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"Keep your hand right there, baby," I growl low, my voice is rough with lust. "Squeeze it. Harder. Like I would if I were there, sinking my teeth into that perfect tit."

I hear her sharp inhale, then the rustle of fabric as she obeys. My fist pumps faster along my shaft, thumb swiping over the leaking head.

"Can you still hear me?" she whispers.

"Every fucking sound you make belongs to me. Open your blouse. Slowly. Show me what's mine."

I watch on the feed as she sets the phone down. A look of hesitation is quickly replaced by the daring smile I love so much. Her fingers tremble just enough to make my cock throb as she works each button open, revealing smooth skin and black lace that barely contains her.

"Fuck, look at you," I rasp, stroking myself harder. "Those tits were made to be sucked and marked by me. Touch them. Pinch your nipples the way I want to bite them."

"Gabe…" She moans my name out loud, arching into her own hands. Her thumbs circle those tight peaks until they're flushed dark and begging. "Like this?"

"Just like that, baby. Good girl. Now spread your legs. Let me see how wet that pretty pussy already is for me."

She does, knees falling open on the couch, skirt riding high. The lace between her thighs is soaked through. I groan deep in my chest, fist flying over my cock as I watch her drag two fingers over the damp fabric.

"Slide them aside," I order, voice gravel-rough. "Show me. Fuck, Audra, I'm so hard it hurts. I'm stroking my cock right now thinking about burying it inside you."

A broken whimper leaves her as she hooks the lace aside, exposing her glistening pink folds. She's dripping. My mouth waters.

"Touch yourself," I command. "Two fingers. Slow. Like I'd stretch you open while I suck on that clit."

She pushes them inside with a gasp, hips rolling to meet her hand. "Gabe… I'm aching for you. Thinking about your hands. Your mouth. The way you look at me like you'd kill for me."

Her words make me almost come. They're like a victory, no, they're better than a victory. She's submitting to me.

"I would," I growl, pumping faster, the wet sound of my fist obscene even to my own ears. "I'd burn the whole fucking world down just to keep you wet and needy like this. Deeper, baby. Curl those fingers. Tell me how it feels."

"So good," she pants, eyes locked on the camera like she's staring straight into my soul. "But not enough. I need you. I need your cock stretching me, owning me."

"Fuck—" My hips jerk up into my fist. "Get naked for me. Everything off. I want to watch every inch of what's mine."

She stands long enough to strip—blouse, skirt, bra, panties—until she's completely bare, flushed and trembling in the middle of all those expensive purses. Then she sinks back down, legs wide, fingers back between her thighs.

"Look at you," I groan, stroking harder, faster. "My beautiful, filthy Audra. Rub that swollen clit while you fuck yourself. I want to hear you come screaming my name."

"Gabe—oh God—" Her head falls back, her fingers plunge deep, her thumb circles frantically on her clit. The sounds she makes are pure sin, wet, desperate, broken moans that push me right to the edge.

"Come for me, Audra," I snarl, voice wrecked. "Come all over those fingers like the dirty little wife you're going to be. I'm right there with you—gonna paint my hand thinking about filling that tight cunt with every drop."

She shatters with a cry, arching her back. Her thighs are shaking violently, and my name tears from her throat like aprayer and a curse. The sight rips me apart. I come hard, thick ropes spilling over my fist as I keep stroking through it, groaning her name like a vow.

For a long moment, only our ragged breathing fills the line. Then I hear her soft, sated laugh. "Gabe…"

"Tomorrow night," I rasp, still catching my breath, voice dark with promise. "No screens. No distance. I'm coming for you in person. And when I do, I'm not stopping until you forget every man who ever existed before me. Until the only name you can scream is mine."

A pause. Then her voice, husky and certain, "Promise?"

"On my blood, baby. You're already mine. I'm just coming to collect."

The next day…

Right afterthatphone call, I fell asleep. Sleeping better than I had all week. I still can't bring myself to use the bed Pete and I shared for years. I'm actually tempted to burn it, that's how much I loathe it.

The couch isn't exactly comfortable, but it beats the floor.

I've packed all of Pete's stuff into boxes. All that's left is what is in and on his nightstand. A bottle of aspirin. A book on finance and statistics, a tin of mints, and… his tablet.