“Go get it, baby,” I repeated gently. “And then lie back down.”
She disappeared from the screen for a moment, the soft rustle of drawers and the faint clink of something plastic against wood filtering through the speakers. When she came back, she held up a sleek, curved vibrator in soft lavender silicone.
Nothing flashy or too intimidating. Not for my girl.
It was exactly the kind of thing I could picture her researching meticulously, reading every review before purchasing because it promised “gentle, consistent pressure.”
Because research is sexy.
She sat back against the pillows, a bit more hesitantly than before. Her fingers twisted in the hem of my stolen T-shirt.
“I’ve never done this,” she admitted, voice small but steady.
“You trust me?”
“Yes,” she said, barely missing a beat.
“We’ll go slow.” I kept my tone low, soothing. “You tell me what feels good, and I’ll talk you through it. Okay?”
She nodded, biting her lip. “Okay.”
I reached down and tugged the waistband of my sweats lower, just enough to free myself. My cock was already hard, aching from the sound of her voice. I wrapped my hand around the base and gave a slow stroke, letting her see.
Bella’s eyes went wide. “You’re so pretty like that,” she breathed.
I let out a rough laugh. “Pretty?”
“Uh-huh,” she said, completely serious. “The way the vein on the side stands out. And the head gets darker when you’re turned on. I love it.”
Jesus.She’d cataloged every detail of my cock the same way she did everything else.
“Strip, baby,” I begged. “Let me see you.”
She set the phone to the side, no doubt leaning it against whatever library books were piled high on her nightstand. I squeezed my cock again, groaning when she peeled the T-shirt over her head, revealing her soft belly and heavy tits.
Her nipples were already tight and flushed pink. She squirmed when her thumbs brushed over them.
“Shorts too,” I murmured.
She hooked her fingers in the waistband and shimmied them down her thighs. No panties. Just smooth skin and the soft triangle of dark curls between her legs, already glistening.
“Fuck.” I barely recognized my own voice, thick with need. “You’re so beautiful.”
She picked her phone up again and lay back.
“How do you want me to—”
“Just show me what you like.”
She reached for the vibrator, then paused. “I usually . . . start with my fingers. Work my way up to the toy.”
“Then use your fingers.”
She settled back against the pillows, knees falling open in a way that made something primal and reverent twist in my chest. One hand slid down her stomach, over her mound, and two fingers parted her folds. A soft, breathy sound escaped her when she brushed her clit.
“Yeah, just like that.” Her eyes flicked back to the camera. “Tell me how it feels.”
“Warm,” she whispered. “Wet.Reallywet.” Her hips shifted as she chased her own touch. “I might’ve been thinking about you before you called.”
