I kept my voice low, hoping the phone could still pick it up. I didn’t want Dom or Darcy to overhear, though they were making enough noise that I could probably have a loud conversation and it wouldn’t stop them.
My phone rang straight away and I scrabbled to answer it. I threw a glance at the wall behind me, hoping it went unnoticed.
I lowered my hips, groaning deeply at the stretch as my fingers released. I freed my hand from the headboard, leaning down to make sure the video was really off.
As she said, the sound and video were muted on her end.
“Can you hear me?” I asked.
Seconds later, a message popped through on chat.
Yes. Loud and clear. I want to capture every sound you make.
I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks.
“You’ve been planning this for weeks?”
I’ve been wanting to do this for longer than that. I just didn’t know how to tell you.
I was tempted to let it go because my body already felt so good, but she was finally there, reaching for me from the other end of the line, and I didn’t want to miss this chance.
“Then why haven’t you messaged me until now? Are you angry with me?”
Like I said, I was really busy.
Pain floated through me like tiny needles. It didn’t need to hurt this much. But maybe this was payback for how she said I’d ignored her for over a year. I could understand her anger more now that I was experiencing it for myself.
“Can we actually talk then? Even if it’s like this?” I asked. I wanted to believe that hearing her voice would help with my growing confusion. “I really want to know how you feel about the vote.” Is what I said, but as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I was circling my hole. I went to say more, but another text came through quickly.
Maybe we can talk later.
What position are you in?
I scowled at how easily she changed the subject. I opened my mouth, getting ready to fight with her, but instead, I chose to bite it back.
Because what did I want more? If I were really being honest with myself? Did I want to fight with my fiancée who was two thousand miles away? Or did I want to continue pleasuring myself, treating myself with the ‘reward’ she sent me? Even if I thought of Dom?
Despite the fact he was next door fucking another man, Dom’s was still the face I was going to picture when I did it.
“On my knees, facing the headboard, like you asked,” I replied, my voice trembling, chest heaving.
And your fingers?
“Shit,” I said through clenched teeth.
I was supposed to stop myself. I was supposed to admit that this was wrong on so many levels, that making the choice to do this was worse than anything I had done so far.
But when I lined up two fingers and pushed, the feelings fled. I moaned, pressing my lips against the soft flesh of my arm, my other hand gripping my cock.
Fuck, you sound so good.
Was that you entering yourself?
“Yes,”I panted, shaking my head as I pushed my finger deeper.
I wish I could see you.
I want to see how good you look exposing yourself to me.