Undeniably Enemies: Chapter 25

The picture goes through, and I smile.

I click on the picture and unsend the photo now that I know he’s seen it. I won’t let him keep it. The picture pops like a bubble bursting on my screen, and it’s gone. Like it never existed. That’s how he’ll be to me.

It was my fuck you to the universe. To all men.

Ho-lee-shit!

Even if the thought makes me squirm and clench.

I’m sweating. Like, legit already sweating. And my nipples are so hard. How can I be this turned on when he’s not here and has barely said anything? I shouldn’t do this with him, but I already know I am, and so does he. We can pretend it’s not real. It’s texting. He’s not here, and I’m not there, and he’s not actually touching or watching me.

Either way, I don’t care enough to stop.

Oh, I’m wet for him. I don’t even have to check.

I’m so close to telling him to. So. Close. But then what? What happens after that? He leaves because there is too much against us, and I can’t keep playing this game. This is already crossing lines I’ll likely regret tomorrow.

I prop myself up on my pillow and pull my blanket back so my body is exposed. I stare down at myself in the dark for a moment, picturing Jack’s eyes and the way he looks at me when I’m naked for him like this. My free hand comes up, and I cup the underside of my breast that far from fills up my hand. It feels so good, and I’m already moaning with anticipation.

Wait. Did I just porn-voice him with that? Is that weird? Fuck it. Who cares.

Fuck. Fuck! My back arches, and I do just as he tells me to. I pinch and roll my nipples until it hurts so good I can’t stand it any longer.

And I’m dead. Like seriously dead. Whether that’s hyperbole or not, it’s working. My hand slides down my body, and my fingers linger directly above my clit. It’s pulsing, and my empty core is aching to be filled. Yet it feels like I can’t touch myself without him telling me to.

I need to whether he tells me I can or not. It’s easier to be like this without him here. Easier to let my guard down and not fight him. I want him like this. I want him to own me and instruct me and tell me exactly how he wants me to do it because he’ll make it even better for me than I could for myself that way. And it’ll get him so hard. So hot for me.

My finger drops to my clit, and I start rubbing it in earnest. I am soaked, just as he said, because no one has ever eaten me the way Jack does—hell, a man has never loved doing it as much as Jack does—and just picturing it right now is so hot. I’ve never mastered the art of finger fucking myself and getting my clit the way I like it. This is where BOB typically comes in, but not tonight. I choose my clit, but my pussy isn’t happy about being ignored.

Fuck, I hate him.

Still, I can’t deny how good this feels, and I read over what he wrote. How he’d want to eat me out and suck on my tits. I moan and roll up into my hand, seeking more contact, more friction. But it’s still not enough. I need more.

I grit my teeth, but my need to come is too intense.

Oh, thank God.

Like my ass is on fire, I scramble to my nightstand and quickly dig through it. He picked the glass one, and I almost smile at that. With how wet I am, it doesn’t need lube, but it’s also not as thick or as long as he is or some of my other toys are, and I know it’s still part of his punishment for me.

I push it inside, and it slides right in and curves up, hitting my front wall just as it’s designed to. I fuck myself with it as I text him back, abandoning my clit, and this is when one of my rabbits would be better.

I put my phone down and work my clit while I fuck myself with my toy. I’m sweating and panting and arching my back. I’m so close as I picture him hovering above me, sweat on his brow, and his cheeks red as his dark eyes watch me. He pushes in and out, loving how he knows I need more and getting ready to give me just that.

“Oh fuck, Jack, yes.”

Oh god! I rub harder. Faster. Fuck myself deeper. Moans fly from my lips one after the other. I put my phone down, but I can’t stop thinking of his dirty words. Picturing him and how he looked when he came inside of me. I want more of them. More of him.

Fuck. I can’t… I pinch my eyes shut. “Jack!” I scream at the top of my lungs, not even caring if the couple who live upstairs hears me do it.

But I hear him too. “Wren!” It vibrates through the walls of my bathroom and into my bedroom, and I keep coming and coming, rubbing my clit and focusing in on that tight bundle of nerves as heat rushes through my limbs and brain. I’m moaning, writhing, clenching my body down on the glass toy, and curling my toes while my orgasm sweeps through me. It doesn’t slow or ebb. It just continues as I continue to rub and fuck myself.

My eyes close, and immediately, I have his head between my thighs, my fingers through his thick, dark hair. His blue eyes peek up at me beneath his dark lashes. A glimpse of his straight nose and wicked smirk hits me as he sucks my clit between his lips. I gasp all over again at how dirty and raw and depraved his expression is.

“Fuck!” I cry out and sag down into a heap of sated lust. My fingers are still on my clit, which is pulsing beneath them. I’m breathless and smiling while laughing lightly, and yes, a bit sweatier than I was when this all started.

Even as my eyes burn with strange, useless, stupid tears. I chuck my toy on my nightstand. I’ll clean it tomorrow. Instead, I roll over on my side and pinch my eyes shut for a moment so I don’t start crying over a sexting chat with the man who has lived inside my head for far too long.

I bite my lip so I don’t sob.

Insipid tears leak from my eyes, and I plug in my phone and force myself to fall asleep. I won’t dream about him tonight, but I’m already crying over him again. And nothing good for me will come from that.