I lay my jacket on top of the dresser and repeat, “Pick one.”
“We’re not…” She glances up at me questioningly, letting her voice trail off.
I slowly shake my head. “You and I are not fucking, mama.”
“Oh.” She dips her hand into the dresser and pulls out a blue vibrator. She swallows thickly. “I’m doing this myself?”
“Yes,” I answer quietly, waiting anxiously to see if she backs out now. This would be the moment to say no, to run from this room, but instead, she turns on the vibrator, and the buzzing sound goes straight to my cock. “Still want to be here?”
Entranced by the sex toy, she nods, and without having to be told, she heads toward the bed and climbs on top. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admits as she settles in a cross-legged sitting position on the bed. The angle exposes her pussy, and I can’t help but peek. Pretty. Pink. Petite. And damn it, it glistens.
Is there lust in my eyes as I look back at her? Probably. But instead of acting on that lust, I do my fucking job and step up to the camera, rumbling deeply, “I’ll walk you through it.”
Chapter Eight
Feenix Blaylock
For a split second, we lock eyes. I see all the innocence in hers. It swims in the depths as she makes one… last… choice. I practically dare her with my stare, and like the good girl she is, she inclines her head as she makes a decision. With a glance at the camera, she breathes through her mouth on such a slow exhale that I’m positive her pure soul went with it.
“Ready?” I murmur, my gaze raking over her body. Is that a slight tremor I’m detecting? Adrenaline or fear? Both? The idea of both makes goosebumps rise over my skin because, not only will the camera love it, but it turns me the fuck on.
She hums her answer, and it goes straight to my balls.
I’m going to take absolute pleasure in this, and in anticipation, my lips slightly part. This –her,this woman – is going to be the death of my peace of mind, I already know it.
“Run your hand over your body.”
With trembling fingers, she raises her free hand and skims her collarbone. The flesh on her breasts pebbles at the featherlight touch, and they move as her breaths become slightly heavier because of what she’s about to do.
I watch, bewitched, as those fingers move down and dip between the valley of her tits. Together, she and I watch as she makes a trail down her stomach and then back up again. Everywhere she touches leaves a trail of small bumps. Fuck, I think some part of her is getting turned on by this, and that does nothing to help me stay rooted to my spot.
Her hand moves back up and circles the mound of her left breast. With a quick look at me, she drops the vibrator and places that hand on her other breast. She swirls around her tits, creating little indents from the light pressure in their wake that quickly fill with the plump flesh of her cleavage.
“Squeeze,” I order huskily.
She lifts her gaze to mine, and fuck… there’s so much heat in them. Without further comment, she palms her tits, or what little she can fit into her small hands, and squeezes them.
Ever so slightly, her head tips back, and a tiny whimper escapes her. The sound goes straight to the damn thing between my legs. It strains against my zipper at this point, the only reminder that I can only watch and not touch.
Without being told, perhaps lost in the moment and the amping pleasure, she squeezes one more time before moving to her nipples. She lifts her head to watch this time, her jaw relaxed and her eyes glistening with her arousal.
I’m in an absolute trance as she circles the tight buds with two fingers each in slow, agonizing motions, round and round, and I can tell that just the simple touch isturning her on with anticipation of what she’s about to do to herself. I flex my jaw when she decides to flick them because the moan that follows makes my blood heat and a sweat gather along the back of my neck. That goddamn sound . . . It’s husky and raw and one-hundred-percent not faked.
I like to watch; I’ve been a watcher for years, but never once have I wanted to cross the room and see what sounds I could pull out of them myself.
“Mama,” I murmur to her, and she slowly raises that lust-glazed gaze to mine. “Lower.”
Obeying me, her hands move lower and lower, past the thick valley of her stomach, and when they reach the mound of her pussy, God help me, she touches herself. She sucks in a sharp breath at the first contact because, even from here, I can see how swollen her clit is, how much it begs for attention, and how sensitive it has to be because of it.
I almost tell her what to do next, but she comes up with it on her own. I swallow thickly as she dips two fingers inside, brings them out soaked, and starts to slowly circle her clit. “Oh my god,” she breathes.
Either she doesn’t pleasure herself often by how responsive she is to herself, or she’s thoroughly enjoying that she has an audience. Either way, I work like hell not to grab my cock. Instead, I clench my fingers into fists and let the nails bite into my palms. The pain is a stern reminder that I have a job to do, so I rotate to the camera and take it off the pod. I take absolute delight that I get to get closer to her, but as soon as I make it to the end of the bed and angle the camera so it takes in what she’s doing to herself and the attention she’s giving to her clit, I immediately regret it. I cansmellher arousal. It’s fucking sweet as hell.
I gather myself to my knees and wet my bottom lip asshe circles and circles. The breathy whimpers are a chorus to my ears, and I cannot take my eyes off of those damn glistening folds. I want to lick. I want to taste. I want to do all the things I shouldn’t.
Her thighs begin to quiver, and fuck, she’s sexy as hell right now.
I move the camera up her body and to her face to find it tense with an oncoming release. The only thing not tense is her parted lips. Even her breathing is tense.
