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Almost bare in front of him, my heart sinks at his question, but I can’t lie to myself and say I haven’t thought of it too.
“What do you mean?” I gasp, running my fingers the length of my legs, teasing as his eyes follow.
“Are we too broken for this, Fia?”
My heart stutters, then pounds even harder. What’s he getting at? “I don’t know,” I finally answer.
“I don’t want to give this up, but do you think the universe knew our agreement was meant to end so we could have time to heal?”
He wants time apart from me?
“I just don’t want to hurt you?” he whimpers, pain all over his voice.
“Then fight with me, fight for me, fight for us.”
When fire strikes his eyes, a shiver of longing ripples through my body.
“All of this might fuck me up. Meeting him fucked me up, baby. My head is spinning, my heart is all over, but I can’t be a reminder of your pain, baby. I won’t do it.”
Drawing my hand closer to my lace-covered center, I massage over the material.
“So replace it like you always do.”
In a trance, we let whatever is brewing swirl around us.
“Put your hand in your panties. I love when you touch yourself.” Mischief floats from his mouth, puncturing the dimple in his cheek.
I bite my lip and do just as he asks.
The spot on my panties dampens just as I hit my clit, moaning into my touch.
“Show me.” His thick voice deepens, and so do the tingles in my belly.
Lowering my pink lace panties, I lock myself in the vortex swirling around us.
My fingers trace back down my body, the pads against my skin catching fire the closer they get to the apex of my thighs. When I finally get back to my swollen, slick center, I spread myself with two fingers, wanting Jett to see every inch of me.
“God, you’re perfect.”
His composure weakens the closer I get, his tongue licking the dryness from his lips.
When I brush my clit with my fingertip, I buck, unable to contain the whine that echoes through his dimly lit bedroom.
“How does it feel?” he croaks.
My legs shake, widening farther as I touch myself more fully. The feeling of my fingers mimicking his the stronger his gaze works into my skin.
“Good, but you feel better.”
He growls in response, and the sound makes my thighs clench and my core ache. The pleasure of having his eyes on me takes precedence over anything else sitting in the room with us.
“Please,” I beg.
“What are you asking for, Sofia baby?”
“You,” I whine, my fingers rubbing circles that don’t compare to his. “I need you, Jett.”
Rising from the chair, Jett stalks toward me, and my pace quickens on my sopping wet center. Tingles slowly take over my body, knowing he’s closer, and heat rises from my toes all the way up my skin, until it stops.
