Filthy Beautiful Forever(Filthy Beautiful Lies, #4)

I push my thumb into her mouth, her lips parting to accept me. Her mouth is hot and wet and when she swirls her tongue around my thumb, I imagine it’s the head of my cock and release a strangled groan.

Removing my thumb, I reach down and palm my cock through my shorts. “Fuck.” My body aches with the need for a release.

When she opens her mouth to speak, I think she’s about to argue, to tell me that this is crazy. “Will you…” her eyes fall to my lap. “Stroke yourself too?” she asks.

I nod. “If you rub that swollen clit of yours.” I glance down at her bare legs, which are still pressed together.

She swallows, and her eyes get this determined look. It’s beautiful. She lifts her T-shirt, slowly, carefully, treating me to another erotic show.

My greedy gaze follows the path, eating up each inch of skin she exposes. She’s shaved bare, and my mouth waters knowing how smooth she’d be against my face. She continues lifting the shirt until she can pull it off over her head. I appreciate the dip in her soft belly, and the way her full, heavy breasts sway when she drops the shirt over the side of the bed.

Once she’s naked, she gets a little shy, and I worry for a second that she’s going to back out on me.

“Your breasts are beautiful,” I say. “Touch them for me,” I whisper.

Tentatively, she brings her hands to her breasts and cups their weight.

“Gorgeous,” I murmur, urging her on.

Still unsure, and chewing on her lower lip, her fingertips graze her nipples and she draws a shuddering breath.

“That’s it. It’s so fucking hot watching you.”

She circles her nipples and they harden into peaks. Her eyes drift closed and she releases a soft sigh from the pleasurable contact.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” I ask.

She blinks her eyes open and finds my eyes. “Yes,” she breathes.

“Good girl. Trail your right hand down your belly.”

With her eyes still on mine, she lowers her hand.

“Slow,” I tell her.

She swallows and slows her movements, letting her fingers graze her belly, then her hip bone as she moves it lower.

“Put your hand between your legs and tell me how wet you are.”

Her fingers dip lower, and she moans. “I’m soaked, Collins.”

Fuck.

I need to touch my cock, but I won’t do it until she asks again. Right now is about her-her pleasure. And something tells me if I’m not directing her movements, encouraging her, she’ll stop. I can’t have that.

“Push one finger inside for me,” I growl.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

She does, sinking her finger in up to the knuckle, and lets out a moan as her eyes drift closed.

“Tell me how you feel,” I whisper.

She inhales sharply, her finger drawing in and out. “I…Oh, God, it feels good. It’s been so long.”

I’m unsure what to make of her comment-it’s been a long time since she’s had a lover, or since she’s touched herself? But I don’t care. Either way, I just want to see her come all over her fingers while I’m beside her.

“Show me,” I say.

Her eyes latch onto mine, confused.

“Show me how you make yourself come,” I say.

I can read the indecision in her eyes. I don’t want a sexy show; I want her to touch herself like she does when no one’s watching.

“I want to see you too.” She looks down my abs, to where my cock is straining against the shorts.

I nod, reaching for my waistband, then pause. Her eyes dart back up to mine. “Don’t come until I say,” I tell her. Then I pull my shorts down my hips until my cock is freely resting against my stomach. I take myself in my hand, stroking lightly. I growl out a curse. My cock is so hard and so sensitive it’s not going to take me long. “Now show me how you like it.”

She withdraws her fingers and parts her outer lips until that pleasure-seeking bundle of nerves is exposed, then she rubs herself in a circular motion. At the end of the bed, I see her toes curl.

Hell yeah.

Her breathing increases and grows ragged. I want it to be my fingers stroking her clit until she writhes and comes undone, but if it can’t be me, then watching her do it is the next best thing.

Mia’s chest is rising and falling fast, and her hips push upwards as her hand continues stroking. Her thighs fall open completely, treating me to a sight that makes my mouth water. Glistening pink flesh swollen with arousal. I want to sink inside her so bad, to memorize the way her hot cunt feels around me. But I won’t. Not yet.

She watches me pull my cock in long, easy strokes. “Are you imagining it’s my hand on you?” she asks, slightly breathless.

“Fuck yeah,” I say, pumping my fist over the crown and groaning. “But you’d be using two hands.” It’s obvious to us both, given my generous size, and her delicate hands. “And I’d make you go slow, so I could savor every bit of pleasure, the way your soft hands stroked my shaft while you were wishing it was your mouth.” Mia lets out a moan. “I’d want to take my time, not come right away,” I admit.

Mia’s fingers pick up speed as she circles the bud with a wet sound.

“I wish it was my tongue on your clit,” I say. “I could spend hours fucking you with my mouth.”

She lets out a desperate whimper, and I know she’s getting close. Her hips rock up with every stroke. I pump my cock harder.

“That’s it. Come for me sweetheart, give me everything.”

She cries out, and her fingers still as she comes. I can see the muscles in her pussy tremble and imagine how incredible it would feel to have her clench around my cock. I come with a hoarse moan, spilling myself onto my chest and abs.

After, we lay side by side, watching each other as my pulse pounds in my ears. I’m desperate to take her in my arms, but I know I can’t. She’s not mine, even if we did just share an incredibly intimate moment. I might not have laid a finger on her, yet I feel closer to her than anyone. I want to apologize, to explain that we shouldn’t have done that. But I’m not sorry. And I would do it again in a heartbeat.

We lay, unmoving, facing each other for several minutes. Mia searches my eyes for clues about what I’m thinking. “Collins?” she asks, finally, her voice small.

I lean over her on the bed, petting her hair back away from her face. “I’m sorry if I got a little carried away.”

She hesitates, and I wonder what she could be thinking. But then her expression lightens. “This is better than the sleepovers we had when we were twelve.”

An unexpected laugh rumbles in my chest and I kiss her forehead. “That was way fucking better. Are you okay?”

She nods. “I’m great.”

“Good. I’m going to clean myself up quick.” I rise from the bed in search of something to clean myself off, but opt for a shower. I don’t know what to think about the fact that I haven’t been able to fuck my own girlfriend for weeks and I just came like a goddamn fire hose at my own hand with Mia beside me.

Ten minutes later, I emerge with a towel around my hips and see Mia lying in bed, dressed once again in her T-shirt.

“Let’s get some sleep.” I pull on my discarded shorts from beside the bed and crawl beside her.

I have no idea how I’m going to be productive in meetings tomorrow with Pierre and his executives with the erotic image of Mia coming on her own fingers permanently tattooed into my brain.

I switch off the light and we lie silent in the dark a few moments before I feel the bed shift slightly, as Mia moves closer to me, releasing a sleepy sound. She curls her hand around mine and squeezes. “Night, Coll,” she yawns.

“Goodnight, angel,” I murmur.

I lay awake for a long time after that as a rush of emotions charges through me without invitation. Part of me feels like shit for what I’ve done to Tatianna, yet the relief at knowing our relationship is over is immediate and all-encompassing, but most of all, I feel like I screwed up with Mia yet again.