Page 108 of Obedience

‘My hotel is miles away, and I couldn’t very well watch you while the canapés were being passed around and I chatted about biobanking, could I?’

Dylan blew out a long breath at the sight of Greta. Her hair was loosely tied up, her blue blouse fastened with a bow at the neck. A single earphone pushed in one ear, the other hanging from the wire around her neck. Dylan smiled to herself at Greta’s refusal to use wireless AirPods, having watched them through the round glass of the washing machine door once too often.

‘I miss you so much,’ Dylan whispered, her breathing already shallow.

‘Fucking hell, Dylan.’ Greta sighed, eyes locked on the suggestive movement of Dylan’s shoulder. As Dylan pushed her fingers in long, wet strokes over herself, she knew Greta was watching the snug fit of her T-shirt over the taut curve of her bicep; her biceps being a particular favourite of Greta’s. ‘Are you wet?’ Greta whispered.

Dylan angled the phone, allowing Greta to see the ease with which her hand slid and hear the slick sound of her fingers effortlessly gliding over her.

‘I’m soaked,’ Dylan breathed. ‘I’ve been thinking about your mouth.’

‘Prop your phone up. Let me see all of you.’ Dylan grabbed a pillow and fiddled with the angle of the phone until Greta had the perfect view. ‘My God, Dylan, you look…’ Greta huffed out a sigh. ‘Tell me what you’ve been thinking about.’

With her head tilted to the side, eyes fixed on the screen, Dylan exhaled loudly through her nose. Two fingers moving in wet circles around the soft pink skin of her clit. Greta let out a low groan, shifting her weight heavily onto one leg.

‘Does the door lock?’ Dylan asked quietly.

‘It’s locked. It’s a cleaner's cupboard, it’s—'

‘Are you wearing a skirt?’ Dylan interrupted, her tone impatient as the mere question caused the heat under her fingers to burn.

‘Yes,’ Greta sighed. ‘Yes, I’m—’

‘Pull it up.’

‘Dyl, I— ’

‘Pull your fucking skirt up, Greta. Fuck, I’m already so close, G. Please… Pull it up and show me. I need to see you.’ Greta angled the phone down. Even fully clothed, the sight of her elicited a frustrated whimper from Dylan’s throat. ‘God, I miss you,’ Dylan sighed as Greta pulled the sides of her skirt over the curves of her hips with one hand.

‘I miss you too,’ Greta replied, her breath hitched and tight before she’d even touched herself.

‘Put your phone down somewhere. Let me see you.’ Dylan ordered breathlessly.

Greta propped her phone on a shelf next to huge bottles of American cleaning products, giving Dylan her full profile. Pressing her back against the wall, Dylan watched carefully as Greta widened her stance and slowly slid her hand into her knickers. The sight of her fingers pushing against the inside of the fabric deepened Dylan’s moans as she moved over herself.

‘Tell me what you’ve been thinking about,’ Greta whispered.

Dylan’s hips continued to undulate against her own hand. ‘Your mouth,’ she managed quietly.

Greta’s hand slowly began to move. ‘Keep talking.’

‘Fuck, my clit is so swollen.’ Dylan’s words were becoming harder to form, the last syllables fracturing. ‘Your mouth. I can feel it on me, sucking my—’

‘Oh my fucking God… You’re making me so wet.’

‘Can you feel me in your mouth?’

‘I can. I can taste you… Jesus, Dyl, I’m so fucking turned on.’

Head turned to the side, Dylan watched, as Greta thrust her pelvis into her own hand in slow, rhythmic circles, her shoulder blades and head pressed hard into the wall.

‘You look so good,’ Dylan sighed, the intensity of her own touch making her arch off the bed. She pushed her head back into the pillow with a deep groan. ‘Can you come like that?’

‘I think so, I don’t—’

‘You can come against a wall when I fuck you—’

‘Fuck, Dylan.’