Page 53 of Carnal Wagers

I scoffed. “That would be the camera, sweetheart. You set it up for prime viewing.”

“That would be your thought process, mari chéri,” she said with added insistence. “How do you know I want to watch?”

“So you’re saying, if I do this”—I tugged my pants zipper down—“you won’t be watching?”

“What exactly is there to see?”

“Oh, síbhean, quite a bit.”

I pulled out my cock, fisting it from root to tip, my gaze riveted on that camera. I stroked myself slowly, my shaft hardening with each pass. Each of her heavy breaths echoed in my ears. She wasn’t as unaffected as she pretended, and that gave me a stronger rush than I’d felt all week.

“Do you like it?” I spread a drop of precum over the bulbous head of my cock and grasped control back from her, one throaty inhale at a time. I pumped myself to the sound of her voice, to the memory of her smell, to all the frustrating things she said. “Imagine what I could do to you with it. I bet that cunt of yours would take my cock so well with one thrust. I bet I’d have you writhing in seconds. This is what you want, after all.”

“Is it?”

It was my turn to chuckle, hoarse and deep. I hadn’t been this hard, this quickly, in a long time, and hell if I wasn’t going to drive her as crazy as she was driving me.

“I’d punish you with it, make you bend to my will, and show you exactly what it means to be at my mercy. All the while, you’d beg for more.” I lowered the register of my voice. “But I wouldn’t give it to you.”

Her snicker skipped.

“You’re assuming I’d give in. That would be too easy.”

She was trying to act tough, but she wasn’t in charge here. Her voice hitched. Her breath caught, short and quick, and her clothing rustled across the phone line. I’d bet good money her hand was in her panties, fingers vigorously pumping in and out of her tight pussy the way I imagined my dick was. This twisted game of hers was mine now. She might have had the visual, but I had the power.

“How do your little fingers feel compared to all of this?” I gripped my shaft, all the thick, long inches fully displayed for her viewing pleasure.

“I’m not—”

“Yes, you are.”

She whimpered, and I contained my smirk.

“You’re imagining straddling my thighs. My cock pressed against your lips. My mouth on your right breast, sucking on your nipple until I bite it and tug.”

She muffled a moan.

“Are you pinching your nipples?” She didn’t answer. “Are you?”

“Yes.” She panted.

“That’s a good woman. Imagine my mouth on your nipple, my teeth nipping at it, as my hand slips down your belly.”

“But you’re not going fast enough. You’re not where I want you, so I drag your hand exactly where I want it. Between my thighs, over my clit, and inside me.” She sucked in wanton breaths. This mischievous little fairy was acting it all out. “Your fingers replace mine, where I’m wet, smooth, and warm. Just waiting for your cock to fill me.”

“But I don’t fill you,” I taunted. “I stroke your slit, spread your wetness, tease your clit, pinch it until you’re on the verge of stars, yet I never let you reach that peak.”

“No.”

“Yes. You’re wanting, shaking, begging me to fill you.” I spread more precum down my shaft and pumped myself harder to her breathy gasps and purrs. The base of my spine tingled. “You need me. Say it.”

“No.”

“I pull away.”

“No, no, you absolutely do not,” she rasped, her accent stronger.

“Feel that sting? That slap to your clit was your only warning. Don’t make me give you another.”