Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“I’m in my room.”
“Good girl,” he husks, and heat pools between my thighs. “Em?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to hang up and call you back with a video call. I need to see you.”
“Okay.” The call ends abruptly but rings in with a video call not seconds later. “Hey.” I smile at him.
“Damn, seeing your smile is all it takes to brighten my day.”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too. Can you do something for me?”
“Anything.”
“Strip. I need you naked.”
“Only if you do too.”
“Done.” The phone jostles and then all I see is the ceiling of his bedroom. “You stripping for me, baby girl?” His voice is deep and gruff, and so incredibly sexy. I can’t see him, but I can hear his clothes rustling.
I clear my throat and start to strip. “I am now.”
“Fuck yes, you are,” he says, and I can’t help but smile.
Once I’m rid of all my clothes, I climb on the bed and lift my phone so he can only see my face.
“Don’t hide from me, Em.”
“I feel weird,” I confess, and I close my eyes because that’s just another reminder to him about how inexperienced I am. Another glaring sign that says he’s ten years older than me.
“We don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
“I want to, Rome. I just don’t know how to.”
“There is no right or wrong way, baby girl. You do what feels right. You don’t have to show me if that makes you feel uncomfortable.”
“Are you going to show me?”
“Is that what you want? You want to see me stroke my cock while I think about you?”
“I do now,” I say with a nervous laugh. He laughs too, and that seems to break some of the tension coiling inside me. “What do you want to see?”
“Anything. Everything.”
The camera pans down his abs until he reaches his cock. His fist is gripping it tight, his piercing shining like a beacon in the night.
“This is how much I miss you,” he says, his fist tightening as he strokes himself from root to tip.
“Damn,” I mutter.
“Are you wet for me?”
I nod. Then ask, “Do you want to see?”
“Only if you want to show me.”
“That’s not what I asked you.” I find my voice. This is Roman. I’ve known him my entire life and I know he’s not recording me or doing anything malicious on his end. I let my nerves get the better of me, but now, seeing him, I’m more turned on than I ever thought possible in a situation like this.
We miss each other, and if this is what he needs to get through our separation, who am I to deny him? Besides, I’ve spent a few nights with my vibrator since I’ve been back at college, and it’s just not the same. Not after experiencing orgasms from the hands and the mouth of the man on the other end of the line.
“Yes. I want to see your pussy.”
A rush of heat pools between my thighs and I know exactly what he’s going to see when I show him. Because I am going to show him. We’re in this together, and we have to deal with this separation the best way that we know how.
Taking a deep breath, I spread my legs and point the phone to the juncture of my thighs. I’m breathing heavily, and when I hear his groan of pleasure, I tilt the screen so I can see, and his fist is pumping faster over his cock.
“I need you to touch yourself, Em.”
I think about the logistics of how that’s going to work and get an idea. I grab the extra pillows and place them between my legs to prop up my phone.
“Oh, fuck me,” he says, and I grin.
Lying back, I pretend like it’s just me here in the room, that Roman can’t see me as I slide my fingers over my clit. I rub gently, and my belly quivers.
“I need you to hold those lips open for me, baby girl. I need to see all of you.”
Doing as he asks, I use one hand to hold myself open for him, while the other explores. “Like this?” I ask softly. I hate I need his direction and bringing notice to that, but I also want this to be good for him. I’m learning as we go, and from the rapid stroke of his hand on his cock, I’d say Roman doesn’t give a fuck that I need direction. He’s enjoying the show.
“Slip a finger inside. Nice and slow.”
I do, and the sensation has me moaning, “Rome.” His name is a whisper on my lips.
“Don’t stop,” he rasps. “Your pussy’s crying for me. Fuck me, I wish I was there to devour you. I would take every drop you have to give.”
His words send sparks of desire rolling through my veins like a summer storm. “I’m close.”