Page 123 of Wicked Angel
“Just… tell me to stop and I’ll stop. If there’s anything you don’t like. Or if you change your mind.”
“Okay.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“There’s no way this ends up making you hate me.”
“I already hate you.”
I kinda choked out a laugh. Stubborn girl.
“Then tell me what you want from this guy you hate,” I said roughly.
“I want to hear you get off on me.”
Well, that was pretty fucking clear. No shyness now.
“I can do that.” My voice was thick with lust as I stroked my cock. I was so turned on hearing about her turned on, I had no idea if this was gonna live up to her fantasies. Did she want it to be fast and furious? Or did she want it to last…?
I put the call on speaker, then set the phone down on a pillow next to me so I could free up my hands. As I ran my fingers up and down my shaft, my cock stood up tall, fucking grateful.
“Tell me what you hear right now.”
“You,” she said, her voice taking on that slightly self-conscious, shy note again, and it slayed me.
I was starting to understand her vibe, though. She knew what she wanted—major turn-on. She was just unsure how to ask for it. I wasn’t sure if she was nervous about it, afraid of rejection or judgment, or just unpracticed, but whatever it was, I couldn’t remember the last time I was this fucking hard. My entire body was into it, the ache spreading with every hungry throb through my veins.
But I tried to hold back, tried not to rush it.
Maybe I could help make her feel more comfortable about asking?
“What do you want to hear, Angel? Tell me.”
“You,” she breathed. “Making yourself come for me.”
I squeezed out the words as my heart thumped its hungry rhythm. “I’m going to.”
“And if you’re actually watching porn or something,” she added, “that is cheating. And you’re missing the point.”
“This isn’t a game,” I reminded her, “and I’m not cheating. I’m not missing the point. The point is you’re listening, and I’m doing this for you.”
She laughed a little. “I’m sure the orgasm won’t be a hardship on you.”
“The orgasm will be better because you’re here.”
“I’m not there.”
“But you’re listening.” I kept jacking myself slowly, fingers only, stroking my shaft, my cock standing stiff in the air… The simple knowledge that she could hear my breathing was ramping up my excitement, so fast. “And talking to me. Your voice is gonna make me come.”
She could probably hear it in my voice; I was falling apart already. I was breathing heavier even as I tried to relax.
“Is it?” she teased. “I didn’t know you liked my voice so much.”
Oh, I liked. Every time she spoke, my cock spasmed. I rode the waves of those spasms, my fingers following the rhythm. Building toward that climax she’d requested.
“I love your voice,” I told her, mine sounding drunk with arousal.
