"Good girl," I murmur, my hand sliding down my own chest, my cock already hard with wanting her. "Tell me what it feels like."
"I can't..." she breathes, but there's heat in her voice, want threading through the protest.
"You can," I say, my own hand gripping my cock. "I'm right here with you."
A soft whimper escapes her, and I know she's giving in. The sound goes straight through me, making my pulse hammer against my throat.
"Tell me," I coax, my voice rough with need. "Are you wet?"
"Soaked," she whispers, so quiet I have to strain to hear.
I groan low in my throat. "You're killing me."
"I'm... God, Asher, I shouldn't be doing this," she whispers.
"But you are," I murmur, giving my cock a hard stroke. "Because you want to. Because you've been thinking about it too."
Her breathing quickens, little gasps that make my blood run hot. "Yes."
"That's it, Sunshine. Don't think. Just feel." I close my eyes, imagining her spread out her bed, her back arching. "I wish it were my hand instead of yours."
"It will be," she promises, and the words light me up from the inside out. "Next time. I want your hands on me so badly."
I bite back a curse, my own movements growing rougher. "Tell me what you're doing. I want to hear it."
"Slowly circling my clit," she says, her voice a trembling whisper.
"Don't stop," I command gently. "Keep going."
"It's so much better when I imagine it's you," she confesses, and I can hear the shame and desire tangled in her voice. "When I close my eyes and think about your hands, your mouth..."
"My mouth," I echo, groaning. "Christ, I want my mouth on you. Want to taste you everywhere."
She moans softly, a sound that nearly undoes me. I grip myself harder, my hips lifting involuntarily from the mattress.
"Are you touching yourself too?" she asks, her voice thick with desire.
"Since the moment you said yes," I admit. "Hard as steel thinking about you."
"Tell me," she whispers. "I want to hear what you're doing."
I swallow hard, unused to putting this into words. "Stroking myself. Slow, then faster. Thinking about how wet you are, how you'd feel around me."
"Yes," she breathes. "I think about that too. When I'm alone."
The admission sends heat spiraling through me. "You've thought about us together before?"
"So many times," she confesses, her breath catching. "Ever since that walk around the lake."
I laugh softly, surprised. "That long?"
"That long," she confirms. "God, Asher, I'm close already."
"Not yet," I say, slowing my own movements. "Stay with me. Not yet."
Her soft whimper makes my jaw clench. I can hear her trying to slow down, the effort in her breathing.
"Good girl," I murmur. "I want us to come together."