The sound of Hayes finding pleasure only elevates what I’m feeling inside. I close my eyes again, and picture what it would be like to have him here with me, to feel his thick fingers sliding in and out of my center. I imagine what it would be like to have his lips on my skin—nibbling at my neck, huffing in my ear, sending goosebumps down my arms and my legs.
My pussy clenches around my fingers, and I know I’m close.
“Hayes,” I gasp.
“Fuck me. Yeah, baby?”
“I need to?—”
“Yeah? What do you need, Jersey? Use your words. Tell me what you need.”
“I need to come. Please. Let me come,” I beg.
He groans again, the sound spurring me on. “Do it. Come for me. Imagine I’m right there with you fucking that sweet pussy until you can’t take it anymore. Come all over for me, Jersey.”
The orgasm crests and takes me right to the edge. I cry out, needing a little more to push me over.
“Do it. Now.”
The sound of his gruff command does the trick.
I fling myself over the edge of pleasure and clamp around my own fingers, imagining exactly what he told me—that it was him here inside of me instead of fingers.
Distantly, I hear the sound of Hayes gasping, coming down from his own orgasm.
I ride out the wave, lingering a moment longer. Slowly, the world comes back around me and I remove my fingers from my center, wiping them off on the comforter and turning my head to see Hayes on my screen.
He’s wearing a sleepy smile on his face, eyes glazed over. “Hey there,” he says, repeating his opening phrase. “You alive over there?”
My lips turn up and I breathe in deeply. “Barely. That was?—”
“Fucking hot.”
“Yeah. It was.”
“Can we do this every night?” he teases, sending me a wink.
I laugh and shrug a shoulder noncommittally. “I mean... I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”
He chuckles, his voice still gruff. Aftershocks of the intense orgasm travel through my body. “Me either.” He yawns again, and while I know he enjoyed our little rendezvous immensely, I suddenly feel bad knowing how long of a day he’s had.
“You should sleep,” I whisper.
His eyes find mine and he falls silent, watching me, memorizing me. His gaze flickers over every one of my features, leaving a hot trail of yearning in its wake. “You too,” he says softly.
“We’ll talk later?” I ask him, a thread of doubt rearing its ugly head.
“Absolutely. You’ll be the first thing I think of in the morning.”
That statement makes my heart flip. I feel like I’m more than enough for him, like I’m treasured and valued.
“Goodnight, Hayes.”
“Goodnight, beautiful.”
TWENTY-FOUR
hayes
