Page 63 of Click

He’s so sexy. So big. So observant and stern, yet gentle and patient. Carson’s a wild mix of pleasures and discoveries—all built for my pleasure.

I stare at his big, brown eyes and black hair. Then I drop my gaze to his perfectly sloped nose. Finally, I latch onto his snakebites. I finger myself harder and bite my bottom lip when I feel an orgasm build. Tension mounts. Dropping my phone, I use both hands to pleasure myself, imagining Carson’s body hovering over mine. He’s collaring my throat with his hand, squeezing it just enough to make me tense. His teeth graze my shoulder just before he bites down. The heat from his body warming me up…

“That’s it, little vixen. Fuck yourself for me. I want to hear it. I want to smell it. I want to taste it.”

Rubbing my clit faster, harder, I plunge two fingers into my pussy. I wish he was here. I wish it was his cock inside me. His mouth on me. His hands on me. I want to hear him growl in my ear.

“Fuck me, Carson.” My back bows and heels digging into the cushions as I add a third finger and try to make myself come with his image plastered on the backs of my eyelids.

The climax was hard to chase, but I finally manage to tip over the edge. Pleasure washes over me like I’ve slid into a refreshing pool on a hot summer’s day. It lasts for a few seconds and dies out.

How… underwhelming.

Popping my eyes open, I sink into disappointment. After having wild sex with Carson, my worst fear has been solidified: Nothing else will compare to him.

I need a lot going on at once to make my brain click into pleasure mode. It’s why I gravitated towards primal play. Even after my first time with Carson, when I crashed in a frenzy of mixed emotions, I’d never come so hard in my goddamn life.

Until I came even harder the second time we did a hunt and chase, when I’d surprised him in his backyard.

Picking up my cell again, I stare at his picture. “You’ve ruined me for any other man.” Unshed tears make my dark apartment blurry.

He’s shown me how precious and powerful patience and vulnerability are. He’s given me adrenaline rushes not even roller coasters can come close to. He’s provided me with safety and acceptance while letting me play out my fantasies in a safe way. He’s soft and sweet. He’s strong and savage. He’s—

Online.

Panic and jealousy clog my throat.

It’s quickly squashed when a chat bubble pops up.

WolfByte: Boo.

I giggle, despite the unease trying to slither into my belly. Why is he on here? Is he looking for someone else? Wouldn’t that be a breach of our contract? Does he want to end things with me so soon?

Chill, Mak…

Pricurious: Boo back.

I wait for him to say something else. When he doesn’t, I type something to fill the silence and erase everything before I hit send. This happens three times and then my cell rings.

Shit.

“Hey.”

“Heyyy,” he purrs in a deep, sleepy voice. “Didn’t expect to see you online.”

I think there’s jealousy in his tone, or maybe I’m just reading into things too much. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me either.”

“Why are you on the app?” The question blows out of me like a hurricane, but my voice is small and fragile. I hate that I’m being insecure. We signed a contract. We’re exclusive to each other. He’s not going to cheat on me.

Why would I care if he did? We’re not a couple.

I feel queasy.

“You probably don’t want to know the answer,” he says, laughing. “Why are you on?”

Anger surges in my veins, but I don’t dare give it a voice. “You probably don’t want to know the answer.”