“Derek...” I breathed and his eyes darkened at the sound.
“That one. That’s my favourite.”
“You’re such a sap.”
“And you’re so fucking beautiful.” He tugged his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. “Lying there in my clothes. Inmy bed. Looking at me like that. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
I swallowed. The sincerity in his voice made it hard to deflect. “Tell me.”
“You make me crazy.” His voice dropped lower. “I’ve been half-hard all night thinking about getting back to my room so I could see you. Morrison was talking about defensive strategy and all I could think about was the way you look when you’re underneath me.”
“That’s very unprofessional, Sullivan.”
“I know.” He didn’t look sorry. “I keep thinking about your mouth. Your hands. The way your back arches when you’re close.” His gaze swept over what he could see of me through the screen. “The way your skin flushes all the way down your chest.”
My breath caught. “Derek—”
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He said it simply, like a fact. “And I’m stuck in this shitty hotel in Colorado instead of touching you.”
I slid my hand beneath the hoodie, trailing my fingers over my stomach. His eyes tracked the movement through the fabric.
“What are you doing?” His voice was strained.
“Getting comfortable.” I let my hand drift lower, brushing against the waistband of my briefs. “Do you want to see?”
“Fuck.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “These walls are paper thin.”
“Then you’ll have to be quiet, won’t you?” I tilted the phone, giving him a better angle as I palmed myself through the fabric. “Unless you don’t want to watch.”
“You know I want to watch.” He was definitely touching himself now, his arm moving in a rhythm he wasn’t bothering to hide. “Show me, snowdrop.”
The nickname sent a shiver through me. I pushed my briefs down, freeing my cock, already hard and leaking.
“Like this, daddy?”
He made a choked sound. “Just like that. God, look at you.”
“Your turn.” I wrapped my hand around myself, stroking slowly. “I want to see you too.”
He hesitated for only a second before shifting the phone, angling it so I could see him pull himself free from his dress pants. He was thick and flushed, already wet at the tip.
“Fuck, I miss you,” he breathed, stroking himself. “Miss the way you taste. Miss the little sounds you make when I’m inside you. Miss the way you clench around me when you’re close.”
“Tell me more.” I matched his rhythm, my breath coming faster. “Tell me what you’re going to do to me when you get back.”
“I’m going to take my time with you.” His voice was wrecked, barely above a whisper. “Going to open you up so slowly you’ll be shaking before I even get inside you. Two fingers. Then three. Until you’re so desperate you’re fucking yourself back on my hand.”
“Derek—” I was leaking now, slicking my grip.
“And then when you can’t take it anymore, when you’re begging me—because you will, snowdrop, you’ll beg so beautifully—I’ll finally give you what you need.”
“Fuck, please—”
“That’s it.” His rhythm sped up. “That’s what I want to hear. You sound so pretty when you say please.”
“Please, daddy.” I was past caring how desperate I sounded. “I need—I want—”
“I know what you need.” His eyes were locked on me through the screen. “I’m going to fuck you so deep you’ll feel me for days. Going to make you come so hard you forget your own name. And then I’m going to hold you all night and wake up with you in my arms.”
