He likely doesn’t think about me as sexual in any way.
But I am. I’m doing this, and it feels wild and free and uninhibited.
I bite back a moan as the orgasm builds anew. I have to keep myself from rubbing my clit too hard so I don’t come immediately.
It takes willpower I didn’t know I have. I’ve never built myself up this way before. I want to shake and bounce but have to satisfy myself with pumping my hips.
Low moans are trying to come out of my mouth, and I keep biting them back. When I’m right on the edge, I pull back again. I stand still for a minute and let the throbbing need settle into a deep pressure, barely recognizing the primitive physicality of my body at the moment.
Then I bend over and brace myself and start fucking myself with my hand again. This time I don’t hold back. I do it as hard as I can. I love the raw feel of it. The sloppy sound of it beneath the shower spray. My skin is as hot as fire as my vision starts to cloud over.
I’m so close. I’m almost there. The sensations are going to explode with an intensity I rarely experience in my daily no-nonsense masturbation sessions.
I feel a cry of release choking in my throat, and I have to fight to keep it there. I’m spasming like crazy around my fingers as the climax finally erupts. My whole body shakes clumsily as the pleasure crashes through me. I bite my lip, but a hoarse groan of naked release sneaks out anyway.
There’s no way I can help it. My body is out of my control.
The orgasm lasts longer than I would have expected, and I keep stroking myself thoroughly until the spasms finally work themselves out.
I lean against the shower wall, gasping helplessly and enjoying the softening of my body and the lingering buzz of pleasure.
I can’t believe I just did that. Brought myself to a hard, wild orgasm while Damian was just on the other side of the door.
Thank God he’s distracted by the audiobook. I think I was pretty quiet in here, but I was also pretty far gone, so who knows what he would have heard otherwise.
I’m embarrassed and pleased with myself at the same time. It’s a very strange feeling.
I stay in the shower until I’ve caught my breath and cooled down. My body is still humming with the pleasure I gave it, and I’m more relaxed than normal, but those things Damian won’t be able to see.
I turn off the shower, dry off, put on my pretty blue nightgown, and brush my teeth before I leave the bathroom. I leave the light on and the door cracked. If Damian prefers total darkness, he’s just going to have to deal with it tonight.
Damian hasn’t moved. He’s still lying on the same side of the bed, his eyes closed, listening to his book. He opens his eyes as I approach and pulls down an earbud. “Hey. Good shower?”
I blush, but I firmly tell myself it’s an idle question. The same thing anyone might ask. “Yeah. You were right. The water pressure is really good.”
Nodding, he takes off his earbuds and puts them on his phone on the nightstand.
“You can keep listening to that,” I tell him, getting into the other side of the bed.
“Nah. I’ve had enough of it for a while. You want to watch TV or something?”
“Not really. Unless you want to. I mean, it won’t bother me, but I’m pretty tired.”
“Okay. Me too.” He waits until I’m settled under the covers, and then he turns off the lamp on his nightstand, causing the room to fall into darkness.
There’s plenty of room on the bed. I’m nowhere near to touching Damian. But I can still hear him breathe. Feel the mattress shift with his small movements.
I stretch out my still-buzzing body and exhale in satisfaction. It comes out too long. Too loud.
“You okay?” Damian asks out of the darkness.
“Yes. Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. Just checking.”
“I’m fine. Good. Tired.”
“That’s good then.”
“Yes. It’s good.” Damn, this is the most ridiculous conversation in the history of the world, and it’s almost certainly my own fault. “Have you ever slept with your clients before?”
Okay. I just made things a thousand times worse.
There’s a slight pause before Damian says, “I told you I had.” He speaks slowly. Almost carefully. “Why? Are you—?”