My breath catches, but my legs are already moving. Dusty trots after me along the hall, before I nudge him back out and shut the door. The phone trembles in my hand as I settle on the edge of Logan’s bed, sheets crisp and smelling faintly like him.
“Good girl.” The words rasp through the speaker. “Now lie back.”
I ease back against his pillows, phone propped on the nightstand. My heart is in my throat, my thighs already pressing together.
“Better,” Logan says, his voice a low scrape through the speaker. He shifts against his headboard, the camera catching the broad spread of his shoulders. His eyes lock on me, dark and unblinking. “Now spread out. Let me see you.”
Heat flares in my chest, but I obey, dragging my knees up and parting them, leggings tight. His breath hitches almost imperceptibly.
“Fuck, Lulu.” His tone goes ragged. “Onmybed, looking like that. You know how many times I’ve pictured this?”
“Tell me,” I whisper.
He smirks, slow and devastating. “Nah. Tonight, I tell you what to do, and you show me how bad you want it.”
My whole body thrums.
“Take your leggings off,” he orders, gravel rough.
I hook my thumbs under the waistband and push them down, leaving just a damp scrap of cotton between me and the air. Logan groans low.
“Mmm, wet already? Put your hand over them, baby.”
I do, palm pressing over the damp heat of my pussy, and my hips jerk instinctively.
“Fuck, yes,” he growls. “Now rub. Slow. Let me see how wet you are for me.”
I bite down on my lip as my fingers move, circling the wetness seeping through the fabric. A whimper escapes me, and his breath sharpens.
“Look at you,” he mutters. “Already trembling. Take them off.”
My hands fumble, stripping away the last barrier. I’m bare on his sheets now, legs wide. The way his gaze drags over me, even through a screen, is reverent.
“Touch yourself, baby,” he orders softly. “Right there. Circle your clit. I wanna see what gets you off when it’s not my hands.”
My fingers obey, a soft sound breaking from my lips as my hips lift off the mattress, my eyes fluttering closed.
“Eyes on me, Lu,” he snaps. “Don’t look away, okay?”
I force them open, and his gaze burns through me. He’s palming himself through his sweats now, the outline of his cock straining.
“Add a finger,” he rasps. “Slow. Wanna see you stretch for me.”
I groan and do it, pressing one finger inside, curling as his voice drops, filthier by the second.
“Atta girl,” he moans. “Imagine it’s me. Thick cock filling you, holding you open, making you take it.”
My breath shudders, body rocking. My free hand clutches against the sheets, but his voice cuts sharp.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he murmurs. “All spread out in my bed, playing with yourself just like I told you.”
The words crash over me, making me ache. I whimper, and without thinking, my other hand slides lower, pressing a finger against the tight pucker of my ass. The sensation of it makes me moan loudly.
His eyes flare, hungry and brutal. “Fuck. You like that? My filthy girl. One finger on your clit, one in your pussy, one teasing your ass—you’re gonna kill me.”
A broken moan spills from me, thighs clenching, rhythm speeding up.
“Faster,” he urges. “Press harder. You’re close, aren’t you?”
