Page 94 of Trailer Trash

“Oh,” I whisper.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to. I usually watch livecams when I use it. I have a particular girl I like to watch. I can get my phone and—”

“No!” I yelp. I shift uncomfortably. “You don’t need to look at another woman.”

He purses his lips, stifling a smile, surely amused by my frantic reaction.

I don’t care, though, and find myself removing my top. I rise and undo my drawstring, then push my bottoms over my round hips. I don’t look at Killian.

“Your bra and those fuckin’ ugly panties.”

I giggle and roll my eyes at him. He smirks with that crooked, sexy smile that leaves me breathless.

“Come on,” he murmurs. “I’m half-there. I just need the full visual.”

He seems all the way hard, but I do as he says. I peek over.

His underwear comes off. Once again, I look away the second I see his rock-hard cock.

Ugh. I miss him.

I want him inside of me again.

This feels so wrong. I tell myself what any sane girl would: He just wants to get off, and I’ll probably end up broken after.

I sit down and hold myself, debating what I should do.

Of course, Killian’s a man and not thinking of anything but sex. He probably doesn’t notice or care that an emotional hurricane is tearing me up inside.

He pours lube into the toy, slicks his palm, and strokes himself from base to tip until his cock glistens in the dim light. I’m suddenly transfixed, the storm calming as I gawk. Just before he slides the toy onto his shaft, words spill from my mouth, fast and loud.

“So, do you pump it with your hand?”

As if he is a professor teaching me, he speaks very matter-of-factly.

“Sometimes. It can be mounted to the wall, in a shower, or I can wedge it between the mattress and box spring, then fuck it on my knees. I’ll use my hand this time... unless you want to hold it while I fuck it.”

My eyes widen, and I suck in a sharp breath. “Uh. Okay.”

Inside, I’m giddy and proud of myself for saying yes. It feels good to let go.

Really good.

It seems so fast, but suddenly, the fleshlight is clutched tightly in my hands. Since I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, his cock is eye-level. I peek up with a nervous smile.

He doesn’t return a grin.

“Look at you. Naked, shaking, holding something for me to fuck. Being pathetic again?”

That’s when I realize, he’s right. I’m shaking.

“It’s okay. It’s cute,” he murmurs, his eyes intense.

I exhale and blush, but he doesn’t wait for my response. His hips lean forward, feeding himself into the tube I’m holding with a freaking death grip. His palms come to a rest on top of my head, as if he needs to touch me or grip something. I let him, and he takes his first, agonizingly slow thrust.

Uhh. I wish he were feeding that slick, hard cock into me instead. I should suggest that. I should just let him use me if he’s horny. Worry about the consequences later. Yes. Okay, say that.

I draw in a deep breath, and...