Discover Me (8 page)

He finished
unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it off and tossing it to the ground. All that
beautiful skin, the wonderful flex of his muscles, moving beneath his skin like
the tide.

“Take off
your shirt; trace the path with your fingers.” She was pulling it off her body
before he finished speaking, pushing her shorts down as well. He grunted in
what she assumed was approval. “No underwear. Very eager.”

A kernel
of embarrassment threatened to overwhelm her desire, but she ignored it.
Instead she removed her hand from the window and touched her body as she would
his. She kept her eyes on him, loving the way his breathing changed as he
watched her. Her skin was sensitive as she traced her fingers along her
collarbone and across her chest. Her nipples hardened when she circled them,
and a moan slipped from her as her fingers teased them to hard points. When she
traced a finger down her stomach to the apex of her thighs, her eyes slid shut.

“Tell me
what you’d do,” he demanded, pulling her back to him.

“I’d lick
your hips first, moving down to trace the muscles of your thighs with my
tongue. Then I’d wrap my hand around you,” she gasped out as she touched
herself. Her hips rocking against her questing fingers, her mind focused on his
voice, and the pictures she was creating with her words.

“Would you
take me in your mouth, Sylvia?” Rough and silky, his voice flowed over
her.
 
Teasing along side her
fingers, her mind picturing his hand where hers played.

“Yes. Yes,
as far as I can take you. I need to know what you taste like; all of you.” Her
voice broke at the end as her pleasure started to mount.

“Open your
eyes and look at me.” It took a moment, but she managed to focus her eyes on
him. He was standing now as naked as she was, staring up at her. She moaned at
the sight of his hand gliding fast up and down his length. “I’d like to see those
beautiful lips wrapped around me. See you looking up at me with the same look
of pleasure you’re wearing now.”

His words
did something to her. She felt her body flutter and knew it wouldn’t be long.
Her one wish was to know his name. “Please,” She whispered. “Tell me your
name.”

“Why?” His
voice lost its smoothness, as his passion grew hotter.

“Because I
want to scream it when I come.”

His eyes
were riveted to what she was doing. She closed her eyes because she didn’t
think he was going to tell her and she was too close to care. “Damon.” He
whispered. Her eyes shot open and met his across the space. “Say me name,
Sylvia.”

“Damon.”
She panted out.

“Say it
again.” His hand moved fast, gripping tight around his shaft and making her
mouth water with longing. Just the sight was enough to send her over the edge.

“Damon.”

His name
felt so good on her lips, and she uttered it over and over. She tossed back,
rocked her hips, and rode the wave of her climax as it rippled along her nerve
endings. Her knees felt weak and her mind fuzzy, but her body was hummed with
satisfaction. The only thing better would be having him next to her, inside
her, making her feel this good.

“Damon,” she
whispered as she opened her eyes only to find his curtain closed.

The sound
of his breathing greeted her. It was harsh, rapid, and a signal of her effect
on him.

“Tomorrow,
Sylvia. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.” She whispered
before hanging up.

***

“Sylvia.”

“Damon.” The
sultry tone of her voice didn’t surprise her like it should.

“What are
you wearing tonight?”

She pulled
the curtains back to look down into his room, but his curtains were closed, the
lights. Confusion rose at the realization that he wasn’t there tonight. The
urge to ask him was on the tip of her tongue, but she stopped herself. Her
confusion morphed into disappointment, which settled like a lead weight in her
stomach. She wanted to see him, to have his eyes on her.

As long as
he was there, as long as she could hear his voice, it would have to be enough.

“Sylvia?” The
way his rough voice caressed her name made her shiver. “Tell me.”

“I’m
wearing my favorite bra and panties.” She ran her hands over the lace cups,
once again disappointed that he wouldn’t see them.

“Take them
off.” Her heart began to race at his words.

“Don’t you
want to see me?” She asked.

“I will.
Right now I want you to take them off and tell me each move you make.”

Getting
off her bed, she walked over to her mirror. For some reason she needed to watch
herself as she removed her things. She traced a finger lightly over the edge of
her panties loving the way the bright pink color looked against her skin.

“I’m standing
in front of the mirror.” She couldn’t lift her voice above a whisper. “Which do
I take off first?”

“The bra. Talk
to me.” He sounded like he was walking somewhere. The distinct sound of
footsteps sounded through the line.

Not
wanting to lose the moment with too many questions, she let herself get into
it. “I’m rubbing my hand across my chest.” She let her fingers trail down one
strap, across the edge of the cups, and up the other strap.

“What
color is your bra?”

“Pink.”

“Very
sweet. Now what?” The sound of footsteps grew muffled.

“I’m pushing
the straps down my arm, first the left, and now the right. The straps are off
completely and I’m reaching around to unhook it.” The moment she did her
breasts fell free of the lace and the bra floated to the floor.

His voice
was an octave lower when he spoke, “Are your nipples hard?”

She
glanced at them in the mirror. They were tight and her breasts felt heavy.
 
Dark berries, thrusting from her chest,
longing to be tasted.
 
The skin of
her areola crinkled more at the thought of his mouth on her.

“Yes.” She
whispered back.

He
groaned. “Are you touching yourself?”

“Do you
want me to?”

“Not yet.
Take those panties off.”

“Okay.”
She held the phone between her ear and shoulder and hooked her fingers under
the band. “I’m inching them down, over my hips, and down my thighs.”

“Are you
wet? Touch yourself and tell me.”

She
stepped out of her panties and then watched in the mirror as she slid her
fingers up her thighs.
 
A single
glide of her finger through her slit collected so much cream. “Yes, I’m wet.”
She caressed herself barely suppressing a moan.

“Good.” He
cleared his throat of the hoarseness. “Go into the living room and sit on the
couch.”

Her hand
stilled. “Why?”

“Because I
want to picture you spread out on the couch waiting for me.”

The image
of her lying on the couch, naked and waiting for him, made her gasp. “Okay.”

She walked
out of her room and down into the living room.
 
Sylvia left the curtains closed, but she
got a tiny thrill out of the possibility of someone seeing her as she moved
naked through her house.
 
Her walk
slowed as she moved to the beige couch, draping her body on the cushions.

“Touch
yourself, Sylvia. Picture me doing it.” There was that hypnotic quality to his
voice she couldn’t say no to, pulling her to action. “Tell me how it feels.”

Her hand
found its way between her thighs again and she slicked her finger through the
wetness.
 
Swirling over her clit,
letting it swell to attention. She let her legs fall open, the lips of her slit
opening wider.

“Wet,
warm.” His groan spurred her on. “It feels good. I’ve got my legs spread and my
fingers moving slowly. I wish it were you touching me, putting your cock inside.
You would feel so hard and strong.” She threw her head back as a strong
sensation shivered through her. “And I’d never grow tired of you taking me.”
She gasped out.

“I’ll wear
you out.” His breathing was shallow. “You’ll be too tired to move in the
morning.” His words held promise.

“Come wear
me out then, Damon.” She moved her fingers faster, arching into it. “I don’t
want to be able to move.”

She was so
close, and tilted her hips to hasten her pleasure. Her hips surged to meet the
movements of her fingers. She tweaked her nipple, letting the pleasure zing and
build like a fire inside. She didn’t stop the sounds she made, his name
tumbling from her lips.

A knock on
the door startled her. Sylvia froze as the first glimmers of her release
shivered through her. She couldn’t prevent the cry that flew from her lips. It
was one of surprise and passion.

“Can I watch?”
Damon’s voice sounded on the line and through the door as another wave washed
over her.

He was so
close. Sylvia lay back against the couch as a trickle of anxiety wormed through
her. Fear and desire warred as she considered letting in the man she only knew
from a distance.

Was she
safe to let this man into her house or her body?

“I can
practically hear your thoughts.” There was an amused quality to his voice.
“You’re wondering if I’ll hurt you.”

She pushed
up, staring at the door as she asked, “Would you?”

“No,” he
said firmly. And some part of her believed him. “I don’t want to hurt you; I
want to touch you. I want to touch you with my hands, then my lips, and then my
tongue. Then I want to part your legs and slid between them so you can feel me
inside of you. You want that, don’t you, Sylvia?”

Her heart
was racing with longing for everything he offered, “I do, but . . .”

“You’re
scared; I understand.” There was rustling that caught her attention. “I want to
make myself as vulnerable as you are now.”

“How are
you going to do that?” She swung her legs over the edge, her eyes still glued
to the door.

“I took
off my clothes and I’m standing on your porch naked.”

“What?”
Her eyes drifted shut as she pictured it.

“I’m out
here waiting for you in nothing but my skin. I’m excited just thinking about
you on the couch.”

A streak
of daring raced through her. “What would you do if let you in?”

“I’d take
you and lay you on the floor. I’d touch you and taste you until you screamed.”

“Do you
want me that bad?” She found herself rising off the couch and walking toward
the door.

“I do.
I’ve been thinking about it for days. Every time you open your curtains, I go a
little crazy. I’ve been wanting you, dreaming about you.”

She
reached for the knob, the metal cool on her skin, and paused. “You’ve been
dreaming about me?”

His sigh
came through the line. “I dream of you and wake up hard. I picture you
underneath me, your soft lips on mine, and touching you. Then I jack off to
that thought, knowing it’s not enough.”

Yes, she
thought. She took a deep breath and pulled the door open. Her breath caught in
her throat at the sight of him standing there as naked as he said he would be.
Light from the street lamp spilled over his skin making him appear a beautiful
golden color. His erection thrust towards her in a way that belied his relaxed
stance against the doorframe. They stared at each other for a long moment,
electricity bouncing between them.

“You’re
beautiful.” His eyes seemed to burn into hers.

“So are
you,” she whispered.

A
beautiful smile spread across his face and she felt her body sway toward him.
He straightened up to take a small step toward her and that was all it took for
her to end up in his arms. Sylvia let him devour her, let him take control of
the moment. He picked her up and carried her back into the door kicking the
door shut behind him. They barely made it to the living room before he had her
on the floor by the couch. The kiss went on and on, she felt like she could
barely breathe.

“You feel
so good.” He breathed against her lips.

His mouth
moved down to the pulse point at her neck, his hand slipped between to touch
her. She arched into him, spreading her legs wide to welcome him. Each caress,
each nip of his teeth fired her higher until she was writhing and moaning. He
settled into that space in between her thighs, fitting his body against.
 

So warm, a
perfect fit, his skin slipping along hers.

She
wrapped her legs around him trapping him against her. “I need you. Please.”

His hand
was gone in an instant to be replaced by the brush of his shaft against her
core. She scratched her nails down his back, reaching to grip his ass,
beckoning him inside. He inched forward and she groaned at the feeling of him
stretching her wide.

More, she
wanted more. He froze and she cried out in frustration. Her nails dug into the
taut skin of his butt determined to bring him as deep as he could go.