threat scares the starch out of me, the possession in his voice does funny things to my insides, and there’s a lust in it that makes me wonder what dirty things he’d do to me if he was there. My sex aches at the thought. The reaction makes no sense, but there it is.
“Pull your pants down,” Spider orders now. “Panties too.”
The commands jerk me back into the moment. “What? Why?”
“Because I told you to,” he growls.
Lost as to what he could be up to, I lift my hips and jerk my pants down to my knees, furious. The cloth chafes against my backside, the sting making me regret my anger and serving to remind me of the price of disobeying him.
“Are they down?”
“Yes,” I answer bitterly, easing my rear back onto the mattress.
“Good girl. Now push your shirt up until your tits spill out and spread your legs.”
“Why? It’s not like you can see me.”
“I have a good imagination. This is how phone sex works.”
Phone sex! My cheeks burn. The man has zero shame.
Yesterday, Monica had brought skimpy, low-rise jeans and a white off-the-shoulder style top, cut high above the midriff. Spider had obviously ordered them. There’d been no bra, so when I force myself to push my shirt up above my chest, my breasts bounce free. If he was standing in front of me, he’d have seen my breasts in all their exposed glory, my sex bared for his view. The cuts he left on my chest have healed, but he’d have seen scars left behind, his spider’s web-shaped brand tattooed there for eternity. The thought makes me instantly wet.
“Done,” I tell him. “Where are you going with this?”
He hums in his throat. “You’re so fucking innocent.”
“Spider.”
“Spread your legs.”
Oh, Lord. He isn’t there, and yet shame and anxiety bolts through me as hotly as if he’s right in front of me, drinking in the sight of me.
I don’t move. The silence he hears on the other end of the call must make him realize this, judging by his next words.
“Unless you want that spanking when I get back, spread your legs. Show me your gorgeous pussy.”
That he’s speaking to me as if he really is there, able to see me following his commands, doesn’t make it easier to tamp down my shame. The desire that roughens his voice makes it easy to imagine his eyes on me.
I spread my legs, my face burning at my nakedness. My nipples peak, begging to be sucked, my core throbbing until it hurts, and I have to force myself not to stroke my wetness right there.
Another low, hungry hum. “So fucking beautiful. I can see how wet you are for me.”
The urge to hide myself from his imagined view is so strong that I close my legs sharply and start to roll onto my side. “I can’t do this. I—”
“You better not have closed your legs, Wildcat.”
Once more, I sigh and let my knees fall open. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” I grumble.
There’s a creak over the line that makes me think he’s shifted on a bed. The sound makes me wonder where he is and what he’s been doing. The thought of who’s been in that bed with him while I’m not there makes my stomach drop.
“Good. Let me see you play with yourself.”
The command shouldn’t surprise me, but it sends a jolt through me nonetheless.
“Spider…” His name comes out throaty and shaking.
“Do as I tell you.” His voice is raw with need.
Over the weeks I’ve been with Spider, pulled deeper into a world so different from the one in which I’d lived most of my life, it had finally started to become easier to be exposed to him like this without feeling such overwhelming shame as I’d felt that first day at The Devil’s Den. Now, however, a wave of shame washes over me at the thought of doing something that would earn me a month in isolation if anyone found out. The humiliation is hot and intense, and the mounting ache in my core only makes it worse.
I close my eyes, heart thumping heavily in my chest. “I… I don’t… I’ve never… Um.”
He gives a soft laugh. “I gather those twisted fucks at your Colony would give you a flogging for this.”
The thought makes my throat tighten. Anger roughens his voice, and I know I have to be imagining the protectiveness I hear in it. I nod, realizing after that he can’t see it.