His words are hot and urgent against my skin. “I want you to say it. Ask me to touch you.”
“Why?” I grip the edge of the table and my knuckles turn white.
“Because I want it, and so do you.”
If he doesn’t do something soon, I’ll burst into flames. If I say it, at least he’ll stop asking about orgasms. On a hard exhalation, I say, “Please touch me.”
“Answer my question and I will.” Another hard squeeze.
Not this again. A low, feral sound echoes on the air, and to my shock, I realize it came from me. Maybe a small admission to get him to stop talking and start acting. I shake my head. “I didn’t think about anything.”
“Hmmm…” He sounds skeptical. “I need a little more than that.”
I shift in my seat, closer to him, encouraging him. “Can’t we stop talking now?”
“I don’t think so.” He licks the curve of my neck. “Tell me, and I’ll rub your clit. I promise it’s worth it.”
Yes. That did sound delicious and he’s not going to be dissuaded, so it’s better to answer and get it over with. I clear my throat and ignore the strong fingers stroking over flesh I had no idea was sensitive. “I did some research on the Internet.”
His hand stills. “You researched it on the Internet?”
How else was I supposed to figure it out? I close my eyes. “Yes. And I did everything they said, but it didn’t work.”
“Why do you think it didn’t work?”
Get it over with. I let out a tiny moan, then continue. “I don’t know. I’d lie there, and try, but I’d get frustrated because I couldn’t figure out if I was doing it right. And then I’d start thinking about things I needed to do at work the next day, or what I forgot to put on my grocery list and before I knew it, I’d lost interest.”
“Ah, now it’s starting to make sense. It’s hard to turn off your brain.”
I nod.
“You think your brain’s shut off now, Abby?” His voice is low and sinful. Before I can answer, his hand covers my mound. A low groan sounds from deep in his throat. “Considering how wet you are, I’d say we’re well on the way.”
His fingers travel without resistance along my slick, swollen skin. Oh my god, I’m practically dripping into his palm. Sensations tingle through me and I gasp, “I’m sorry.”
“There is nothing to be sorry about.” In a slow, steady circle, he begins to rub.
My muscles clench.
“You forgot the most important part of touching yourself.”
Nothing I’d experienced before either with men or myself had felt like this, like a spring coiling tighter and tighter inside me. He seems to know something important, so I manage to ask, “What’s that?”
“You forgot the fantasy. The seduction.” He keeps up a smooth rhythm and I put my head in my hands, shutting my eyes to block out the restaurant and concentrate on the pleasure. Yes, that’s better. It makes the coil sharper, easier to focus on. He picks up his pace and, unable to help myself, I rock into his hand, a tiny moan escaping my lips.
What is he doing?It’s so…so…good. Awesome.
“Feels good, doesn’t it, Abby?”
“Oh god yes.”
“Right here, right now, is why you have domination fantasies. Because it doesn’t matter what your brain tells you.” His fingers sink inside my pussy.
I shudder. The spring coils ever tighter until it’s all I can think about. Along my neck, his hot, ragged breath warms my already overheated skin. “You’re not going to be able to think your way out of this, little girl. You’re going to come for me tonight.”
All coherent thought scrambles as his fingers begin to pump. Harder. Faster.
I bite my lip to keep from crying out.