Taming A Predator

Chapter 61

A/N: Alright folks we got a special treat of a chapter for you guys tonight in honor of Doe's birthday AND the fact that I loved this scene too much not to slap it in here.

Everyone say thank you to my lovely Patreon Peeps for being okay with me sharing this here as well because they saw it first.

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Doe's POV:

I'd made a terrible mistake.

I stayed in with Khloe until a little after midnight before calling it quits.

She even insisted that maybe we just send Nico to this room so we could have our all-nighter like we planned, but I told her that we could just do it some other time.

When I got back, I wasn't quite tired yet and knew falling asleep would be a little different with the lack of Xander, so I decided to get into bed and read for a little bit.

I knew Xander was gone. I knew he wouldn't be back. I knew that my book's upcoming scene would be a heavily anticipated sex scene. I knew how much those got me quickly in the mood.

And with all of those facts together, I decided to read it anyway.

Big mistake. Big. Mistake.

I knew the risks and went on with it anyway, the scene I read igniting the exact reaction from me I knew it would.

Which, in my lonesome, left me naked on my bottom half, fingers pressing against the wet throbbing between my legs.

Eyes squeezed shut, head pressed hard against the pillow while I tried to take care of this myself for once.

I thought it would be easy. I'd read about such events, and decided I could pull it off based on what I've experienced with Xander. Mimicking his actions and how he touches me down there with my own hand.

But none of this felt the same as when he did it. Not even remotely close.

Unfairly so.

It felt good, but it didn't feel like him. And regardless of what I knew was possible given his absence, my body wasn't complying.

I mimicked the best I could the way he'd languidly circle my clit, bringing the collar of his shirt I wore up to my nose in an attempt to trick myself using my imagination.

Then dipping my fingers into myself, back arching at the sensation while I tried to replicate him.

Pleading with my body to just let me orgasm already so I could go to sleep.

The quicker I did that, the quicker I'd get Xander back tomorrow.

I'd gotten so close so many times but just... couldn't get myself over that last edge.

It was infuriatingly frustrating, even more so knowing that I'd been at this for nearly 45 minutes.

Enough so to where I nearly had tears pricking my eyes through the mix of desperation and late-night fatigue.

The thought of just taking a cold bath and forgetting about it crossed my mind many times, but I knew myself enough to know that it would only work for a moment.

Just until I got back into bed to sleep and then the thoughts would creep back up on me and leave me right where I was before.

How did people do this?

Was I just doing it wrong or... Maybe I had the angle wrong.

No, I just wasn't him. My hands weren't as large or calculated, and I was more limited in what I was able to do here.