His arm quickens, and my moans grow louder. I hear him groan in a deep husky breath. My body tightens, clenches and squeezes while my toes curl. The whole world rotates. I claw at the sheets with my free hand and ride the high out.
A few moments later, I flop against the bed, my elbow giving way to exhaustion and my staggered, heavy breathing. My stomach, breasts, thighs and ass are slick with sweat. God…that was incredible.
I want to feel it again.
Impulsively, my hand trails down my body and touches my tender mound. A moan escapes my lips, and I rub harder.
“Lily.” Lo’s voice fills my head. I close my eyes and slip my fingers inside.
Yes.
“Lily. Stop.”
My eyes snap open, but I keep my hand between my thighs. Gently, I prop myself up to look at the screen. In the little box to the left, I see myself sprawled on my bed in this position, but Lo only has a view of my belly button up, my legs drifting past the computer. But I suppose it’s obvious what I was doing.
I avoid his gaze. “Give me a second,” I tell him in a soft, guilty whisper. I lie down and disappear fully from his sight, the screen tilted towards my headboard, not the mattress. My fingers move once more. I need to feel it again.
“Fuck,” Lo curses. “Lily! I said stop.” I hear him. I do, but listening is so fucking hard. And a selfish, horrible part of me wants to kick the computer closed to drown out his demands. The pressure intensifies as I stand on another precipice, preparing to jump. Oh God…
“Lily, sit up so I can see you,” he orders.
I can’t. I rub faster and harder and longer. I need more. I’ve always needed more. I cry, my bony shoulders digging into the mattress, my body writhing. I want his hands to pick me up, to throw me into his chest, his muscles to meld into me. My eyes clench closed, and I imagine it all. That he’s hard against me—that he’s inside, waiting for me to come, whispering in my ear that everything is going to be okay if I just release while I’m filled with him.
Yes! I scream, my spine arching, my body prickling with a fire so hot that I can barely breathe. I hit it. Again. And then…I begin to come down. My open mouth closes, and my heartbeat slows, moving past the irregular, erratic pace and towards something I hate.
“Goddammit, Lily,” Lo snaps. “Sit the fuck up, now.”
My eyes widen in horror at what I’ve done, burning with guilty tears. Everything feels different this time. I pull my hand away and mechanically hoist my sluggish body to a sitting position. I hunch forward and hold a nearby throw blanket to my chest. “I didn’t mean…” I bite my fingernail and wipe an escaped tear. Shame crashes into me like a hundred pound wave. I can’t even look at the screen to meet Lo’s disappointed gaze.
I understand now. Why he wanted me to listen to him from the beginning. So we could avoid this. What’s even worse is beneath the festering shame and guilt, there’s a small part of me that wants to do it again. Maybe after we end the Skype conversation…no!
“Did that feel good?” he asks in a tense voice.
Which part? And why do I have to ruin everything? I stare pathetically at my hands. “Don’t look at me like that,” I whisper.
“You haven’t even looked at me yet,” he murmurs.
I inhale a strained breath and finally embrace the courage to meet his gaze. No judgment crosses his features. Instead, his amber eyes swim with empathy that I do not deserve. And I see the worry, as though I broke his heart, as though the extremity and horror of my compulsions just fully registered in his head.
“I’m sorry,” I choke. I rub my tears before they fall. “You don’t have to…” be with me. I am a monster.
“I love you,” he says. “We’re going to work on this together.” Translation: I’m not going anywhere.
“I want to do it again,” I admit in a small voice.
“I know.” He rubs his lips in thought.
“So…then can we do it together again…tonight?” He’s just mad I did it without him, surely.
“We’re done for today,” he says, each word like a mountain he has to climb.
“But I only came twice.” Fear pushes into my chest, making it difficult to breathe.
“And I was only going to let you come once,” he says. “I tried to exhaust you with foreplay, but it’s hard. I should have made you wait longer, and you should have listened to me afterwards. We’re going to get better at it though, but it’ll take time and practice.”