Everything I Left Unsaid(20)

“Never mind,” I stammered. “Forget it. Forget everything.”

“Layla, stop. Don’t hang up.”

I didn’t hang up, but I didn’t say anything, either.

“Are you there?” he asked.

After a long moment, I said, “Yes.”

“Did that feel good, that stuff you were doing?”

“Yes.” It came out as a sob. My body felt combustible. My emotions impossibly wild. Totally out of control. I wanted to hit and scream and cry.

“It’s gonna go somewhere, baby. I promise. All those feelings, it’s going to get better and better. Let me…let me tell you what to do.”

“Are you…going to laugh at me?”

“Laugh? I’m the f*cking luckiest man on the planet tonight. The only thing I’m going to do is help you come.”

I flopped back down on the bed.

“Put the phone on the pillow beside your ear,” he said. “I want you to use two hands.”

“This sounds advanced,” I whispered.

His chuckle was sexy and warm, and I smiled at the sound of it.

“Brush the palm of your hand over your nipple.”

I did it and it felt good, but in a watered-down kind of way, considering what my body had been feeling a few seconds ago.

“That’s…not enough.”

“Are your nipples hard?”

“Very.”

“I want you to pinch them.”

“Pinch?”

“Good pain, trust me, baby.”

I pinched my nipples. Hard and then harder until I felt the strange pleasure-pain of it ricochet in my body. I rolled them slightly between my fingers until the lust and heat and desire roared back through me.

A choked gasp slipped out of me.

“There we go. You want to come?”

“God. Yes.”

“Roll over on your stomach.”

I did, fumbling slightly with the phone, until I was on my belly and could still hear him.

“Grind your * against the mattress. It’ll make your clit—”

He didn’t have to finish his instructions before I was doing it, so ready to have this happen. To have all of this panicky, edgy sensation tearing through me—do something. Go somewhere.

“Oh God,” I muttered, lifting myself up on my palms slightly to get the pressure exactly right between my legs. Back and forth. Up and down. It was all the right pressure without hurting.

“You got it?”

“Yes, God…I want…”

“More?”

“Please.”

“Put your two fingers in your mouth, the ones you had buried in your *.”

I did what he asked. I could feel my fingers shaking against my lips.

“You can taste yourself, can’t you?” he asked. “Salty and earthy. Best f*cking taste in the world.”

It was different. And strange. Tangy.

“Now put them back between your legs.”

“Inside?”

“Inside. But go slow.”

I lifted my hips and slipped my fingers under my panties again. I bypassed my clit, traced the edges of my lips, until I found the entrance of my body. Wet. Waiting.

“One finger at a time,” he said. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

I laughed.

“What?”

“I…want it so much it seems impossible to hurt myself, you know?”

“Like you could do anything to yourself right now and it would feel good?”

“Something…something like that.”

“Push that finger inside,” he said, his voice low and dark, and I closed my eyes and did what he told me to do.

But then I couldn’t get the grinding pressure right against my clit so I used my other hand, to push against my vulva, mashing my clit.

“Ahh!” I cried. “Ahhh, f*ck. Oh God.”

“Tell me.”

I braced my forehead against the mattress. “There’s some kind of weird pulsing thing happening on the bottom of my foot,” I told him, not even caring how ridiculous I sounded. “And my nipples…oh God, they’re smashed against my quilt and it’s rough. It’s so rough. And my fingers…”

“Yeah?”

“My fingers feel so good in my body. So good.”

“Go, baby, make yourself come.”

It took a while, a few minutes anyway, and I thought at one point I might just give up or ask him what was wrong with me, but then I slipped my fingers down to directly touch my clitoris and everything changed. All of it.

Bold, I squeezed it between my fingers and there was an explosion behind my clit, behind my eyes. In my head. Every muscle along my back spasmed and jerked and I had to pull my fingers away because it hurt again, but I kept grinding myself against the mattress and the explosion went on and on.

Until it faded away, leaving me sweating and panting and utterly changed.

I lifted my head from where I’d buried it and looked around for the phone, which I’d knocked from the pillow to the edge of the mattress.

Now what? I thought, trying to catch my breath. I had no idea how long that took. What he might have heard.

A hot wave of mortification practically lifted my skin right off my body. I was light-headed with shock at what I’d done. At how far that had gone.