What would he have done if she had touched herself in front of him, as she did when she was alone? How intense and dominant would he become if he had seen her touching herself when she missed him?
Or even now?
Would he enjoy watching her masturbate?
The tips of her nails rasped against the sensitive flesh of her lower stomach as she remembered his touch. His kiss. The way he would use his versatile, wicked tongue to lick and taste her skin.
She wanted to moan at the excitement that suddenly rushed through her. The silent thought that she could tease him in such a way. That the next time she saw him she would have the nerve to be the seductress she always imagined being, but hadn’t yet garnered the courage to be.
Or the chance. The chance to watch his gaze darken and narrow as she touched her nipples or ran her fingers through her juices before circling her clit.
His sensuality overwhelmed her. Once he touched her, all thoughts of anything but being possessed by him, taken and ridden to exhaustion, flew from her mind. She hadn’t remembered to tease him by touching herself; even though she had promised herself she would.
Her fingers trailed to the band of her panties, pushed beneath slowly, then feathered over the short, soft curls at the top of her mound.
Below, the slick, waxed flesh felt flushed and swollen, her juices easing over it as arousal began to build within her. She could feel the inner flesh of her pussy heating, aching, needing him.
She knew better than to go further. The sheer frustration she had found over the months in masturbating was becoming ridiculous. She could never satisfy herself as she once had. She was always left aching, wanting, her pussy and her clit still throbbing despite the release she found.
Satisfaction could only be found with Casey and she knew it.
With his touch, his kiss, or the heavy, throbbing length of his cock pushing inside her, Penetrating her with a slow, measured surge. Each thrust would draw a cry from her lips and stretch her to her limits. It would burn. Pleasure-pain would fill her, then ecstasy would overtake her.
She bit her lip, a surge of sexual need flooding her system and tightening through her womb.
Her fingers slid lower. Any touch would be better than none, she told herself desperately. Any release better than no release at all.
Her fingers stroked over her clit as her breath caught at the wave of sensation that rushed through her senses. Swollen and slick, the little bud throbbed in desperation as she let her fingers ease through the wet, slickened folds of her pussy.
Her hips lifted to her own touch, her fingers slid lower.
“Keep that up and I’ll come in my damned jeans before I can get them off.”
Sheila’s eyes flew open, a gasp leaving her lips as she stared at the end of the bed where Casey stood watching her. Chocolate brown eyes looked black in the darkness as he finished unbuttoning the shirt he wore, moving slowly, giving her all the time she needed to tell him to go to hell. And that was exactly what she should do. She should never let herself weaken. She should throw him out until he decided he loved her and couldn’t live without her. That was what she should do.
Instead, she let her fingers reach further, one dipping into the clenched, heated entrance of her pussy. Delicate muscles gripped her fingers, spasmed, and clenched as pleasure shot through her.
His jaw tightened and a second later he was shrugging the shirt from the powerful width of his shoulders.
Muscles rippled beneath the tough, hardened flesh. Random scars, nicks, and marks covered the broad expanse, and she knew he carried even more on his left hip and ankle from the wound that had forced his discharge from the army.
Lips parting to drag in a ragged breath, Sheila pushed her finger in deeper, aware that Casey had yet to take his eyes from where her fingers worked between her thighs. Electric sensation shot through her nerve endings as a gasp left her lips. Casey tore at the metal tab and zipper of his jeans, releasing them before pushing them from his long, powerful legs. Casey didn’t wear underwear. His cock sprang free, eager to join the fun.
When he straightened, his erection stood out from his body, thick and erect, the flared crest darkened and shining with moisture.
He palmed the heavy shaft. Long, broad fingers stroked his erection as he watched her with narrowed eyes, lust gleaming in naked demand.
“Take off your panties.” His voice was guttural and rough, the command heavy with hungry male intent.
“Let me watch you fuck yourself with your fingers.”
A chill tore up her spine before a fist clenched her womb and tightened through her pussy. A wash of juices saturated her cunt and the sizzling ache of pure sensual hunger washed through it.
Oh God, she wanted him so desperately. She needed him inside her pussy, thrusting, pushing in with the heavy thrusts she knew would throw her headfirst into ecstasy.
Feeling dazed, as though she were living in a fantasy, Sheila shed her panties, tossing them carelessly to the floor as her legs spread, giving him a clear view of her fingers sliding between the swollen lips of her pussy once again.
Sensation swept through her as he watched, sending excitement racing through her.
“Ah yes, baby,” he rasped. “Let me see how pretty you are. How fucking sweet as you fuck yourself.”
Stroking the hard flesh of his cock, he watched as her fingers slid once again to the snug entrance of her pussy.
She wanted him to watch. She needed him to watch. Never had her own touch
