“I think we can even the score,” He suggests, “Want to play?”
“What’s the game?”
“Slide your hand into your panties,” His voice is all gravel, “Make yourself come.”
I feel my eyes bug out of my head, “What?”
He shrugs nonchalantly, “It’s only fair. You made me come, now it’s your turn for an orgasm but this one is mine.”
My pussy clenches with the idea, my stomach knotting with both excitement and nerves. “Here?”
“Right fucking here,” His dark eyes devour me, but he doesn’t move, he keeps himself rooted to his side of the couch. There’s a tremor in my muscles as I shift on the couch and unfold my legs, placing both feet on the cushion next to me. My nipples press onto the soft fabric of his tee, and I let my thighs fall apart a little to give me better access.
His jaw clamps tight as he watches my hand descend, fingers tugging the hem up enough I can slide my hand down the front of my panties.
I’m already wet and at the first touch of my fingers to my clit, my pussy clenches, a rush of pleasure shooting down my spine. I’m barely able to stifle the moan that wants to escape my throat.
Slipping my finger lower, I gently tease it into myself, my muscles already beginning to tighten. It’s the way he’s looking at me, the hunger on his face as the air turns electric between us. His fingers have curled into his palms and his own muscles have grown taut, as if he is barely holding onto his restraint.
I shouldn’t do this.
We shouldn’t do this.
I’m not even sure how we got here. Thirty minutes ago, I was fleeing after he insulted me, now my legs are spread while I pleasure myself on his couch in front of him.
“Keep going,” He whispers, entirely focused on where my hand moves against my pussy, two fingers rolling tight circles over my clit. It’s a slow build, a gentle climb that moves me higher and higher toward the peak. “How does it feel?” He asks.
“Good,” I whimper, head rolling back as the pleasure courses through me.
“Look at me, Savannah.”
I snap my head back up at the command in his tone.
“I want to watch you when you come,” He demands, “You’re close, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I breathe shakily.
“Good.”
“I want to–”
“No,” He cuts me off before I can finish the sentence, already knowing what I was going to say.
Touch you.
“Slide your fingers into your cunt,” He orders, “Fuck yourself, Savannah, I want to see you soaking thosepanties.”
“Killian,” His name is a moan and a plea.
His chest moves rapidly with his breaths, and I can see the clear outline of his cock beneath his sweats, hard and tenting the front of his pants. I could help him, but I do as I am told instead, sliding my fingers back down until I can slip them inside. I am drenched, my arousal soaks my hand and the material of my underwear. I’m so fucking wet I’m a little worried I’ll leave a wet spot on the couch beneath me. But I can’t stop, not when it’s right there.
“Spread your legs wider,” He commands, “Show me.”
My thighs widen which allows me easier access and I press the heel of my palm to my clit, adding some friction as I continue to pump my fingers in and out of myself.
“Fuck,” I cry out, “Yes.”
“That’s it,” He urges, “Come all over your fucking hand.”
