Page 51 of Captive Bride: Armani
“I don’t know.” Did I ever fantasize about anything but leaving this damn house?
Armani trails his fingers down the buttons of my shirt, then back up, running over them one by one. He unfastens the top two and brushes the edges of the fabric apart, his fingers whispering against my flushed skin.
“I used to wonder…what it would be like if…if…” But I can’t say it.
He lets a few more buttons free. Cool air ghosts over my breasts, my nipples pebbling against the fabric of my simple white bra.
“If?” he prods.
Squirming a little, I try to compose myself but can’t. He works me up so fast and so completely. Rubbing my thumb in little circles around his cock, I lean into his touch as he slides a hand over my breast and cups it.
“Well, what it would be like if…if a guy walked in while I was in the middle of, you know…touching myself.”
Armani groans. “Hell yes.”
Gently, he pushes me back onto my bed. The mattress is old and it squeaks as my body pushes against it. Holding back a laugh, I try to stop the momentum and quiet the elderly springs before someone hears down the hall.
“I just walked in on you, but I don’t see anything,” he says. “Maybe I should leave.”
“But I’ve been waiting for you,” I protest.
“Then be a good girl and give me a show.”
My heart pounds as I consider going through with this. Someone could walk in. But I have my protector right here. And there’s nothing I want more in this moment than Armani.
With a shuddering breath, I pull down the side zipper on my skirt and wiggle out of it. Then I slip down a bra strap and pull the cup over to reveal my breast. The fabric of my unbuttoned blouse flutters around my ribs as I let it slide off.
Settling back against the pillows, I close my eyes and bite my bottom lip, willing myself to sink into the old, dark fantasy. I’m in my room alone. It’s nighttime, and the hot boy from school I’ve been crushing on pushes up my bedroom window and then slips over the ledge. He doesn’t know that I’ve been dreaming about him with my hand between my legs. I let out a sigh.
Smoothing my hand down my abdomen, I slip my fingers under the waistband of my panties and find my clit. Armani’s breath quickens but I can’t open my eyes and look at him or I’ll lose my nerve. My hearing is heightened to listen for the sound of anyone coming down the hallway outside my door, but all I hear is the clatter of dishes from the kitchen and the occasional shout from one of my brothers outside. They’re still playing their game. We have time.
I dip a finger into my wetness and drag it up and down my slit, sighing even more deeply.
“Good girl,” Armani croons.
I hear the sound of his zipper and the rustle of fabric.
Sinking into the fantasy, I play with my exposed nipple as I swirl my fingers around my clit, breathless little moans slipping from my lips. But I’m too far gone to care.
“What would you do to the boy when he entered your room?”
“Suck him off while I come.” The words pop out without hesitation.
Armani pulls me to the edge of the bed so my head hangs off upside down. Opening my eyes, I look up at him, seeing the fat tip of his cock hovering over my lips. I open my mouth and he slides in. It takes a moment to get adjusted to the position, but it becomes easy once he starts to move. Relaxing my throat to allow him to thrust at his pleasure, I play with myself until the ache becomes almost unbearable. Then I plunge a finger inside, cupping both hands tightly over my pussy, my hips coming off the bed with each of my own desperate thrusts.
“Is this what you wanted?” he says, his voice a low growl. “To suck cock while you get yourself off, hoping you don’t get caught?”
I moan softly around his dick, sparks of electricity going off like fireworks at my core.
“Such a good girl. So quiet. Sucking me offso good,” he grunts between each thrust, getting me off more and more by the second. “Is my good girl gonna swallow all my cum?”
That’s it. I’m fucking done. His words send me right over the edge. I climax with a hard shiver, and Armani goes with it, thrusting faster in and out of my mouth, rocking the bed with a quiet eek, eek, eek. I’m about to panic at the sound when his release shoots down the back of my throat. His throaty grunt is quiet, intimate, just for the two of us. I swallow every last drop.
As soon as we’re done, the panic returns. Flipping onto my stomach, I grab my skirt off the floor and hurry off the bed. My shirt is slightly wrinkled. Damn silk! I smooth it, only to realize my bun has come free and my hair is hanging in a lopsided mess over my left ear.
“Shit!”
Armani zips up, looking posh and perfect. Of course he does. Asshole. He takes my shoulders and rubs gently, catching my attention. “Just breathe. You look great.”
