Good thing Georgia isn’t home tonight...
I press the vibrator against the outside of my folds, teasing myself as the cold plastic warms against my skin. My breathing slows as I let the familiar sensations wash over me. I slide the toy inside, adjusting it until it hits just right, then let the suction attachment latch onto my clit. Low, steady vibrations hum against me, sending a ripple of anticipation through my body.
My fingers trail up to my breasts, finding my nipples and giving them a soft pinch. The storm outside continues its relentless assault on the tin roof, the rain and wind creating a constant backdrop to my thoughts. I wish I could drown it out with music, but with the power out, draining my phone battery isn’t an option.
I press the button to slow the vibrations, taking my time, savoring the build-up. It’s always better this way—the slow tease, the ache that heightens the eventual release, the buildup of the tension coiling deep within my womb. The suction pulses against my clit, sending heat radiating through my core as my legs stretch out further and I press the wand portion deeper inside of me as it hums contently.
A moan escapes from my lips, and I sigh.
This feels good…
Images of Wilder flash in my mind—how good he looked on our date, the way his hair curled at his collar, just enough to tempt me to run my fingers through it. His piercing green eyes, always knowing, always seeing straight through me. His voice, low and calm, but with a warmth I hadn’t heard in years.
Multiple things about him have changed in the past five years. He isn’t the same man that I remembered, he’s better, yet he stillfeels so achingly familiar.
I think about the hard line of his erection pressing against me as I’d moved on top of him, how natural it felt to be that close to him again. My fingers twist my nipples, sending another wave of pleasure through me as I press the speed button, intensifying the vibrations from the wand inside of me. My hips shift against the mattress, and I lift a leg, angling myself to push the toy deeper. Heat pools in my abdomen as my breaths come faster, more uneven.
That feels so good… Wilder.
I imagine his hands on me, the roughness of his palms grazing my skin, the weight of his body pressing me into the bed. Is he ready for this? Am I? My mind drifts to his daughter, Willow. I’d never want to take anything away from her, never want to complicate their bond. But is there room for me, too?
A gasp slips from my lips as I turn the speed up one more notch. My body trembles under the intensity as I reach behind my neck, wiping the thin layer of sweat that’s formed there from the stifling heat and my own arousal. My hands trail down to my nipples, pinching and twisting again and then, it hits me—that strange, gut-deep sensation of being watched.
Even with my eyes closed, the feeling is undeniable. My chest tightens as I pause my teasing, the vibrator still buzzing faintly against me. I sit up, slowly opening my eyes...and Wilder is standing in the doorway.
He’s frozen in place, the darkness from the kitchen framing his tall and broad silhouette. His hand is raised mid-air like he was about to knock but didn’t quite make it before he found me. His mouth is slightly open, his eyes wide as they take in the scene before him.
For a moment, neither of us moves. The air feels heavier than ever, but this time it has nothing to do with the storm and entirely with the soft buzzing that’s still coming from betweenmy legs.
I'm not sure what to do.
My vibrator is buzzing quietly inside of me while my legs are spread wide, giving him the perfect view to well… all of me.
My hand keeps moving on instinct, sliding the toy in and out of me, my eyes fixated on him. There’s no shame, no urge to stop. If anything, the opposite. Each motion feels too good, and suddenly, I want him to see just how good I feel. I want him to know he’s the reason for why I’m doing this right now.
His hand finally drops from where it had been suspended mid-air, and he takes a cautious step forward. I can see the hesitation in his posture, but his eyes remain glued to me—more specifically, to the space between my legs. I have no idea why he’s here or how he got into the house without me hearing, but the thought of him checking on me out of concern for my safety fills me with a warmth that intensifies the heat already pulsing through my body.
“I knocked,” he says, his voice low and gravelly as he inches closer. “I’m guessing you didn’t hear because of the storm. The alarm in the shed went off. A window got knocked out by the wind. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
His words barely register. He’s talking, sure, but his eyes haven’t left my body. And damn it, I don’t want them to.
I let my head drop back, closing my eyes for a moment as the sensations build. The steady hum of the toy, the heat pooling deep in my core, the way my skin feels too tight for my body—it’s all consuming. When I look up again, he’s right in front of me, standing at the edge of the bed, so close that I can feel his presence like a physical touch.
The air is thick and stifling, but my body craves him more than the relief of a breeze. I don’t want this vibrator. I want him. I want his hands, his mouth, his weight pressing into me. My lips part as I moan softly, teetering on the edge of release.
He sits on the bed beside me, so close his thigh brushes against mine. His gaze flickers up to meet mine for a brief second before dropping back down. “May I?” he asks, his hand outstretched.
I nod, breathless.
Gently, he takes the handle of the toy from me, his large hand wrapping around it as he moves into the space I’d left behind. I prop myself up on my elbows, my chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, watching him as he glides the vibrator in and out of me. His head dips low for only a moment before his tongue peeks out and licks a wet, flat line across my clit.
I shudder and let out a shameless moan as he continues to move the toy in and out while watching me. The sight of him—Wilder, so strong and composed, yet utterly focused on me—sends a fresh wave of heat throughout my body. Watching him watch me, his jaw tight, his breathing just as labored as mine, is all it takes. My release hits me hard, my body trembling as I cry out, my back arching off the bed.
“I was thinking of you,” I manage to pant, collapsing back against the sheets. My voice is barely audible over the storm outside, but I know he hears me.
When my eyes open again, his are darker, and his lips quirk into the faintest of smiles. “Show off for me, baby,” he whispers, his voice rough and full of want.
Before I can respond, he pulls the suction piece away from my clit, leaving the wand inside me as he leans down. His mouth replaces the toy on my swollen, way too sensitive bud, his tongue circling and flicking with a precision that leaves me gasping.
