He drags a chair forward. Sits. Legs spread. Eyes burning.
And he wasn’t lying about being hard.
“Now,” he says, voice nearly a growl. “Where were we?”
And how the hell is this one of the sexiest moments of my entire life?
We’re not even touching.
“I was…” Is that my voice? Breathless. Shaky. “Doing… this.”
I touch the vibrator to my center, over the fabric of my panties, and my hips tip forward without me meaning them to. The hum sends a slow ripple through me—deep, insistent—and I drag it upward, then back down again.
I feel him watching.
Not passively.
Intently.
My skin is burning up by now. My breasts feel heavy, sensitive. My thighs tremble. I roll my hips just a little, teasing myself, teasing him, and the knowledge that he’s seeing everything makes everything about this more intense.
Sharper.
God. We’ve been together for years. Built a life. Made children.
And somehow… we’ve never been this bold.
I circle myself slowly, intentionally, letting the pleasure build without rushing it. Letting him see how easily I unravel when he’s paying attention like this.
Beckett’s hand closes around himself, just below the piercing. I see it. The way his fingers tighten. A stroke of his thumb. The way he licks his lips like he’s starving.
“Stop,” he says suddenly.
I freeze, breath caught.
“Take off your panties, gorgeous. And try the purple one.”
I reach for it—the heavier toy, smooth and curved, with a soft ridge meant to press and thrum where I’m already aching. It looks…wicked. Like it could do some serious damage.
I peel my panties down my legs and kick them aside, heat rushing to my face as I realize how exposed I am. But Beckett’s gaze doesn’t waver. If anything, it darkens.
“Good,” he murmurs. “Now… just a little.”
I position it, the cool silicone making me gasp, and ease it in just the slightest bit.
“Stop,” he says, voice rough. “Pull it out again.”
I do. Slow. Controlled. Watching his jaw tighten. Watching his hand stroke himself in time with my movement.
“I want to watch you fuck yourself, babe,” he says quietly. “I want to see what you do when you forget everything else.”
My breath comes apart at that.
And I realize—I’m not embarrassed.
I’m free.
And God help me… I want him to keep watching.
