Page 74 of Fire Fight
For over an hour, I soaked in the bath, my favorite true crime podcast set at a low volume keeping me company. I even went so far as to shave my legs and my pussy, luxuriating in the smooth skin I exposed beneath the overgrown hair.
Also in the interest of self-care, I couldn’t hold back from pleasuring myself with the vibrator I’d brought with me.
Switching off my podcast in favor of some sultry music, I picked up the toy and turned it on, the low hum of the vibration filling the room and tightening my skin with anticipation. I’d spent a long time alone, which meant getting good at turning myself on and getting myself off with the help of my toys. This one was one of my favorites—bright pink and about five inches long with a slight curve to it that nestled itself right against that spot inside that always had my legs shaking uncontrollably when I hit it. It also had an external stimulation feature, two little “bunny ears” that hugged the sides of my clit and made my orgasms that much stronger.
First, I pressed it to my nipples, arching my back into the sensation. I was a member of the itty bitty titty committee, and Crew’s massive palms would likely be able to entirely dwarf my chest, but I still wondered what it’d feel like to have his calloused hands scraping against my delicate skin. How his hot, wet mouth would feel on the tight peaks, drawing my nipples between his teeth and applying light pressure.
I liked a little pain with my pleasure, and I had a feeling Crew would know exactly what to do with me. He’d rough me upa bit, gripping me tight enough to bruise, leave bite marks all over my body. But also he’d know when to pull back, when to be gentle. When I needed the slow rocking of his hips and when I wanted him to pound relentlessly into me.
Moving the toy to my mouth, I ran my lips along it, tongue darting out every so often before slipping it in and closing around it, hollowing out my cheeks and sucking hard. I pretended it was Crew’s cock, like he was standing next to me, outside the tub, rocking himself in and out of my mouth. I imagined the sounds he’d make, the way he’d fist my hair and fuck my face while I stared up at him, eyes pleading for more.
Soon, my clit throbbed insistently, demanding attention, and I dragged the toy down my abdomen and between my lips. Working it back and forth, I let the blood heat in my veins as I toyed with myself. The vibration against my clit was maddeningly delicious, drawing a soft moan from my throat as I lingered. The pressure in my core coiled tighter and tighter the longer I held it there—only to pull it away right before the wave of release crested and crashed.
I liked edging myself.
I liked it even better when a man did it for me.
Damn, I’d bet all the money I had that Crew was a knockout in bed.
Unable to stand it any longer, not with thoughts of him at the forefront of my brain, I thrust the toy inside myself. My back arched against the intrusion, and I shifted my hips and the vibe around until the tip hit that hidden spot.
Then I flicked on the bunny ears on the lowest setting, a cry leaving me as they strummed my clit. The toy was good, I’d give it that, but I could guarantee Crew’s touch on my sensitive bud would feel so much better.
When I was comfortable, when the toy was exactly where I needed it, hitting all the right pressure points and pleasure spots, I cranked it all the way up.
Instantly, my toes curled against the porcelain beneath my feet, my head falling back to rest on the rim of the tub. Gasping moans and whimpers left me as the vibrator did its job, working me higher and higher, taking me apart from the inside out.
My orgasm came on faster this time, spurred by the filthy images I conjured of Crew in this tub with me, his fingers buried deep in my pussy as he held me above the surface of the water and flicked my clit repeatedly with his tongue. I squeezed my eyes shut and pictured his strong, tattooed arm bunching and flexing as he fucked me with his hand. That quickly morphed into thoughts of him sinking into the water and pulling me onto his lap, where my pussy, drenched in arousal, would allow me to easily impale myself on him, riding his cock like it was my fucking job. Eyes still closed, I rocked forward onto my knees and gripped the end of the toy with one hand and the edge of the tub with the other, holding myself upright while pumping it in and out in an approximation of what I’d do with Crew.
I detonated with a loud cry, my release scattering me into a thousand little pieces as I called his name, the word echoing back to me from the tile walls in the cavernous room. Water sloshed over the edges and onto the floor as I bore down on the toy, my climax sending wave after wave of pleasure through me.
At last, I stilled and drooped, boneless, back into the water, a satisfied smirk on my face.
twenty-two
. . .
ASPEN
In the twodays since my bathtub play time, I’d hardly seen Crew. Admittedly, he’d slept most of the day before when he got off shift, but now that he was restored, he was still suspiciously MIA. For some reason, he’d been locked in his office. Butwhy? Had I done something wrong?
Oh, God. Had he somehow learned what I’d done to myself in his tub with his name on my lips?
No, that wasn’t possible. The house may be wired, but there was no way in hell he’d have cameras in his private spaces.
Unfortunately, I was going crazy being cooped up, and I needed to let him know I was leaving.
I lightly tapped the door with my knuckles. “Crew?”
“Yeah?”
His voice was muffled, and I waited, listening, but only silence greeted me. He made no move to greet me face to face.
I sighed, suddenly irritated. Ever since dinner at the ranch, he’d been acting cagey and weird.
“I’m going to run into town. I want to run to the library again, and I’ll pick up something for dinner. Anything you want?”
“Nah, I’m good. Be safe!”
