"How would I know? I hate chess. It's awful and boring." She groans. It's a low, throaty groan.
It's sexy as all hell.
But still, I need to torture her as much as I can.
I exhale into the phone. "And the whole point of the game is protecting the king."
"But isn't he useless? Isn't the queen some kind of Lady MacBeth with all sorts of mad skills?"
"And you acted like you knew nothing about chess."
She groans, louder this time. "Goddammit, Luke. Why do you make my life so difficult?"
"Because you like it better when I make you wait." And I like it better when I get to watch her contort in pleasure for as long as possible.
She sighs, giving up any pretenses. "You know what things I mean. Where are you staying?"
"Miss Summers, that doesn't sound like an appropriate question."
"Oh, God." She mumbles something.
I can practically see her cheeks turning red, her teeth sinking into her lip. She's flustered. She's so fucking cute when she's flustered.
"A hotel," I say.
"A nice hotel?"
I look around the room. It's yellow from the fluorescent lights, but dim at the same time. I need something more vibrant. It would be more vibrant if she was here to brighten it with her clear, blue eyes. And her smile. God, that smile would brighten the whole fucking room.
And her skin. He skin glows like the fucking sun. It's so soft, and bright, and gorgeous.
God, if she was here, I could feel her body against mine. I could feel her breath on my neck. Her nails on my back. And she would whisper in my ear. Maybe we could...
She'd blush, a little shy about it. And the color would be so fucking gorgeous on her skin. So pink and bright, like her lips. And she'd press those lips into mine, and they would be soft and sweet. So fucking sweet. And I would run my fingertips over that amazing, soft skin, and she would groan and arch and shake, and I'd keep doing it until she was writhing in pleasure. Until I was so hard I couldn't take it anymore.
"Luke?" And I'm back to attention.
"It would be nicer if you were here."
"And you're alone at this hotel?"
"Miss Summers, what are you getting at?"
CHAPTER NINE
"It's weird to talk about it. I've never done anything like that before." She lets out a nervous laugh, and then her voice gets lower. "But I miss you. I want to feel like you're next to me. I want to hear you..."
She takes a deep breath. God, it's so fucking adorable that she's nervous.
She exhales slowly, adopting her most confident voice. "I want to hear you come."
Blood rushes to my cock. It would feel damn good to groan into the phone, to listen to her panting and screaming. But not yet. Not until she's desperate.
I play coy. "Oh yeah?"
She groans. "Jesus, Luke. You're torturing me. I'm never talking about this again without two shots of tequila first."
"Why do you want to hear?"
"Because you're incredibly sexy." She clears her throat. "And I like it when you come."
"Do you?"
"You're evil." Her voice is low, desperate.
I swallow and dig my hands into the sheets. "And how do you propose we accomplish this task?"
She laughs. "I'm getting a drink. And then, maybe, we can talk about this further."
I shut the blinds so this room is ours.
"I could start."
"Drink first," she says.
She puts down the phone, and the room is quiet for a minute. I haven't done this before either, but God, I would do so many damn things to Alyssa. If she was here, I'd peel off her clothes and touch every part of her. I love the feel of her body, the way she responds to me. I love looking at her. I get hard just picturing her naked--the soft curves of her body, her firm breasts, those pert nipples, so perfect and pink.
Fuck.
I hear her breath first.
"I'm putting you on speaker." She sounds so nervous. "So, um..."
"Your hands can be occupied by other things?"
"I should have taken two shots." She pushes out a throaty exhale. "I, um, what are you wearing?"
I glance in the mirror on the wall. "Jeans and a cotton V-neck."
"Take them off." Her voice is so desperate, so needy. "Please."
Suddenly these clothes feel heavy. Like they're in the way. But I'm not going to let her know that. "What's in it for me?"
"My undying appreciation."
"I think you can do better than that."
"I'll tell you what I'm going to do to you when you get back here."
"And what is that?"
"Suck you off," she says.
Fuck. Intelligible thought flees my brain. Instead, it floods with the memory of Alyssa's mouth on me--that soft, sweet mouth driving me out of my fucking mind.
I clear my throat. "And what are you wearing?"
"That blue dress you like," she says.
"That's far too much. Take it off."
I expect her to object, but she lets out a sexy murmur.
I slide my T-shirt over my head. It's only fair.
My senses start turning on. The air conditioning is blowing hard, making the hairs on my neck rise. God, if she were here, I could throw her on the bed and get this room so fucking hot.
She breathes hard into the phone. "It's off."
Heat spreads through my body, but I can't give in. Not yet. "What's left?"
"A pink bra and a thong."
Fuck, she must look amazing. The pink pressed against her soft skin. The fabric straining over the curves of her hips. Her lips curled into a coy smile. Her cheeks flushed the same pink as her bra. Mhmm. I want to be there, to peel her bra off her shoulders and bring my mouth to her nipples. To slide her panties down her hips and rub her until she's screaming my name. She's so fucking sexy, and she's so far away.
My cock constricts. God, if she was here...
"I bet you look fucking divine," I say.
"If you ask nicely, I might send you a picture."
"Hell yes."
She moans into the phone. "That isn't that nice." She's enjoying her turn at torturing me.
"Pretty please." I need that picture, and I need it now.
Her moan is lower, louder. "That's pretty nice..."
"Please, Miss Summers, let me see how amazing you look, so I can go crazy wishing I was next to you."
My phone buzzes with the picture message. She's even more divine than she was in my imagination. She's looking at the mirror with
fuck me
eyes--that look that says she'd kill to have me inside of her.
Her teeth are sinking into her lip. One hand is on her phone. The other is running over the cups of her bra. It's that pink lacy one, and its straps are falling off her shoulders. Her back is arched and her cheeks are flushed.
It's like she's begging me to touch her. Like she's begging me to run my hands along the edges of her bra. She'd be squirming and groaning, her eyes closed as she fills with pleasure. And she'd arch and groan and pant, begging me to go inside her bra.
"Fuck." My breath is heavy. "You're so fucking sexy." I put my phone on speaker and slide out of my jeans. "Fuck, Ally, I'm going to get you back for all this torture."
"What are you going to do?" she asks.
"I'm going to peel off that bra," I say. "Slowly. Very slowly. And I'm going to take in every inch of you with my eyes, because you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and God, I love your body. And fuck, your breasts are amazing. They're so round and firm, and honestly, it's a crime that you ever wear clothing."
Her breath gets heavier. "And?"
"And I'm going to touch you so lightly you can barely feel it. Just my fingertips on your back and your stomach and your shoulders. And, slowly, very slowly, I'll work my way to your breasts. And then I'll stop. I'll wait until you're writing in agony, until you tug my hair and scream my name, and then, and only then, I'll rub my thumbs over your nipples."
She moans into the phone.
"God, I wish I could do it right now. It's so sexy when you do that. It drives me fucking crazy. I want to fuck you so badly, but I can't stop watching you fill with pleasure. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
I want her so much, my body is tingling with desire.
"Are you still dressed?" she asks.
"Just the boxers."
"Take them off," she says. "I want to hear you touch yourself."
I slide out of my boxers and shift onto the bed. If she were here... Jesus, if she were here.
I put the phone on speaker, and run my fingers along my cock. "I'm going to fuck you properly when I'm back home," I groan. "But not until you're begging me to do it."
My breath gets heavy. Flashes of Alyssa fill my head. The taste of her skin. The way she groans when I suck on her nipples. God, those nipples, so perky and firm and responsive. I stroke myself. Harder and harder and harder.
Pangs of pleasure shoot through my body.
"Jesus, Ally," I groan.
She moans into the phone. She moans like she's in heaven.
"Take off your bra," I say. "Now."
I hear her shifting.
Her breath gets heavier. "It's off."
"Now run your fingers over your breasts. Slowly, the way I do."
She groans. "Luke... I want to... I can't wait."
"You will," I say. I stroke myself, harder and harder, filling my body with the sweetest pressure. "Do you want to fuck me?"
"Yes," she moans.
"Do you want to touch yourself?"
"Yes."
"Not yet," I say. "Rub your nipples. Slowly."
Her voice is a low groan. She's not holding anything back. She's mine, even if she's far away.
She's mine.
I stroke myself. "You're so fucking sexy, Ally. The way you move when I touch you... it drives me out of my fucking mind."
"Luke," she groans, her voice needy and desperate
She's touching herself, moaning, probably writhing the way she does when I touch her. Fuck, I bet she's so wet. I bet she's desperate for me to touch her. She'd beg if I made her. She'd scream in pleasure if I slid my cock inside of her.
My grip around my cock gets tighter. The warmth spreads through my body, filling me with pleasure. I'm close.
"Are you wet?" I ask.
"Mhmm."
"Now," I say. "Touch yourself. I want you to come, Ally. I want you to scream my name when you do it."
She groans some agreement, and I stroke myself harder and harder, faster and faster.
Fuck. The room fills with her pants and moans. It's like she's here, like I'm the one filling her with pleasure, the one making her come. My mind is a jumble of Alyssa. The taste of her. The sound of her groan. Her hands tugging at my hair as she rocks into my mouth, practically screaming. Her moan filling my room. The warmth flooding my body. The pleasure and pressure and need building. Her back arching. Her nails on my skin.
I'm almost there. I stroke again. Again. Again. Everything in my body fills with pleasure.
"Fuck, Luke," she says.
Her voice is high and needy, and it pushes me over the edge. The pressure is too much. It feels so fucking good, and I can't hold off any longer. Another stroke, harder and faster. It's deep and intense, so intense it almost hurts.
I lose any conscious thought. Almost there. I groan. "Fuck, Ally," and I tighten my grip. One last stroke and the pressure builds to a climax. Pleasure rips through me as I come. I groan again, releasing everything, my body filling with a pleasant warmth.
It takes forever to catch my breath.
"Jesus, Luke," she says.
"Look at what you do to me." Every part of me is sensitive. I feel my inhale all the way to my toes.
"That was amazing."
Her voice is still high, still needy. She still needs to come. She needs to feel as good as I feel.
"You know," I say. "I only went first because you made such a nice request. I want to hear you too. I need to."
She doesn't say anything, but her breath gets heavier. Her moans get louder.
"Mhmmm."
Her voice is high, and she's so, so full of need. She's so fucking sexy. It builds slowly, getting louder and higher, until she's not just moaning. She's panting. She's screaming. She's desperately close.
It's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.
"Luke," she moans.
Her voice fills the room, enveloping me in the ecstasy of her pleasure.
"Louder," I say.
And she groans louder. She's moving fast, I can tell. I know how she looks like this--her eyes closed, her back arching, her nails digging into the bed. It's the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen.
"Luke," she groans again, louder this time. "Fuck, Luke."
She's almost there.
She loses control of her breath, panting, practically screaming. "Fuck, Luke."
Her moans build as she gets closer and closer. "Jesus, I'm going to... Fuck..." And she gets louder and louder.
She's all animal--groaning and panting and breathing heavily. She's loud and deep, and she's so fucking sexy.
She builds to a crescendo. She groans, one more time, deeper and louder, more and more and more.
And she comes, panting and screaming and moaning through her orgasm.
Her breath is still heavy and strained. It gets louder. She must be moving the phone closer.
She attempts a slow inhale. A calm exhale. "That was amazing."
I murmur some kind of agreement.
We breathe into the phone for a minute. It's almost like she's here, almost like my arms are wrapped around her.
"I'll send you all the pictures you want if that's how you'll react," she says.
"I can agree to those terms."
"But I want some pictures of my own."
"I think that can be arranged."
She murmurs in pleasure. "If I think about that, I'll want to go again."
"I'll fuck you senseless when I get home."
"Well, don't wait too long. I'm not sure I have the patience for it." She sighs wistfully, her breath slowing until it's steady and even.