Take (Need #2)(35)

I despise the fact that it was his name I yelled out.

Thank God the house was empty.

My phone vibrates on my bed. I try to ignore it, stripping out of my clothes so I can start changing.

But getting naked only makes it worse. Nowadays, I can’t take off a single stitch of clothing without immediately imagining his hands on me.

Son of a bitch.

I grab my phone off my bed, frustrated that I’m such a slave to my impulses.

No stopping this. I tell myself I won’t do more than look. I won’t respond, it’ll be just this.

It’s a picture of his lower abs. That motherf*cking V. He’s wearing light jeans, unbuttoned, and his hand is holding them open to better show off his abs.

The leather cuff is on his wrist, but it doesn’t matter. I know what’s beneath it now.

Want. Christ, how am I supposed to get f*cking past this level of desire?

He enrages me to no end.

My legs weak, I walk over to my bed. I can’t even think of putting on my costume. I want to send him a picture, tease him back, but I can’t do that either.

The beat of my heart is so powerful through my body that it worries me. Want. Want. Want.

I sit on my bed, shaking.

My inner walls throb, my clit aching, in desperate need of attention.

I want his tongue all over my clit again, his lips sucking on it hard.

What’s wrong with me today? Why is it worse than before?

But I know why. This madness has been building for weeks.

No, lies. This has been building for years.

How am I going to resist him tonight of all nights when the insanity is stronger than ever?

Trembling, miserable, I pick up my phone. I can barely even type. Don’t come to the party tonight. Please.

There’s no waiting for his response. This pain has turned me into an animal. There’s only one thought. I need to come again, and my fingers won’t be enough this time.

I reach under my bed and pull out the case I bought to keep my vibrator in. I purchased it weeks ago, needing something thicker than my fingers to f*ck myself with.

Because I can’t stop wanting Brayden’s thick cock pounding inside me.

My phone vibrates on my bed; I continue to ignore it, leaning back, spreading my trembling thighs.

My * lips are swollen and wet enough that I feel them slowly part with the movement.

Another notification from my phone.

I play with my hard nipple, pinching it, and slide the head of my silicone dildo across my clit.

My head falls back and my hips arch, my body hungry for that length inside me.

I slide it up and down, letting my juices cover it.

My phone starts ringing.

A small moan leaves me, and my * ripples. I know who it is without looking. I can almost feel him on the other line.

Always feeling him. Always sensing him.

God, I want him.

I know where this is heading as I reach for my phone—don’t care. Fucking him is impossible. Having phone sex with him will only make things worse in the long run.

My thumb swipes across the screen and I accept the call. At the same time, I turn the vibrator on, pressing it back to my clit.

“Kira—” Brayden’s sharp intake of breath tells me he picked up on the sound of my vibrator.

Just the sound of that breath makes goose bumps break out all over me.

“Tell me to come over,” he demands in a hoarse voice.

I moan. “No. This is all you’re getting.” The sound of my own voice surprises me.

“Oh really?” An utterly masculine chuckle leaves him. I can hear the cockiness in it, and I want to be mad at him for it.

Instead, all I want to do is ride his f*cking beautiful face. Come all over his gorgeous lips.

Cover him in my scent so that if any other girl tries to go near his mouth, she’ll know he’s taken.

“This is all I’m getting? Huh, Kira?” He purposely moans my name, drawing the sound out. “Is that why you’re f*cking yourself with that little bullet vibrator while imagining it’s me?”

His voice. Lord help me, I’m hooked.

“It’s not a bullet.” I slide the tip inside me, slowly, letting myself feel how it parts me open.

Brayden falls silent, breathing harshly in my ear.

I slip the vibrator in deeper.

“Kira, are you . . . are you f*cking yourself with a dildo right now?”

I bite my lip, but it’s not enough to hold back my whimper. “Yes.”

The sound he makes is indescribable. I don’t know if it’s a grunt or a growl, or maybe an angry combination of both. All I know is that he’s not pleased.

“Why?” I ask. “Jealous?”

“How big is it?” he grits out.

Still biting my lip, I let out a little giggle and rock against the head my dildo, teasing myself. “Almost as big as you.”

That sound again. Rough. Horny. Aggravated.

“What?” I moan out the word purposely, pushing the vibrator halfway in. “You don’t like knowing I’m f*cking myself?”

He hums; another frustration-filled sound. “My dick is the only dick that belongs inside you.”

That statement shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does, but it’s too f*cking delicious to resist. His dick. My dick. The only one with the right to pound into me. The only cock to spurt in me.