Alcohol You Later (2)

“Actually,” he says, and my phone vibrates with a notification from him. “Nothing could be truer.” In this one, his hand is curled around the thick flesh.

I gasp. “Nick.”

“I need to see you,” he all but begs as the FaceTime request appears on my screen. I press the green button and I’m greeted with the sight of his fist pumping up and down his erection. His thumb is toying with the larger ball at the underside of the head, the one I love to tease with my tongue and teeth.

With the phone gripped in my left hand and my eyes locked on the screen, I trail my fingers along my stomach, beneath the elastic of my panties. When my fingers brush over the sensitive nerves throbbing in my clit, I damn near leap from the bed.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Nick groans as I draw a shaky breath. “I wanna see. Don’t hide from me.”

I hesitate, chewing on my lower lip while still stroking myself beneath the covers.

“Come on…” His familiar face appears on the screen, burning with desire. Those hooded emerald eyes of his implore me. “Don’t play coy, pretty girl. Show me how you touch yourself.”

“That’s it,” he encourages as I prop the phone against the lamp on my bedside table so it’s angled to where he can see the length of my body. I throw my comforter to the side. “Now lose the shirt.”

“Bossy much?” My voice is sandpaper, lacking any semblance of ire.

Nick tosses in a please to placate me, and I shed my tank in one fluid motion, nearly ripping an earring out in my haste.

His answering moan is deep and low emanating from the back of his throat. “Hottest fucking tits I’ve ever seen.”

I preen beneath his praise, mewling and writhing as he trails a hand along the ridges of his chest and abdomen.

“Ray?”

“Yeah?” I pant.

“Lick your fingers, beautiful.”

My nipples pebble at his request, but I narrow my eyes because I know the banter turns him on.

“Will you lick the pads of your thumb and index finger for me, please?”

Burning to jump ahead to the next step, I make a show of tonguing the digits. But trust me when I say it requires every ounce of restraint I possess to refrain from touching myself without permission, as I eagerly await his next instruction.

“That’s it. Get ‘em nice and wet… Now tweak your nipples and imagine it’s my tongue swirling over those pretty pink buds.”

A flush works its way through my body as I become lost in sensation. In the sound of his voice. In knowing this mammoth of a man gets off on watching me. Reality fades away. I can practically feel his big strong hands. Taste the salt of his skin. Smell the faint stench of pot that always lingers on his clothes and in his hair.

“Pinch and tug on that jewelry,” he orders. “Pretend it’s my teeth…yeah, baby…” His breaths start coming harder and faster. “Can you feel my tongue flicking back and forth over the metal? My teeth grazing your tender flesh.”

“Oh, fuck,” I moan, pulling on my nipple piercing while pumping two fingers of the other hand in and out of my soaked pussy.

I loll my head to the side, stealing a glance at his fingers wrapped firmly around the head of his engorged cock. It looks painfully swollen, red, and clearly ready to blow. But Nicholas is a generous lover, even during our mutual masturbation sessions, always staving off his own release until I find mine.

“I’m coming,” I scream, pumping my fingers in and out, increasing speed at his encouragement while rotating the pad of my thumb over my clit. My head drops back in ecstasy as I ride out every last wave of pleasure, my body vibrating through each surge until physically, I’m sated.

And yet I find myself left in a perplexing state of sheer bliss and crushing disappointment over the realization that I’m still here…in my bed…and very alone.

“Fuck,” he growls, furiously pumping his fist as he chases his own release. He tips his head back and I watch, enthralled by the way his abs contract as he works himself over. “I…”—his voice stutters—“I wish you were here, dude.”

“Me too,” I whisper.

“Wanna come all over those pretty tits.”

I slide my hands back up my belly, to my breasts, tugging on the curved rings through each nipple. “Yes, Nick.”

“Fuck! Raven!” He shouts, his hot release spilling onto his rock-hard abs.

A beat of silence hangs over us as we work to get our breathing under control.

“I really do wish you were here, you know?” He grins. “And not just for this.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he answers with a yawn. “I miss falling asleep with you in my arms.”

“I’m sure you won’t have to look too hard to find a willing pair to hold you tomorrow night.”

He snorts. “It’s not like that with them.”

“Not like what?” I press.

He shrugs, giving his answer more thought than I expect. “When I’m done with them, I’m done, you know?”

“No,” I say. “I don’t.” I hope I don’t sound as desperate as I feel, but I’m grasping for any indication that I’m not pining away for a man who may never want me the way I crave him.