Her shirt bunched in my fists. The weight of her in my lap, rolling her hips, her breath hitching every time I touched her. That moment when she put my hand on her breast. God, I could still feel the heat of her through the fabric, her heartbeat under my palm.
I imagined lifting that shirt. Running my hands up her stomach. Claiming every part of her like I’ve wanted to for weeks.
My hips jerked forward, chasing the friction.
What if she’d stayed? What if she’d let me peel those jeans off and taste her? What if I’d pinned her down on the couch, tied her wrists above her head and kissed every doubt off her lips while she came undone beneath me?
I let the fantasy play out, imagining the special rope I’d wrap around her wrists. The knots I would use on her. The way she’d look, all flushed and breathless and trusting me completely.
I came with a choked groan, my release pulsing through me, vision whiting out for one long, empty second.
The water rinsed away the mess. But not the memory. Not the ache.
I stayed under the spray, jaw tight, knowing the real problem wasn’t physical.
It was knowing she’d run again, and that I’d let her. Fuck.
EMILY
Iwas edging myself to insanity. All these weeks with Cam were making me so hot I couldn’t think straight.
Seeking a distraction, I had set up my easel. Golden afternoon light streamed through the windows, illuminating a fresh canvas. A perfect setup. Instead, I had been staring at the same blank space for twenty minutes, my brush hovering uselessly in the air.
Because all I could think about was Cam. His touch. His kiss. His gaze burning into me when he pulled me close.
He’d been so damn respectful, though. Never letting his hands wander too far, never losing control. The moment I’d tense, he’d back right off. He was sticking to my terms to a tee.
Problem was, those terms were killing me. Burning me up from the inside out.
I dropped the brush into the jar of murky water, not even caring that it splashed a little. My heart was thumping too hard, my thoughts too tangled up in the fantasy of those hands on me, gripping my hips, sliding up my thighs. I couldn’t paint like this. I couldn’t do anything like this.
I needed to get it out of my system.
Wiping my hands on my old, paint-splattered cloth, I abandoned the sunroom and headed straight for my bedroom. My pulse was racing as I shut the door behind me, even though I knew I was alone. I yanked open the drawer of my nightstand, fumbling until my fingers closed around the smooth, silicone shape of my vibrator. My little purple escape. I kicked off my jeans and panties and climbed onto the bed, the cool sheets a shock against my heated skin.
I didn’t even bother with slow and teasing. Not today. I switched it on, the low buzz filling the quiet room, and pressed it right where I needed it most.
A sharp gasp slipped out as the vibrations hit, my eyes squeezing shut.
In my mind, it wasn’t the toy. It was Cam. Towering over me, his broad, muscular frame pinning me down. I could almost feel the weight of him, the scratch of his stubble against my neck as he growled my name.
“Emily,” he’d say, voice rough and hungry, while his hands roamed over every inch of me, not caring about the scars, not hesitating for a second.
I bit my lip, hips rocking against the relentless buzz, imagining his thick fingers slipping inside me, stretching me, prepping me for something bigger.
I pictured him shoving his jeans down just enough, his cock springing free, hard and ready. The thought of him pushing into me, filling me up, had me whimpering, my free hand clutching the sheets.
“Fuck, Cam,” I whispered to the empty room, my voice shaky as the fantasy took over. I could almost hear the slap of skin on skin, feel the way he’d thrust deep and hard, claiming every part of me until I couldn’t think straight.
The pressure built fast, a tight coil in my core ready to snap. I turned the vibrator up a notch, gasping as it pushed me closer to the edge.
In my head, Cam was grunting, his skin slick with sweat, his green eyes burning into mine as he fucked me senseless.
“Come for me, Em,” he’d rasp, and that was it. My body shattered, a cry ripping from my throat as the orgasm hit, waves of pleasure crashing through me. I rode it out, trembling, the vibrator still buzzing until I couldn’t take it anymore and switched it off.
I lay there, panting, staring at the ceiling. My body was sated, but my mind was still a mess.
Cam wasn’t here.
