Now that I’m down to boxer briefs, Erica’s eyes go wide for a fraction of a second as her eyes drop down to my bulge before she snaps them away, like she burned herself.
As if she hasn’t already seen my cock.
As if she hasn’t already had it inside her.
As if she hasn’t already begged for it.
She grips her phone tighter against her chest, knuckles paling.
Won’t be long until you do again, I promise silently.
I keep my face neutral and my voice even.
“I need to be closer to the door,” I murmur, nodding toward the side I’m standing on.
Either she knows why, or she doesn’t care. But she says, “Yeah. Yeah—of course.”
She scoots over quickly, duvet shifting with her.
And for a second—just a second—I catch a glimpse of her under it.
A very thin, very small tank top. Very small shorts.
The kinds that do nothing to hide that body from me.
My jaw tightens before I can stop it.
Erica drags the blanket higher like she realizes what she showed me and wants to take it back.
I pretend I didn’t notice.
She pretends she didn’t.
It’s the only way this works tonight.
I sit down carefully on the edge of the mattress, closest to the door, keeping space between us even though the bed is big enough for that not to be an issue.
But it feels like an issue.
The air is thick with unspoken things, with the memory of her hands on me, of the taste of her mouth, the way she sounded when she came—muffled, desperate, right next to my ear. The space between us is so heavy it feels alive. And I know she feels it too, because she’s holding herself so still.
But I told myself I wouldn't push her.
After her breakdown today, she has a few things to work out, especially when it comes to her submission and her acceptance of it. Pushing her now would be a mistake.
One I’m not willing to make.
I lie back slowly, deliberately, until my head hits the pillow.
The sheets are cool on my back.
From here, I can see the line of her shoulder in the dim light. The way she’s twisted away from me, curled into herself. Like she’s trying to make herself as small as possible.
I can still taste her.
My cock stirs, a slow, heavy throb against the fabric of my briefs.
I need to get that under control.
