Page 146 of Unloved

At night I try to tangle us into the bedsheets and slip my hands down her body, but Ro’s having none of it.

Instead, she makes me lie facedown on the bed for a massage that has noises ripping from my mouth that I’m not proud of. But judging by the flush on Ro’s cheeks when I do inevitably peek up at her, I’m not mad about the noises, either. The effect on Ro is always worth it.

After she finishes and my body feels like goo, we cuddle and put on a movie that neither of us watches, quietly sharing breath and too afraid to close our eyes or move closer.

“I want to do you now,” I finally say, pulling her shirt away from her body, and Ro’s eyes go wide.

Chuckling, I shake my head and roll her onto her stomach, leaning down to her ear to mutter, “Such a dirty mind.” Her hands grip the bedsheets, gooseflesh rippling across her neck, shoulders, and arms.

My hands reach for the lavender-scented lotion that she used on me, warming it in my hands before I press into her skin.

A groan pulls from her, low and unbidden, and my dick is immediately hard as a rock. It would’ve been hard either way—touching Ro is a kink of mine—buthearingher? Another level of bliss.

“You don’t have to—” Her sentence cuts off into another moan.

“I want to. And you deserve this, too,” I whisper, selfishly pressing a few kisses to her spine. I reach for the lace back of her bra, the tiny clasp taunting me, before angling beneath it to rub in the lotion when she stops me.

“You can take it off.”

Ro’s suggestion is as quiet as a breeze, but I hear it like a megaphone in my ear.

Without hesitating, I deftly snap the clasp open and massage her skin reverently, growing braver as I tease the low hem of her soft, thin sleep shorts.

Her relieved moans from the easing tension of her muscles slowly turn to… something else.

I pull away when I realize how quick and heavy her breaths are, the white-knuckle grip she has on the sheets of her bed. Ro is panting, grinding lightly into her mattress, hips undulating.

It’s so fucking hot I have to swallow back a deep groan, gripping my dick hard through the material of my sweats.

“I’m sorry,” Ro suddenly says, flipping over onto her back, hiding her face and shaking her head. “I’m— I don’t know what’s wrong with me—”

“Ro.” I hover over her body. “Stop it, okay? Don’t apologize. There is nothing wrong with you.”

“I’m—that’s not—”

I brazenly grab her hand off the sheets and pull it to cup my cock, rock hard and straining against my sweats.

Her eyes go wide, pupils blown as she stares up at me with no more protests. Hesitantly, she pulls her hands back from my body and tucks them behind her, sitting half up on her elbows.

“I want to do something,” I say, sitting back on my knees. “I want you to touch yourself.”

“W-with you watching me?”

There’s anxiety all over her face, but there is also interest and curiosity. She’s still turned on, but she’s nervous. Nerves I can deal with.

“Will you do it, too?” she asks. “Please?”

“You want me to touch myself for you? Give you a little show while you play with your pretty little pussy?”

A gasp bursts from her, and her legs snap together, squeezing. Her lust-soaked embarrassment is as intoxicating as always. She’s so brazen and wanting, even beneath the anxiety that I know for a fact Tyler put there.

I’m certain there will be a day Ro will take charge of her own pleasure. When she’ll be completely unafraid to ask for what she wants. But until then, I am happy to lead her. To show her that Iwanther to want things, to ask for anything. For her to feel good.

“Take your shorts off, Rosalie. And lie back.”

She does, slow and careful, as she keeps her eyes on me.

“Good girl.” She whimpers and I sit back, stripping off my sweats and taking myself in hand. “Open your legs for me, princess.”

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