s on his own couch. It’s a little too dark to tell, and I may be tipsier than I thought I was. “Me either. But there’s a first time for everything.”
“So, what are we supposed to do?” I ask, and Dylan’s smile says his mind’s already coming up with a lot of very naughty ideas. As I shift on the sofa, I realize just how turned on I am.
“Bring the phone down, and pull your shift down so I can see your chest,” he says. “Every day, I see you in your work clothes, and I can trace the curve of your breasts through your blouse, and it makes me look forward to our after hours.”
I smile and bring my phone down, showing the curve of my breasts through the thin cotton of my sleep shirt. “Is this what you see that gets you hard?” I ask, playfully stroking the underside of my left breast. The sensation makes me shiver, and I inhale deeply. “I love when you play with them.”
“I know you do,” Dylan says, sounding cocky. “What else do you like?” he asks and readjusts.
“I like… I like when you kiss me,” I reply, bringing my hand up and teasing my nipple, gasping softly. “I like when you kiss me on the side of the neck… like right beneath my ear, and make me feel…” I trail off, not sure how to describe it.
“How do I make you feel?” Dylan asks, his voice thick.
I should say sexy or needy or on fire, because he does make me feel all those things. But that’s not what comes out. “You make me feel wanted and… special,” I admit, my thighs rubbing together as Dylan looks at me with hunger written on his face.
“You are special, Raven,” Dylan says, licking his lips unconsciously. “You know I want you more than anything,” he confides in me and then tells me to touch myself and to be a good girl for him.
“Show me too,” I whisper, and Dylan smirks. I moan, and Dylan inhales sharply, bringing his phone down so I can watch as he strokes himself. His camera switches, and then I’m looking at his pants as he pushes them down, and then I see him. It’s amazing, and strange at the same time, seeing him like this. I’ve had his cock everywhere,but seeing him like a voyeur as he wraps his fingers around the thick shaft and squeezes, making a gleaming drop of precum leak out, has me hotter than I ever thought it could. “Fuck me.”
“That’s what we’re going to do,” he says, his voice rough. “Put your camera up so I can see that pretty pussy. I want to watch you touch yourself.”
Maneuvering, I push my sleep shorts down and adjust my phone so that he can see my fingers running down my belly and to the edge of my pussy, the lips already parted and wet for him.
“So fucking pretty,” he praises as he starts pumping his cock in and out of his fist. “I love watching my cock disappear between those tight lips of yours, holding you still and pumping in and out of you…”
His words trail off, but I don’t care. I’m entranced by the sight of his cock, his hand stroking up and down his shaft, his thumb gathering up a bit of precum before smearing it around his head. I moan, touching myself and wishing it were him. I use my other hand to rub my clit. It’s not as smooth, but I’m too far and don’t need much to get there.
We go quiet. I can hear his breathing pick up. He moans my name while watching me. I can see that he’s holding back for me, waiting for me to shatter.
“Together?” I pant.
He grunts as if it’s hurting him to be this on edge. “Come for me, Darling.”
I gasp as the waves hit me, pulling me under. I force my eyes to stay open, locked on my phone so I don’t miss a thing as Dylan moans my name and comes undone.
“Holy… fuck,” I rasp, panting.
Dylan chuckles, but he looks as spent than I do.
“Feel better, Darling?” His voice rumbles in his chest sexily.
I nod happily. “Yeah,” I say with a smile. “And I have to getup early in the morning for work. My boss is kind of a stickler for the rules.” I arch a brow, teasing him.
“I know the type,” he deadpans, and I laugh. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Sharpe.”
“Goodnight, Miss Hill.”
CHAPTER 23
RAVEN
One of the largest adjustments I had to make when I moved from upstate to the city was shopping.
Back home, I did it like most people think of when they think of weekly shopping. I’d get in my car (or most likely, rode shotgun in my mother’s SUV while Mom drove), and go down to the local shopping center. There, we’d go into the supermarket, pushing the cart up and down each aisle, picking up what we needed for a family of four for the week, and maybe at the same time, stop at the nearby Target for some fun retail therapy. We’d load it all up in the back of the car and drive home.
Shopping in the city is nothing like that. But I’ve adapted to city shopping, which means stopping by your local bodega or corner grocer on a daily or every other day basis, usually to grab the stuff you need to finish out your plans for the night. You can also, in some neighborhoods, find vegetable stands ormeat shops, although that really varies depending on the economic status of the neighborhood you live in.
