“What do you want, baby? What does my Willa need?”
“I want to fucking come,” I groan, my hips shifting with a mind of their own, trying to get something that isn’t even there. A deep chuckle fills the room.
“Okay, honey. Slide it back inside, then,” he acquiesces, and I nearly drop the toy in my effort to do as he asks. I moan loudly as it slides inside, filling me deep and stretching me. “Fuck, you taking that is almost as pretty as watching you take me.” I move the toy in and out, but it doesn’t touch the need in my belly.
“I want to rub my clit,” I whine, desperation in the words.
“Do what you want, baby. Make yourself come for me.” Relief glides through me as I move, one hand fucking myself hard and fast as the other rubs my clit. A deep, guttural moan leaves Leo’s lips, and even though I want to close my eyes and give in to the pleasure swirling around me, I watch in utter fascination as he strokes himself hard and fast, tugging with much firmer strokes that I would use if I were there, low grunts leaving his lips with each movement.
I decide I’m going to hold out, then. I want the pleasure to wash over me as I watch him spill onto his belly.
“I want you to come, saying my name,” I whimper, hands moving feverishly as I watch, enraptured by the show he’s putting on for me.
“Fuck,” he groans, hips bucking into his hand, and I moan again. “You look so pretty fucking yourself. You want to watch me come, don’t you?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” I breathe, my eyes locked to the screen.
“Fuck, Willa,” he says, and then it happens, cum spilling from the tip of his cock, hitting his stomach, dripping over hishand as he moans loudly, continuing to stroke himself through his release.
With the visual, I follow, screaming his name, my body quaking as I fall back onto the bed, my hands still moving between my legs, but unable to hold myself up anymore as wave after wave of need and satisfaction roll through me. When I return to reality, my hands move slower, and I catch Leo speaking.
Gorgeous. So fucking pretty. Perfect. Love you.
Eventually, I sit up, sliding the dildo out with a hiss, and Leo has some tissues, cleaning himself up. He smiles at me, almost sheepish, before tipping his head to the side. “Go clean up, honey, do what you gotta do to get to bed, but don’t get dressed. Then go back into your suitcase and beneath your clothes, there’s a pink bag. Grab it, but don’t open it up. Bring it here.” I smile, eager for another prize, and follow his instructions without another word. In record time, I clean myself up, wash my face, and brush my teeth before grabbing the pink bag that was also in my suitcase and bringing it back to the bed, sitting cross-legged, naked before the camera. He’s settled himself into the bed, the screen in his lap, I think, the lights off now, only the glow of the screen lighting him up. It makes my chest ache, knowing I’m not there to cuddle into his side.
“Open it,” he murmurs, and I do, and then my eyes water when I see what’s inside.
Shirts.
At least three of them. Leos’ oversized shirts, the ones I like to sleep in. I had stolen one, plus the other one I’d claimed as mine after my first night at the Mill, but I was already trying to figure out how to rotate them to sleep in them every night.
But it seems, as always, Leo thought ahead, giving me exactly what I need and want.
“Put it on, honey,” he murmurs, and I try not to cry, suddenly missing him so deeply, I don’t know how the hell I’m going to make it a full four weeks before I get to be with him for real again.
“I can’t believe you did this,” I murmur.
“We’ve got four weeks until you’re back here, and I’m going to make them as easy as we can. You can’t sleep here with me, but I want to be there with you, however I can.”
“And the dildo?” I ask with a laugh, sliding the shirt over my head and then shifting to grab my phone. When I see him again, a wide white grin is spread across his face.
“That was for me. I can’t last four weeks without hearing you mention my name.” I shake my head, then quickly transfer the call back to my cell before moving through the house to close things up for the night. Finally, I snuggle into bed, the lights off, and set the phone on the pillow beside me. If I try hard enough, I can almost pretend he’s here with me.
Almost.
“All right, baby, tell me about your day,” he says, and I do, telling him about heading home after the meeting, Jackie coming over to catch me up on my schedule for the next week or so, and the argument we had about the wig. Idon’ttell him about the strange conversation in the car. Leo already isn’t Jackie’s biggest fan, and I don’t want him to have any other reason to butt heads with her once we’re out in the open. I need them both to be on the same page, since I don’t see either of them going anywhere for a long time.
“How was the date?” he asks, and I fight to keep my face neutral, since he can always read me so easily.
“Fine.”
He lifts an eyebrow.
“Fine?” I can hear him becoming more alert, and I force myself to take in a deep breath, to settle that uneasy feeling inmy chest. It’s just that I have someone now, and because of it, it now feels icky. I’ve always dated assholes and idiots, though I do think this one takes the cake. At the very least, they usually have some kind of shame or appreciation for my help, knowing that, without me, their career is ruined.
Instead, Chris seems almost like he knows his reputation fix is already a done deal, and that we’re inexplicably linked together.
But if I tell Leo that, he’s going to lose it. He’s always been protective of his clients, and I don’t think with our relationship changing, that’s going to lessen. If I tell him what a miserable time I had and how he pushed boundaries, he’s going to rush over here, figure out a way to get me out of this thing, even if it means getting fired and ruining his entire career.
