Page 85 of One for the Road
Truthfully, it wasn’t. Not because I didn’t want this – I did. But because I couldn’t dispel that little voice that whispered,You should feel embarrassed.
“Okay.” My mouth felt sticky.
Alistair leaned over, flicking the little button on the bottom of the Rosebud, and I jolted at the small whirring.
The sound alone was obscene.
Alistair groaned, at once appreciative and demanding.
I let it bolster me enough to bend my knees, inching my T-shirt higher until I knew he could see the dark cotton of my comfortable briefs. He licked his lips like he was staring at lace. “You should take them off.”
“Are you going to help?”
He shook his head, looking a little dazed. “Not a good idea.” He pushed himself back a little to give me room to slide them down my hips and thighs. They got caught around one ankle and I huffed slightly, certain there were women with superior abdominal strength who could make this look sexy. I was not one of them.
Taking mercy on me, he unhooked the cotton, balling them into his fist.
The Rosebud still whirred in my hand as I stretched out again. Thighs spread just enough that I knew he could see me. If I hadn’t already been sure, his drawn-out “Fuck” would have been enough to clue me in.
“I was right, Isla. Prettiest fucking cunt in existence.” The words were like sunlight poured directly into my bloodstream. Turning me golden as it raced through my veins. “I wish you could see this. Already soaking. I bet you can feel how wet you are, huh?”
“I think so.” I nodded. I was hot. Sticky enough I shouldbe embarrassed. Could feel it pooling in the creases of my thighs every time I moved.
“Not good enough.” Hetsked. “Dip your fingers inside, find out for yourself.”
God. His voice was like hypnosis, wiping every thought from my head other than this one command, because I moved without thought. Sliding my hand down my belly, over my thigh and down and—
I jerked. Gasped. A little kernel of pleasure tightening my gut. “Lower,” he ordered. And I did as I was told, until I felt the wetness gathering at my opening. “Tell me how it feels.”
“It – it’s hot.” My voice cracked. “Really wet.”
“Soft too, I bet. Do you feel like silk, Isla?”
“Yes,” I panted. Because it was true. I dipped my finger in a tiny bit more. No more than the first knuckle, but it was enough to make me moan. To marvel at the sensations it wrought. Where my other knuckle brushed the lower curve of my arse. Where my wrist brushed my inner thigh.
Alistair groaned like he’d performed the action. “Now pull it out, let me see.”
Pinned like a butterfly beneath his gaze, I extended my hand like an offering for him to study. And he did. Flipping my hand one way then the other.
“Fucking beautiful.” His voice was husky. “Now, rest your feet on my shoulders and make yourself come.”
I flushed but did what I was told.
Too far gone. He helped me lift my legs that had become dead weight, his eyes making unblinking contact with my clit.
I can’t believe I’m doing this.I can’t believe I’m doing this. I resisted the urge to snap my legs together. Two weeks ago, the thought of having my feet propped on AlistairMacabe’s shoulders while he talked me through an orgasm would have been right at the top of mynever going to happenlist, above immediate space travel.
My hand clutching the vibrator moved like it was independent from my body. Positioning it between my legs. Nervous breaths rattled from my chest. And it took a few twists of my wrists to align it with my clit, but once I did, my back arched.
“Oh my god,” I gasped, completely involuntarily.
“Fuck. There you go.”
I’d already been turned on. That must have been why I suddenly felt like I was being pulled apart, like my body belonged to a stranger. My toes dug into his shoulders. I should stop, might be hurting him, but I couldn’t. I moaned for long minutes as a wave of pleasure rose, stretching me thin. The sensation promising something spectacular without delivering.
After another minute, I started to draw my hand away.
“Don’t stop,” he groaned.
