Page 68 of Freefall

This isn’t about you, I remind myself.

“Tell me what you’re doing.”

There’s another beat of silence. Long enough that I picture the flush creeping over her cheeks, the way she’d avoid my eyes if I were there with her.

“I…I’m rubbing my clit.”

Fuck.

My head drops back against my bed as I squeeze my eyes shut. I can see her so fucking clearly—sprawled across her bed, legs parted, fingers moving between them.

My cock throbs against my sweats.

“Good girl.” My voice comes out rougher than I intend. “Keep doing that.”

“Uh-huh.”

Her voice is breathy and distracted, like she’s already losing herself to the pleasure.

“Keep going, Harper. Faster. Add a finger.”

Her answering moan goes straight to my cock. Something rustles through the speaker. It sounds like sheets shifting and then the soft thump of her phone hitting the bed.

She put me on speakerphone.

Jesus Christ.

“Do you have both hands now?” I ask, lowering my voice.

“Yeah.”

The word is barely more than a whisper.

I drag a hand over my mouth, fighting the urge to touch myself, but I want this to be about her. I want to hear how I can make her fall apart without laying a single fucking finger on her.

“Good. Pinch your nipple with your other hand. Hard. Just like I would.”

“Ahh,” she groans. My stomach tightens at the sound.

“That’s it.” I close my eyes again, letting every little noise coming through the speaker paint the picture for me. “Tell me when you’re close.”

For the next few minutes, I barely say anything.

I just listen.

To the soft rustle of sheets. The broken sighs she tries and fails to swallow. The way her breathing gets progressively rougher until every inhale seems to catch in her throat.

“Fuck, Nate, I…”

“Are you gonna come?”

“Yes.” Her answer turns into another moan. “Oh my God, yes!”

I wait another second until I’m sure she’s as close as she can possibly be without tipping over the edge.

“Stop.”

Her breathing catches for half a second. “What?”