Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 134961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 675(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 675(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
As far as he’s concerned, I belong to him and him alone.
Still, you can never be too careful, and I don’t know who might try and get into his phone and why, so I keep my face out of the shot
The video is all smooth skin and parted thighs, the slow, deliberate movement of my hand as I press my fingers inside.
I can’t watch it back - the thought is mortifying - and so once I feel I have enough to share with him and drive him truly crazy, I press send.
My pulse pounds as I watch the message deliver, nerves and anticipation twisting in my stomach, my breath catching in my throat as I wait.
Those three dots appear and I can’t help but smirk, satisfaction thrumming through me at the thought of him watching the video, jaw slack and chest heaving as he touches himself, too.
You’re so fucking perfect.
And then -
Show me more.
My heart races.
Still, I obey, pressing record again as I shift.
I angle the camera lower this time to allow him to see the way that my fingers tease against my slick, throbbing heat, the way my body is already falling apart at just the thought of him.
It feels incredible, and I don’t even process what I’m doing as I raise one of my legs to the counter. It spreads me out in full, providing the camera with a complete, full view of my wet slit; but more than that, it provides me with more pleasure as I work my fingers over myself.
A soft, breathy whimper slips past my lips, and though I bite it down so not to disturb my sleeping friends, I’m confident he’ll hear it on the video.
My movements are slow and deliberate as I drag my fingers up and down the full outline of my pussy, exaggeratedly circling my clit. I tease at the outside of my entrance for a moment before sliding my fingers in and out, in and out, my thumb swiping over my swollen clit and drawing small, tight circles over it as I close my eyes and picture him here.
I swear, it’s like I can see it in full, high definition. Frederic in the bathroom, taking me, owning me. Me down on my knees before him, his hands on the back of my head as he guides me to suck him and take his length right down my throat. Him fucking me from behind, his bright blue eyes meeting mine in the mirror as he pounds into me, the sound of his skin slapping against the flesh of my ass filling the space around us.
I make a point of showcasing my glistening fingers to evidence my arousal since I know he’ll be watching, and I can feel my thighs beginning to tremble, my abdomen clenching tightly as heat thrums through my body.
And then, I send it.
It takes him less than a second to respond.
Fucking hell, Poppy.
My cheeks burn, my skin flushed and hot, my body thrumming as my phone vibrates again -
This time, it’s a video.
My breath hitches, but I don’t even hesitate to press play. I keep my hand between my legs as I watch it, my fingers pressed high and deep, my thumb still nudging my clit.
And - fuck.
The video is low-lit, the angle slightly tilted as the camera captures every inch of his golden skin, his broad chest, the way his muscles flex as he grips the thick, hard length of himself in his fist.
Just as I imagined it, his pace is slow as he pumps his hand over his cock. His breathing is ragged, and my stomach tightens at the way his hand moves, the way his thumb swipes at the bead of pre-cum oozing from the tip of him, the way his body reacts to me.
To this. To us.
My thighs clench together, a soft, needy whimper escaping me as I watch the way his hand strokes himself, the way his abs tense with every movement.
And then, he groans.
"Fuck, Poppy.”
The moment his voice slips through the speakers of my phone - deep, rough and completely wrecked - I shatter.
A sharp, choked whimper escapes me as my body clenches around my own fingers, pleasure slamming through me in a wave so intense I have to bite down on my lip to stop myself from crying out.
He sounds desperate. Like he’s barely hanging on.
Like he’s completely undone by this, by me.
And that is what ruins me.
I barely register the way my hand still moves as the aftershocks roll through me. I can’t even consider the way my body trembles, too sensitive, too hot, too much.
All I know is him.
His voice. His body.
His breathless, desperate groans as his fist works over his cock, slick and slow and so fucking perfect that it makes my stomach clench all over again.
Another video comes through, and I press it open immediately, not even bothering to hesitate.