Trapped (Caged #2)(21)

Once it hit the center of the dip again, I fanned out my fingers—still keeping my touch ultra-light—and stroked slowly toward the outside of her breast. I could feel my own breathing increasing in tempo with hers as I touched her through the thin material. I mimicked the motion with my other hand and the other breast, leaning in to kiss her shoulder as I moved.

I didn’t push the material aside like I wanted to. This was far more than I expected out of the evening, and I wasn’t going to push her any further unless she explicitly asked for it. Instead, I swirled the tip of my finger around her nipple and felt it tighten with my touch.

Tria gasped, and her hips bucked slightly, which brought a huge smile to my face. I continued with the light, barely there touches until her eyes were hooded and her mouth dropped open as she exhaled.

“Do you feel that?” I whispered against her neck as I traced the outside of her nipple. I pulled back a little so I was over her again and then let my gaze linger down her body. “All the way down between your legs?”

She gasped, and her gaze darted to mine. She shifted quickly from shock to desire, and moved to run her hand down my chest again, this time dropping lower. I captured her mouth as her finger traced the thin line of hair from my navel down to the top button of my jeans and stopped there, hesitant. I couldn’t breathe for a moment as I slowly circled her nipple with my thumb, and she opened her mouth to mine again.

“Uhh!” I grunted as breath escaped through my lips at the touch of her hand through the denim. I tried to silence myself for a couple of reasons—one, because I didn’t want to start whooping for joy and scare the shit out of her now that she had finally made a move, and two, because I was afraid any sound I made would encourage my hips to move and possibly impale her on my dick in the process.

God, I wanted to impale her. I could be Vlad the Impaler, and she could be my little Vamptria.

She moved her hand slowly, fingers straight, over the outside of my jeans as I tried to keep myself totally still. Hesitantly, she palmed the bulge that was desperately trying to escape from the tightly confined space.

“Show me?” she asked in a whisper.

Without hesitating, I covered her hand with mine, feeling the warmth of her palm pushing against my straining cock with more pressure. Slowly, I moved our hands together, sliding her curled fingers over the outside of my jeans from the base of my dick to the tip and wishing I had known she was going to do this earlier so I could have changed into sweats for the occasion.

“Is this okay?” her tiny voice asked.

“Oh f*ck, God, yes…” I babbled. My cock thought it had gone to dick heaven and was seriously threatening to bust some buttons. It was like it hadn’t had any hand on it but my own in over a year—oh wait, it hadn’t—and was trying to remind me that this was what it was supposed to feel like.

Tria seemed to be getting the hang of it, so I released her hand and ran it up her bare side. She shuddered a little as I diverted course and brushed softly over her tits again. I covered her lips with mine and moaned into her mouth as she moved a little faster and with more earnest.

Tria’s hand came up and palmed the head of my dick. Her fingers circled and twisted a little, creating tension throughout my body that began to focus below my navel. My thighs trembled slightly.

“Tria…baby…shit…”

“What?” she asked, her eyes going wide as her hand stopped moving. “Was that wrong?”

“No…God, f*ck no,” I muttered with only slight coherency. “It’s just…I’m gonna come if you keep going.”

“You are?” she whispered.

I tried not to laugh. I mean, what did she think was going to happen?

“Yeah, I am,” I said simply. I felt her hand leave my cock altogether and tried not to sigh too loudly. I was greatly determined not to look disappointed, but I didn’t get the chance. I felt her fingers at the top button of my jeans. I watched with growing surprise as she unbuttoned them all, allowing my cock to escape.

“I happen to know you own underwear,” she commented.

“I might need to do laundry.”

She didn’t say anything else about my fear of the laundromat. Instead, she reached out and touched the tip, causing the rather happy little bastard to jump a little. I watched as she wet her lips and wondered how long it might be before I felt her mouth on my cock. The thought was quickly rendered meaningless as I felt her hand grasp my hard flesh.

“God, yes…” I mumbled, and Tria smiled as she started to move her hand over me again, this time skin to skin.

Still trying to give her the lead, I didn’t buck my hips into her hand as much as I might have wanted to, but just let her feel me in her hand and move how she wanted. I wasn’t going to complain about technique, anyway. I was mostly just trying not to blow in under thirty seconds.

Tria tightened her grip a little, and my cock angled out a little farther from my body. She slid her fingers easily up and down the shaft, and I tried not to look smug when I noticed her fingers didn’t even come close to reaching around me.

I tilted my head back and groaned as her hand came up over the head of my cock before sliding back down. I ran my hand down her side and gripped the outside of her thigh.

“That’s it,” I told her. “A little faster.”

She obliged, which elicited another loud moan from me. I panted as my fingers gripped her thigh and I felt a familiar—yet far too long without another participant—tightening in my back and legs. My balls clenched and my legs shook as I cried out one more time before euphoric spasms followed the movement of her hand up my shaft, and I came in spurts all over her hand and yoga pants.