"You heard me. Take them off. I want to know you're as affected by this as I am."
My hand trembles as I set the phone down, put the earbud in, then pull off my tank top and shimmy out of my shorts.
"Done," I whisper.
"Good girl. Now touch yourself."
"Emmett ..." But even as I say his name, my hand is sliding down my stomach.
"Are you wet for me?"
"Yes."
"Show me how much."
My fingers slip between my legs. I'm soaked. "I'm so wet," I breathe.
He groans. "Fuck. I can hear it. I wish I was there. I'd taste every inch of you."
"Tell me what you'd do."
"I'd start with your mouth. Kiss you until you can't breathe. Then I'd work my way down. Your neck. Your breasts. Take my time with each one."
My fingers circle my clit. "Keep going."
"Then lower. Kissing down your stomach. Your hips. Your thighs. Making you beg for it."
"I'm begging now." I moan.
"Faster."
I obey. My breath catches.
"That's it," he murmurs. "I can hear how close you are."
"I need ..."
"I know what you need. I'd put my mouth on you. Taste you. Make you come on my tongue before I even think about fucking you."
I moan. Can't help it.
"You like that? The thought of my mouth on you?"
"Yes."
"What else do you want?"
"You. Inside me. Hard."
He makes this strangled sound. "Fuck. I'm so hard right now it hurts."
"Touch yourself."
"Already am. Been touching myself since you answered the phone."
The thought of him stroking himself while talking to me pushes me closer to the edge.
"Faster," I gasp.
