That’s what he told me in the ICU. Even though I was mostly out of it, I remember he delivered this message with so much conviction.
This has to be it.
My body reacts to that certainty in an instant.
Heat pools between my thighs, making my pussy even more sensitive than before. My legs rub against each other, desperate for friction.
I need him. His hand down my panties. His mouth on mine.
But since I can’t have him right now…
Since there are no cameras here…
Since my orgasm is already coiling, whispering, my body begging for release…
There’s no harm in touching myself.
My hand locks around his boxers, and my knees go so weak that I have to lean my back against the wall.
As I bring his briefs up to my face and press them to my nose, my belly flutters.
Like I’ve done every night since I stole them, I inhale the scent of Alaric’s detergent, clean and perfect, even if it’s thinner now.
I take another breath. Another hit.
Everything about this man is so addictive.
This man will also catch me red-handed unless I hurry.
Using one hand, I undo the button of my jeans and pull it free. I lower the zipper and feel cool air brushing my soaked panties.
I’m ready, hot and wanting, letting my eyes flutter shut as I imagine Alaric between my thighs.
My hand slips beneath my panties, parting my lips.
So good.
Beneath my fingertip, my clit is swollen, throbbing.
Oh. My. God.
I move it to where I ache for him, pushing one finger into my sex to get myself wet.
After seeing and feeling how big Alaric is, I’m dying to shove three or four fingers inside, to know what it’ll be like when he stretches me.
But since I don’t come as fast when I finger-fuck myself, I save it for another day.
Tonight, I slide my finger up and start drawing slow, then fast circles over my clit.
Fuck, I mouth, my lips moving against his boxers.Fuuuck.
I imagine Alaric’s here, licking my pussy. Heightening my arousal with his tongue on me. He won’t stop until I’m quivering and shaking, and even then, he’ll force another orgasm out of me.
I’m sure he will.
My hips thrust forward, bucking, searching. The back of my head rolls against the wall, my hair getting messier by the second.
I can’t slow, can’t be gentler.