Voyeur - Lacey Alexander [14]
His chest rose and fell as desire tightened inside him, centering in his groin. His dick throbbed in his hand.
And then she released a high-pitched cry and he saw the ecstasy transform her expression—even with her eyes shut, her muscles relaxed, and any agony on her face softened to pure pleasure. She lifted herself in a harder, slower rhythm against her hand as she rode out the climax—and he said, “Ah, damn,” since he knew he was going to come, too, no stopping it, and he exploded in long, intense bursts into the tissues he, thankfully, had already placed at his side.
The heated pulses forced his eyes shut and delivered the usual brief-but-blissful out-of-body experience before it all faded to exhaustion and let him refocus on the screen.
Laura sat on the couch, still now, but her legs remained prettily spread, like a centerfold picture on his computer. She licked her upper lip and looked straight at him, eyes glassy. In the aftermath of orgasm, her skin seemed to glow on the high-resolution screen, and she looked thoroughly satisfied . . . yet her expression made him wonder what else lurked inside her.
“This isn’t me,” she said quietly to the camera. Then gave her head a soft shake that made her hair bounce and her breasts jiggle lightly. “I don’t know what you do to me.”
His chest spasmed at her words. He hated that she didn’t understand that this was, indeed, very clearly her. But he loved being the man getting to show her. And he continued to be all the more astonished to realize, once more, that it had happened completely by accident, and through a mere computer screen.
I know what I do to you, Laura. I get you hot. Hotter than anyone ever has.
And I’m going to get you even hotter.
Hold on tight, baby, because this ride is just starting, and before it’s over, I’m going to make you do things you’ve never even thought about before.
Getting up and walking out of the room, stopping only to scoop up her sexy panties on the way, had felt no less than surreal. Laura had spent the next ten minutes fluctuating between embarrassment, disbelief, and the odd sense of exhilaration that had remained after so openly touching herself for her corporate-raider-flyboy-without-a-name.
She couldn’t believe she’d done it. But she also couldn’t believe how utterly incredible it had felt. Knowing his eyes had been on her—not just a fantasy—had excited her more than anything ever had. Starting out, of course, she hadn’t been sure she could really do it—but oh, had she ever done it! And once she’d let go of her worries and fears, once she’d forgotten about everything else but his eyes and her body, it had been sinfully easy.
To her surprise, she didn’t feel like changing into comfy pajamas afterward, so instead she’d slept naked. She woke up the next morning feeling freer and more energized just from remembering the previous night. She put on only a pair of white cotton panties and a strappy yellow cami to head down to the kitchen, wondering why she hadn’t started wearing less here sooner. Despite the snow outside, the house stayed warm—overly so when the sun was out—so she’d probably be much more comfortable this way than she had the first night and through the day yesterday.
After consuming coffee and a bowl of cereal while looking out at the peaceful white setting—where she noticed the tracks of a rabbit or some other small animal—she headed straight for the computer, as anxious as Riley Wainscott probably was to find out what exactly the dark stranger was up to and if it had anything to do with the priceless antique broach that had turned up missing from Mrs. Dorchester’s jewel box during her writing late yesterday. Aunt Mimsey certainly thought him suspicious, but Riley was holding her judgment for the time being—and planning to investigate him a lot more thoroughly before she made up her mind.
By noon, Riley had stumbled