Mason Rivera
Yeah, I think you are.
I think you know I can make you feel good.
Pull your shirt open. Show me how pretty you are.
I have to put my phone down to do it, but I grab it back quickly, watching for what he’ll say next.
Mason Rivera
You want me to touch them?
Lick them?
I know I want that.
Mason, please
Mason Rivera
Please what, pretty girl?
Please lick your tits?
Or please make you come?
Make me come
I'm close
I'm so close
My thighs are trembling. The pressure is building so fast I can barely breathe, barely think.
Mason Rivera
You're mine, Lily.
Now come.
Come for me.
The orgasm explodes through me.
My back arches off the couch. My mouth opens in a silent scream. The phone falls from my hand as wave after wave crashes through me, obliterating thought, obliterating fear, obliterating everything except the raw, overwhelming sensation offeeling.
His words echo in my mind—You're mine—and I come harder, my fingers still moving against my clit, my body shaking with the force of it.
When it's over, I collapse back against the cushions, gasping for air. My entire body vibrates with the orgasm, and I reach for my phone with shaking fingers.
I
…
My face starts to burn. How do I say I’m done? Why am I being so weird? I just sexted him—telling him I came is the least of it.
I amnotthinking about what will happen when I see him in person next. That’s a thought I can’t handle right now.