“Hot. It makes me feel hot,” I say louder. I stick out my chest, chasing his fingers as they move over my skin.
“What else?”
I confess, “Needy. She makes me feel needy.”
He groans in my ear as he once again pushes his fingers deep between my thighs. “You’re so fucking turned on. I think she makes you wet. Doesn’t she?”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I wait for his firm fingers to retreat, so they’ll give me that delicious high when they slide back into my demanding body.
His hand stills as he asks quietly, “What happened yesterday?”
Stiffening in his arms, I feel my thighs tighten. I try to get a grip to pull myself away, but there’s nothing I can do. His fingers are sliding between my swollen lips while his other hand is pulling and twisting my nipple.
“Stop,” I say, panting.
“No.”
God help me, my slick cunt clenches in response to his refusal.
“Tell me,” he demands.
Between gritted teeth, I answer, “No.”
His long fingers brush my clit gently. “Are you ashamed?”
Shaking my head, I arch my hips, my entire body begging for release.
“Did it have something to do with her?” he asks. I cry out when he pinches my nipple. “Did it?”
I don’t answer. I can’t. Instead, I bring a hand up to my neglected breast and start to pull and twist the straining peak.
“Yes, Gemma,” he urges with a deep groan. “Touch yourself. Feel me touch you, and look at us while your body sings. And itissinging. It’s weeping and crying all over my fingers.”
I finally feel his long fingers push deep into my tight core, and I cry out, pinching my nipple hard.
“Oh yes, Gemma, fuck my fingers. God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he whispers.
This time, he seems far away. As I turn my head against his shoulder, I see his eyes on the painting in front of us. I know I should be upset that he is looking at her while thrusting his fingers inside me, but it turns me on even more. Knowing that he is touching me while fantasizing about her makes me quiver and clench uncontrollably.
I finally give him what he wants. “Her,” I confess.
I feel his hand flex between my thighs while he slides his fingers out, only to push back in hard. “What about her?” he asks.
I can feel his cock pushing insistently against my ass, and I grind against it as I move my hips to meet each thrust of his fingers. Almost cruelly, he pinches my nipple, and I still my hips, biting my bottom lip to control the scream I feel building.
“What about her, Gemma?” he demands.
I decide now is as good a time as any to confess my sins and have them washed away. “I had a fantasy.”
He slowly pulls his long fingers from me. Forcefully, he pushes them back inside, making me groan, but I stay focused on him.
“What kind of fantasy?” he asks, his voice gruff.
I close my eyes, remembering the thought of her while I tweak my nipple. “She was touching me.”
Before anything else can leave my mouth, he removes his hands, gently pushing me away, and I stumble to move. I’m terrified I’ve gone too far, but before I know it, he’s pulling me down to the rug on the floor. I feel the plush material against my back as he throws the towel, which has been our only impediment, behind us.
I cautiously study him while he sits back on his knees. As he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, he looks above me to the paintings hanging all around us on the wall. I raise my legs and slowly spread them in invitation. When his eyes finally come back to me, he can see everything that I’m offering. Pushing down the denim, I notice he’s naked beneath, and I feel my pussy clench at the sight of his thick, veiny cock when it’s finally freed.
