“If I have to fucking beg, Butterfly, I will,” I step into the room but go no further than a few feet in, giving her plenty of space.
“Dean, I–”
“Don’t lie to me,” I spot the little silver toy in her hand. “Couldn’t get yourself there?”
Her throat works on a swallow, and she shakes her head, a blush creeping up her neck and onto her cheeks.
“Let me help,” I offer, a little desperately. Fuck, I can’t keep doing it, can’t keep skirting around it.
“You?” She squeaks.
“Let’s not pretend you don’t want me just as fucking much as I want you, Sloane.”
I’ve never been fucking harder, just imagining her here in this bed, those pretty legs spread as she worked herself.
“If you tell me to leave right now, I will,” I promise her.
She doesn’t.
I take another step closer, and her legs shift under the sheets, rubbing together. “Are you wet, Sloane?”
“Yes,” She breathes.
“Desperate?”
Her head nods.
I palm my cock above the flannel pants I’d changed into. Her eyes home in on the movement and her lashes flutter, lips parting on a breath.
“You see how fucking desperate I am too?” I’m only a few feet away at the foot of the bed.
“Yes,” She answers.
“That’s what you do,” I admit, “Every fucking day since you’ve been here. Since you started working for me, with your smart mouth and your ocean eyes.”
I press my knees to the mattress, hovering there as she watches me, her lids hooded, that blush so damn pretty on her cheeks.
“Did you think of me?” I ask, “When you played with that pretty pussy?”
“Yes, but it didn’t work.”
“No, it clearly didn’t,” Fisting the sheets, I start to tug them down, but she quickly snatches them, holding them up. I pause, waiting for her to give me the word.
There are a few heavy seconds, but then her fingers release, and she attempts to relax. “You tell me to stop, I stop.” I tell her again.
“Okay,” She whispers as I resume pulling the sheets down. First, her thighs are exposed, the hem of her nightshirt sitting high but low enough that it keeps her covered, then it’s her knees until I drag it all the way off the bed. I keep my moves slow, giving her a chance to tell me to stop at any time.
“Bring your knees up, pretty girl,” I command softly, “Then spread them.”
She sucks in a deep breath and does as I ask, sliding her feet over the sheets as she brings her legs up and then drops her knees apart.
“Fuck,” I groan, watching the shirt ride up and settle, leaving her naked and exposed. So, fucking pretty and wet. “Give me your toy.”
With a shaking hand, she passes it across to me, and I twist the end, setting it to the lowest setting.
“Do you understand how long I’ve wanted you, Sloane?” I ask her.
“No,” She gasps when the tip of the vibrator touches her ankle.
