Page 54 of Made for Reign

“You heard me.” I keep my tone level, commanding. “I don’t want you in clothes she chose while you’re talking to me. Take it off.”

I hear her quick intake of breath, then rustling fabric. My cock hardens fully, pressing against my jeans as I picture her obeying. Always so good for me, even when she pretends to resist.

“It’s off,” she whispers.

“Good girl.” The praise makes her breath hitch. “Now, tell me what you’re wearing underneath.”

“White lace.” Her voice has gone throaty. “Matching set.”

“Fuck.” The image of her in white lace nearly undoes me. “Touch yourself for me.”

“Reign, I don’t?—”

“Yes, you do.” I free my cock from my jeans, already leaking. “You’re going to touch yourself and tell me exactly how it feels. Starting with those perfect tits I can’t stop thinking about.”

Her soft moan tells me she’s obeying. “Okay.”

“Tell me.” I wrap my hand around my length, stroking slowly. “Tell me what you’re doing.”

“I’m...I’m touching my breasts through the lace.” Her breathing accelerates. “Thinking about your hands. How rough they were. How good they felt.”

“Pinch your nipples.” My voice has gone gravelly. “The way I did last night.”

Her sharp gasp shoots straight through me. “Oh, god.”

“That’s it, baby. Now slide your hand down. Are you wet for me?”

“Yes.” The admission comes out as a whimper. “So wet.”

“Good. Push your panties aside and touch yourself. Pretend it’s my fingers.”

The sounds she makes as she follows my commands have me stroking faster. I can picture her spread out on some generic hotel bed, face flushed, body arching as she chases pleasure. But it’s not enough. Won’t be enough until she’s back in my arms.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” I demand.

“You.” No hesitation. “Your mouth on me. Your hands. The way you felt inside me.”

“How many fingers are you using?”

“Two.” Her breath catches. “But it’s not...it’s not the same.”

“I know, baby. Nothing’s the same as my cock filling you up.” My hand moves faster, chasing my own release. “Add another finger. Fuck yourself the way I would.”

Her moan is pure sex, desperate and needy. I can hear the wet sounds of her fingers working, can practically taste her arousal on my tongue.

“Are you close?” I ask, though I can tell from her breathing that she is.

“Yes. Reign, I’m?—”

“Come for me.” It’s an order, not a request. “Come with my name on your lips.”

She shatters with a cry that makes me follow immediately after. My release spurts over my hand as I groan her name, wishing desperately I was filling her instead of wasting it.

For several moments, we just breathe together across the miles. The connection between us pulses even through the phone, undeniable and overwhelming.

“I miss you,” she whispers finally, vulnerability clear in her voice.

“I know, baby. Two more days.” I clean myself up one-handed, not ready to break our connection. “I have a surprise for you when you get back.”

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