His Urge Read Free Page B

me.  Tell me what you feel...”
    I heard the words but at first I didn’t listen to them.  The thought of self pleasuring seemed so far away.  Why would I bother touching myself when I had someone like Jonathan Black to touch me?  He was perfect and could touch places in ways I couldn’t.  He could bring me to orgasmic levels that I couldn’t, even with the use of toys.  He was all man, his sex as commanding as his face and actions.
    Jonathan lowered his left hand to my hip bone.  The tender spot made me moan and thrust.  As he slid his fingers into my panties, I let my head fall back.
    Yes.
    This was what I wanted and what Jonathan needed.
    Me.  My wet slit, my sex welcoming him with gentle throbs, reminding him of what I could do and what he could do to me.
    His hand didn’t cut in or follow the lines and curves of my body, but rather he stayed at my leg.  Before I could groan and potentially get myself into more trouble with Jonathan, I realized what he was doing. 
    He was pushing my panties down. 
    I kept my legs closed, allowing my panties to move with ease.  When I had to spread my legs, there was some resistance as my panties were wet enough that they clung to me.  Jonathan moved down to my knee and then reversed, letting his fingers spread wide, tickling my leg the entire trip up.  I was ready to come, desperate to come.  I instinctively spread my legs wider, hoping he would touch me.
    He didn’t.
    His command and resistrain were impeccable and when I looked at him again, I could feel the frustration in my own face.  I suddenly didn’t feel so innocent.  It was a new feeling, a good feeling, one that I could easily embrace.
    “What did I tell you?” Jonathan whispered.
    “Touch,” I said.
    “Then do it.”
    I used my right hand, moving it from my side.  I felt the stubble growing on my mound.  It made me wonder how Jonathan preferred me to look.  He would make that decision, not me.  I continued down until my middle fingertip felt the start of my wet folds.  I curled my finger, pulling up, and it sent a sensation through my body as I touched my sensitive clitoris. 
    I jumped and groaned, opening my mouth to take in a deep breath only to be flooded with the hot steam in the bathroom.  It was like taking a breath but not receiving air.  Like being lost in sex.  Really hot sex.
    My finger started to move left to right, almost on its own.  I gently moved my hips, pumping my clit at my finger as it moved.  Working them together made it feel better, but nowhere near the level that Jonathan Black could bring me to.
    Jonathan continued to stare right into my eyes. 
    “That’s my sweet Isabella Grace,” he said.  “I’m going to watch the pleasure in your eyes.  Show me... and tell me what it’s like.”
    I swallowed hard.  Never before had I been involved in any sort of ‘dirty talk’.  Dirty talk .  With the quick flicker of a smile, Jonathan Black had me right back where he wanted me.
    I was innocent again.
    My finger moved down, away from my clit.  I touched my aching spot and with a quick stroke, my fingertip moved into me.  I held there and my eyes grew wide.  I throbbed on my finger, imagining it was Jonathan Black.
    “Tell me,” he whispered.
    “I’m wet,” I said. “And warm...”
    “I like that.”
    “Really warm,” I said.
    I shut my eyes for a second and pressed my finger deeper.  It was halfway inside and I started to make circles, feeling my tender walls giving way.  The more they gave way, the more I throbbed, and the more pleasure I felt.
    “Don’t stop,” Jonathan said.
    “My finger’s inside me,” I said.
    “What does it feel like?” he asked, growing annoyed.
    “It’s... tight, Mr. Black.  I’m throbbing each time I push.”  I moved my finger in, then out, hearing the faint sound of wetness.  “It’s so wet too.  It’s like I haven’t been touched in days, no, weeks.”
    I opened like I had never done before.  And