“Ryan.” She moaned, the tortuous flares of pleasure not enough to propel her into orgasm. More.
More!
She twisted her body, giving an abrupt jerk. Her breath whooshed out. Her eyes flew open. Confusion gripped her, her clit giving a quick twang before she groaned in frustration.
“Oh hell.” She lifted her sweaty face from her page of bullet points, scrubbed her hand over her cheek and a smear of ink came away on her fingertips.
Every muscle in her body ached from falling asleep in the awkward position.
“Hell.” The muttered curse squeezed past her lips, and she stumbled into her kitchenette to grab a glass of water, her body still protesting being ripped so violently from the midst of an erotic dream.
She pulled a glass from a cupboard and took the opportunity to splash her face with cool water. Her nipples, swollen and needy, rubbed against her lacy bra while moistness coated the crotch of her panties. She sipped the water, trying to ignore the insistent twinge of arousal.
Muttering another curse, she set the glass on the counter and stomped to her bedroom. She stripped off her clothes, leaving them where they fell. The cool air kissed her skin, made her nipples prickle. Her stomach twisted, arousal a sharp knife cutting at her flesh. With a low groan she sank onto the bed, ripped open the bedside drawer and grabbed her favorite vibe. She shoved it roughly into her pussy, guided the tickler to her clit and turned it on. The low hum pushed up the tension inside her, twisted her gut. Tears welled, dripped down her cheeks even as she exploded into an orgasm that shot white light across the inside of her closed eyes.
Ryan was back. He said he wanted her, and she, weak-willed woman that she was had agreed to let him see her, to help at the club. This was bad. Terrible, and it couldn’t end well.
