“Are you fucking kidding me?” Mitchell growled.
Too late to turn back now.
“Winona, I have to touch my?—”
“No.”
A snarl. “Then show me more.”
“That’s just going to make it worse for you.”
“Fucking do it, Winona, before I get in my car and drive over there.”
“Would you do that?”
“If you say the word, I’ll be there in thirty seconds. I’ll run every red light.”
“Sounds dangerous. But you’re not allowed to move.”
“Then show me more. I want a picture of your tits. Of your face. Of your ass. Of your beautiful pink pussy.”
I nearly dropped the phone. “So bossy.” Still, I got on my knees, taking a photo of my ass emerging from the suds.
“Fucking beautiful.”
“I want you, Mitchell.” I slid my hand between my legs. I took a photo of that too, though from above. Only the tops of my breasts and hand at the water’s surface were visible.
“Put your fingers inside yourself, Winona. Pretend they’re mine.”
I inserted a finger inside of me, then another, squeezing against the poor imitation of what I really wanted. “Fingers aren’t enough,” I breathed. “I want your cock. And I want to suck it first.”
Air sliced through the phone. I was torturing him, and I loved it.
“Send me another picture, Winona.” His voice was choked.
I considered saying no. But I wanted him to see. Was I brave enough to show him the most intimate one? God, what this man did to me. I'd never been so bold in my entire life.
But there was no use being shy with him. Not when I was pretty sure I knew what this would do to him.
With a splash of water, I sat up on the edge of the tub and spread my legs. I touched my clit, sucking in a breath. Then I snapped the photo, hitting send before I could change my mind.
Okay, that was possibly the stupidest thing I’d ever done.
But the string of curses that came out of his mouth when it arrived—it was worth it. “Fucking beautiful, Winona. The most beautiful pussy in the world.”
I touched it, pretending it was him.
“I need to taste you,” he breathed. “You have no fucking idea how badly. Did you know I dream of getting my face between your legs? I go to sleep and wake up fantasizing about the taste of you on my tongue.”
Oh God. “I wonder if you think about that as much as I dream of sucking your cock.”
“Winona…” Another warning. This one strangled.
“I’m not just saying that,” I said. “Thinking about it turns me on so much.” I meant it. I’d never liked it much before. But clearly, I’d never desired a man the way I did Mitchell. Because when I thought of how his face would look from up high as I took him in my mouth—when I thought of his hands threading through my hair, pulling me greedily onto him—it drove me wild.
“It makes me feel so dirty in the best way," I said. "I..." I swallowed. "I want to be on my knees for you, Mitchell.”
“Fuck, Winona, I can’t?—”
