Chapter １１

“Yes,” I moan. “That’s what I wanted. All I wanted.” No matter what else is true, this chemistry between us isn’t a new thing. “Isn’t it what you wanted, too?”

He doesn’t answer me with words. He just keeps stroking me on the inside, sending pleasure coiling through me, tighter and tighter. “What I want is for you to come for me. Right now.”

It’s like his words unlock something inside me. I whimper and then I’m orgasming, my pussy clenching around his fingers. “Oh fuck.”

“That’s it. That’s my girl.” He keeps stroking, keeps my orgasm coming in wave after wave, until I’m damn near sobbing. Only then does David ease his fingers out of me, pull my panties up, and maneuver me up until I’m curled in his lap.

A strange lethargy threatens to drag me down. I lean my head against his shoulder and let the rhythm of his breathing soothe me. A ragged inhale. A barely restrained exhaled. We’re both panting as if we just ran a long distance. At least he’s just as affected as I am.

Part of me can’t believe this is happening.

Part of me can’t believe it took this long.

The night isn’t over yet.

Being this close to David is unsettling. I'm sure we've touched before (it's hard not to when he's carrying my inebriated arse out of bars and parties), but he's always been careful to avoid any extended physical contact. We should avoid extending the touch for any longer than is absolutely required.

Gradually, ever-so-gradually, my body stops trembling. Only then does he loosen his arms over me and sit back. “Good?”

Anything beyond "more please" requires more mental energy than it should cost. As for me, I snort. "Like a good spanking will knock me out cold. That's not even the first round of sexual tension!

When he laughs, it's a low chuckle that I can feel more than hear. It was just pre-play, so don't worry about it, birthday girl. David swallows loudly. "Are you going to be able to stand on your own, or do I need to carry you?"

So doing motivates me to act. I am not the type of person who can be knocked out with a few swats of the hand. No, I'm good. My knees almost turn me into a liar as I push off his lap. Although my legs are trembling, I am able to hold my balance. I avoid making eye contact with him lest I respond inappropriately to his possible amusement.

And still David remains immobile in his seat. His face has lost any expression of amusement as he stares at me from deep, inky eyes. "Wow, look at you, Anna. It's like God created you just to entice me. His eyes drift over me, pausing on my face and body with a weight I can almost feel.

"I intend to do much more than only tempt you." I want to put my hands on him, feel his massive, supple body, and unbutton his pants to feel the full force of his cock. In fact, it appears to be somewhat uncomfortable, given how hard it is pressing against the front of his jeans. I play with my mouth by licking it. It hurts, but I know just what to do to make it better.

I try to touch him on the chest, but he intercepts my hand just in time. David gives a slow head shake. You don't deserve that just yet

Deserved it?

If there was more air, I might be able to chuckle. Suck your cock is what I desire. Surely you won't disagree with me on that."

He raises his brows. "You seem to have the false notion that you are in command of this interaction. No, you're not.

What sense does it make to keep us from having what we both want?"

He taps my wrist gently with his thumb. “Do you send a lot of videos like the one you gave me?”

“You’ve seen my social media.” There is a shrug of my shoulders. "I'm good with images, and there's a trick to doing it right, so why not?"

“Anna.” He does a very slight fist tightening. When comparing what you've posted publicly with what you've sent me, there's a big contrast. To be honest, it's artsy and stuff when you're mostly naked.

“I’m mostly naked right now.” So as to put him to the test, I pull against his hold. When I am trapped, my entire body feels tight and dependent. And what in the f*** are you referring to? A work of art, that film.

I am the subject of his scrutiny. To which the respondent can only say, "Show me."

“Show you what?”

The speaker then says, "You know what."

I suppose I do. I walk over to where I had previously dropped my phone and pick it up. The moment I am within reach, he pulls me down onto his lap so that my back is on his chest. The sheer volume of David's exposed skin causes me to feel lightheaded. As he does so, he moves my hair out of the way and grabs my phone. I hold my breath as my tummy does a flip while he opens the camera app.

Show me, he says over and over.

I put it into selfie mode by pressing a button, and we lock eyes through the glass. Doing photoshoots can get me a little horny at times. When I need to stimulate my libido, I schedule a photo shoot. It's possible that this trait makes me egocentric. Really, I have no idea. No big deal in my book.

It's the first time I've ever felt this way.

Ok, I say under my breath. To begin recording, I press the button.

He keeps his hand on the phone, but I raise it slightly so that only our mouths are visible. David shifts behind me, and then his lips are against my neck, shockingly tender against the relative roughness of his beard. In a panic, I reach out and clasp his wrist. Like in the first video, I am able to lead the way by guiding his hand to my chest and then leading his down my body slowly.

It's totally different how it was before.

My hand is soft, while David's is calloused. That, and he's a big fucking dude. My nerves are on edge as he hooks the edge of my bra and gently pulls it down, exposing my nipple for our mutual amusement.