Page 99 of Pretty Obsessed

"Not soon enough." He propped the phone up against something and started to stroke as he played, spread and open. All the trust in the world to put on this kind of explicit show for me. He curled up making sure I knew he still watched.

"Are you going to come for me?" I asked, power surging through me.

"Are you telling me to?" he asked, forearm flexing with each stroke, veins protruding, all of him tightly coiled and ready to shoot.

"Yes. I want to watch you get off while I come."

His tongue poked between lips and his eyes lit, determined. Within a minute he came, writhing and gasping, painting himself in his cum.

I couldn't have held back if I wanted to. I could feel him riding me, every clench and squeeze pulling tight around me. I couldn't wait months to see him again. To be inside him. I came so hard, the way he said I owned him burned into my brain.

I wanted nothing more than to be there with him as soon as possible.

"So that happened."

"Are you unhappy?" I didn't want him to regret any of it.

He shook his head. "Are you?"

"Not even a little. It might be the only way I survive until I can be inside you again."

He squirmed. "You want to do it again?"

"As much as you'll let me. You put on quite the show." My words were rewarded with his smile.

"I've never done that before either."

“We are full of firsts, aren’t we?” My jaw tightened. Good. I wanted all of those parts of him to myself. I didn't want him sharing. "I like that."

"That I haven't done it with anyone else?"

"Yes, Emory."

"Have…you?" his words came out hesitant.

"Never." But how could I demand he keep those parts of himself for me? How could I own him when he didn't want to give me more than friends with benefits? I had to figure out how to tell him I wanted so much more. "This was the first time."

His smile returned as we both settled back, not bothering to clean up yet. I did fix my shorts in case Iris happened to wake up.

"I like being your first."

"You have so many of them." I liked being his, too. I hated the idea of anyone else having those things with him. Even if they came before me, an insane notion, but I couldn't help my feelings.

"It feels good."

"It does." And now I ached but in a totally different way. I ached to hold him. To be able to exchange feelings physically.

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

Put right on the spot, but I picked up on something else as well. There was a bit of a hitch to his voice.

"Have you been thinking about this all day?"

"It hasn't been all day…" He clenched his teeth and looked more like an emoji than a person. How endearing.

Did he know he made all those little faces? He did them while writing, too. I tried not to, but I'd ended up watching him out of the corner of my eyes while he wrote, chuckling to myself as he seemed to act out every expression he wrote.

"Only a few hours then. I apologize."

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