Page 23 of Sexting His Son's Ex
So much more.
Me: “Send me another video. This time, I want the view of you fucking your fingers.”
Her: “Too bad they aren’t your fingers. I have a feeling I’d be able to come faster than I ever have.”
I growl, wishing I could hear her voice, see her face, hold her close, everything, anything. I’d focus on her pleasure only, wanting her to shout until her voice was hoarse from screaming my name.
A man can dream, but a man like me?
I always make all of my dreams come true.
7
JOVIE
Him:“One day, I’ll have you in my bed.”
Me: “Or maybe you’ll be in mine.”
Him: “Whatever you want. Whenever you want. I’ll be there.”
Me: “I’m fucking myself now just like you asked. Do you want to know a secret, Mr. Smith?”
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
This isn’t like me. I don’t send videos of myself to anyone. Luca never even got a half-naked picture of me in the few months we dated no matter how many times he asked. I didn’t care to listen to Luca, but Mr. Salvati?
I’ll do whatever he says, whatever he wants, whenever he needs.
It’s easy to listen to him. I want to please him more than any other person. Santino has made me feel bold, like I can do anything. He gives me power. I’m not sure he knows that just speaking to him affects me and I know it has to be like that for everyone else who comes across him too. His energy is easily felt.
Even through the phone, I can almost hear the rasp and depth of his commanding voice demanding to see me finger fuck myself.
I have to be careful when I’m recording. He can’t see my face, and he can’t hear my voice, or he will know it’s me.
I’m not ready for him to know that kind of secret.
The air conditioning kicks on, sending a cool breeze through my room and over my skin that Santino has heated.
Him: “You can tell me your secret after I’ve made you come, then if you still want to tell me, you can. Don’t ever offer your secrets in the height of pleasure. Do you understand?”
I close my eyes, almost able to hear the crisp edge to his tone as he asks me that. Shivers tremble my body in anticipation, hoping that one day, I’ll be able to hear the words in person.
Me: “Yes, sir.”
Him: “Mmm, I like that. You should make it habit.”
Me: “Wouldn’t that be making you my habit?”
Him: “From this moment on, whoever the hell you are, you’re mine until I say otherwise.”
I don’t immediately text him back. I’m stuck rereading what he said.
You’re mine until I say otherwise.
I bury my face in my pillow and scream, wanting to kick my feet with excitement.
And then I remember, I belong to no one. I, personally, don’t belong to him. This imaginary person who is hiding behind aphone belongs to him. When he finds out, and I know one day he will, I know it won’t be smiles and kisses.
