Kindle, and me with one of my small leather-bound books from my study.
Her legs shift beneath the covers every so often, and at first, I think it’s because she’s uncomfortable, sore from her barre class. Having taken that first one with her, I know how many fucking squats she did this morning. But as I listen closely, the room completely silent, not even the air conditioner blowing at the moment, I can hear every minute sound she makes. Every time she swallows, every time her feet twitch under the sheet… and I can tell she’s trying to control her breathing but is failing.
Her legs shift again, and as I look at where her knees are beneath the covers, turning only my eyes so she doesn’t know I’m watching, I see she rubs her thighs together, and her breath catches just slightly.
She’s trying to hide that she’s turned on as she continues to read from her little white Kindle, and God how I want to rip it out of her hand and make love to her, to show her she doesn’t need to hide anything from me, to not feel any sort of shame for the emotions and physical reactions she feels. But at the same time, I don’t know if she’s ready. Even if she has dropped hint after hint over the past few days that she wants me, I’m trying to be strong for the both of us.
But I don’t know if even I’m strong enough to withstand my sweet goddess, lying so close to me, growing wetter and more aroused the longer she reads.
She startles me out of my thoughts when suddenly she slams her Kindle on the mattress between us. Before I can ask her what’s wrong, she twists away from me, reaching for something on her side table.
No, not on it.
In it.
As she pulls open the drawer and takes out a makeup bag.
Oh fuck.
I hear her voice inside my mind, picturing her as she sat on the couch in my study, telling me all her secrets. “I got myself a little vibrator, the one I now keep in a makeup bag in my nightstand drawer.”
Fuck.
She pulls out the silver bullet, the clear cord wrapped around and around the attached remote neatly.
She tosses the bag onto the nightstand, unwraps the bullet, and refuses to look at me, even when I shut my book and place it on my own side table along with her Kindle. She clicks the button on the black remote, and the silver bullet comes to life on the end of the cord, my cock instantly going rigid at the sound, immediately recalling the mental snapshot I took the last time I heard it.
Still purposefully ignoring me next to her, she reaches both arms beneath the sheets, and her knees come up and spread, and my heart picks up its pace, because I know what it looks like right now under those covers. I know, because I saw her in this exact position, only on top of her comforter in the guest room.
But she’s not alone in her guest room any longer. She’s right next to me, in my bed, her body hidden, but all I’d have to do is reach over and I’d feel what she’s doing.
I watch as she closes her eyes, and I can tell the moment the vibrator hits her clit, because her lips part and her head presses roughly into the pillow. Her delicate brows furrow, and soon, her face is pinched in concentration, and I know that desperation and frustration will quickly follow.
“Alexa, turn master light off and lamp two on,” I order, and the little double-ding sounds as the lighting in the room dims thanks to my smart-plugs connected to my voice-activated system. I pull up my side of the covers and slide to my left, closer to her, turning on my side to face her and sitting up on my left elbow. Lifting my right hand, I trace my middle fingertip oh-so-gently from the middle of her forehead, over her puckered brow, down over the bridge of her straight nose, past her lips as I pull the bottom one down, watching it snap back into place as I glide along her jawline.
Her face starts to relax as I continue to just gently run my fingertip along her perfectly feminine features, and I whisper, “That’s a good girl, goddess. Just relax. If you go into pleasuring yourself with the immediate thought that it’s not going to work,