I’m breathing so hard.
With a free hand, I wiggle free of the gown, pushing it down to my waist, freeing my body. I hope he likes what he sees. The cold air circulating from the fan causes my nipples to bead. I imagine it’s his hands, his calloused fingers brushing over them, and it tugs a moan from the middle of my throat.
“Oh god,” I gasp, bringing his mysterious face in the front of my mind, remembering every defined line when I met him. Strong jaws, high cheekbones, eyes the color of honey mixed in cinnamon, and there’s this uncertainty I saw when I stared at him. He has an innocence about him I can’t put my finger on.
I’m not saying he isn’t the kind of man I need to stay away from; I know he is.
But I don’t think I can help it.
My thumb presses the button on the vibrator in my hand, and I rub it over my tight nipples, gasping from the sensations. I’ve always been sensitive. I can bring myself to climax just by tugging on them. I need more than that tonight. I need to see if this relieves the pressure in my head, and maybe the need for Mr. Mysterious will fade.
I turn my head to the right and stare into the corner, hoping to see an outline of him, but it’s only darkness with the hint of the moon peeking between the curtains. I bite my lip as I glide the silicone shaft down my body and insert it between legs. “Yes,” I hiss, letting my eyes roll to the back of my head.
Another grunt coming from the corner has me rocking my hips back and forth, needing more friction. I want the vibrator deeper, filling me, stretching me, but it isn’t big enough. I can’t stop moaning. I’m drowning out any sounds that are coming from the corner, if there are any, and I turn up the vibration level.
“Oh god!” I cry out, spreading my arm to grip the edge of the bed. My thighs tremble, and there is a molten hot swirl in my lower belly. “I’m going to come,” I announce to the fantasy and snatch the pillow from the left side of me and smash it against my face to mutter my sounds.
Liquid drips down my thighs as I orgasm, shaking uncontrollably. I think of Tongue, the stranger in my dreams, the haunting I hope is in the shadows, and my muscles spasm again.
The vibrations become too much against my sensitive pussy, so I reach between my legs and turn it off. I throw the pillow off my face and a flash of his face hovers over me in my drunken, orgasmic state. I freeze, staring into the eyes that have been embedded into the marrow of my bones in such a short amount of time.
He’s beautiful.
I gasp, holding my breath as I hurry to turn on the light to see if it’s really him. I stretch and pull the string of the lamp. With a click, the bulb flashes on, and I smile to myself when I realize I’m finally going to get to see him.
Forgetting that he’s in my house watching me without being allowed in. Semantics. We can work those issues out later.
“I’ve been thinking about you so much—” But when I turn around to talk to him, he’s gone. “Lately,” I finish my thought. I slide my arms through the string of the nightgown and tug the hem to my knees, then frantically straighten my hair and tuck it behind my ears. “Hello?” I call out to my dark apartment, but all I hear is the echo of my voice.
There is no way I imagined all of that, is there? I throw my legs over the edge of the bed, forgetting the vibrator between my legs. It falls on the floor, leaving me empty and feeling a bit awkward when it thuds loudly, shining wet against the hardwood.
“Thank God I live alone so no one can witness this,” I mumble, grabbing a tissue from the purple container and then pick up the vibrator off the floor and carry it to the bathroom. I’ll clean it later. I swear, he was here. I’m not losing my damn mind.
I take the robe from the hook on the back of the door and wrap it around my shoulders, gliding my arms through the holes before securing it around my waist. “Are you still here?” I call out, staring