Her voice, even over the phone, has me rock hard and ready.

Anticipation? Yes. A full communication blackout? No. That would have the exact opposite effect of what I’m hoping for.

I can hear fabric dropping to the floor, and then there’s a muffled static as Vivienne picks up the phone again.

“Are you naked, sweet thing?”

“I have nothing on.”

“Do you have your gifts?”

“No…”

“Get them, and go to your bedroom.”

“Okay.”

I sense soft footsteps, and then a shifting that tells me she’s put the phone between her ear and her shoulder. “I’m going there now.”

“How does it feel in your apartment?”

“Empty.”

“Temperature-wise.”

She laughs a little, low and throaty. “Warm, but not too warm.”

“Good.”

“I’m in my bedroom.”

“Lie down on your bed.”

A hushed sound. “I’m lying down.”

“Put the plug where you can see it.”

“I put it on my bedside table.”

“That’s perfect.”

“Now lay back and close your eyes.”

I’ve locked myself in the penthouse apartment on the twentieth floor of the Wilder Building. I couldn’t bear to be on the drive home when she called, because I knew she would call. I knew she couldn’t stand to wait very long to open the box once she got home. I also know she didn’t open it early, because my note would have drawn the truth out of her, driven her to call me even if the workday wasn’t over. I know it in my bones without even having to ask her.

“Dominic?”

I’ve been lost in images of her for too long—the sweet curves of her hips, her soft skin, her full lips on mine—but her voice brings me back. “Are you ready, sweet thing?”

A little laugh. “I don’t know what I’m getting ready for.”

“Pleasure.”

She sucks in a little breath. “I thought we were waiting.”

“We’re waiting for me to make you mine. We don’t have to wait for other things.” I shift in the leather chair in front of the fireplace, unlit, waiting for the summer to be over, for the bitter winter to come back again. I’ve taken off my suit jacket and tie, but I wish I could take it all off and stretch out next to Vivienne on her bed. “Are your eyes closed?”

“Yes.”

“Touch your collarbone for me. I wish I had my hands on you right now.”

She lets out a little sigh. “I wish you did, too.”

“Move your hands a little lower. Circle your nipples—use one finger, sweet thing.” Another little breath, a little gasp. “They’re hard, aren’t they?”

“Oh… yes.”

“Sensitive?”

She gulps. “Very.”

“Squeeze one of them. Let me hear you feel it.” There’s a more audible gasp this time. I bet she’s soaking wet already, if she wasn’t the moment she opened the box and saw what was inside. My cock twitches against the fabric of my pants, but I’m not going to react to it yet. Anticipation.

“I—”

“Don’t think about it, Vivienne. Listen to my voice.”

This time, her sigh is a satisfied one. This game is one she likes. This game is one I like, even if I prefer to play it in-person.

“Slide your hand down your belly.”

“How—how far?”

“How far do you think?”

“Should I—?” Her swallow is audible and her voice almost desperate. “Should I touch myself?”

“Should you touch yourself?” I repeat, as if I’m actually considering the words and weighing each one. “Should you slide your hands below your belly button to—oh…” I let my voice trail off.

“What is it?” There’s a hint of worry, but her voice is clouded with desire.

“Are you shaved?”

“I—” A nervous giggle. “I got a wax last week.”

“Did you leave anything?”

“A little…a little landing strip.”

“Aha.” She’s breathing harder now. “Where were we? Should you slip those fingers down over that neat little pussy and find your clit, and circle it with two fingertips—exactly two fingertips, because that’s what I’m telling you to do, Vivienne, those are your orders—should you do that? Yes. You should do that.”

She exhales, and I know she’s been waiting for this.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“It feels so good.”

“Are you wet?”

“Very wet.”

“If I was with you, I would lick that hot little slit from top to bottom—so slowly—and then I would suck your clit into my mouth and run my tongue over it until you came in my mouth.”

The sound she makes next isn’t quite a word. It’s really more of a moan. We’re getting there.

“Take your hand away, Vivienne.”

A frustrated growl.

“Are you still touching your hot, wet pussy?”

“No,” she groans.

“Pick up the vibrator.” A rustle, and then I hear a low hum in the background.

“Oh, Vivienne.” I let a hint of disappointment seep into my voice.

“What?” Her tone is anxious, eager.

“I didn’t tell you to turn it on.”

The humming stops, and Vivienne takes a long moment to speak again. “That was—that was a bad thing to do.”

“Yes.”

“Will I—will I need to be punished for that?”

She’s out on a limb, saying this to me right now, in this moment, when there’s no way she can deny it later, there’s no way she can say she was so swept up in anything that she blurted it out without meaning to.

“Oh, yes,” I tell her firmly. “Yes, you’ll need to be punished.” I let that linger, sink in, and hear her breath pick up the pace. “But not right now. Turn on the vibrator.”

The hum starts again.

“Slip it down to your pussy, into your folds, and tease yourself with it—lightly, sweet thing, so lightly.”

“Oh—”

“Do you want more?”

“Yes. Please. I want—I want—”

“Tell me now.”

“I want you buried inside me.”

“You can’t have that right now. But you can put the vibrator in a little. How I would tease you with the head of my cock if I was there, make you beg for it.” I’ve waited long enough, and when she gasps again, I unzip my pants. My steel-hard cock springs free, and I take it in my first and begin pumping in a steady rhythm. I can see her, head thrown back on the pillow, legs spread wide, waiting to fuck herself with the full length of the vibrator.

“Are you listening to me?”

She can barely get the next word out. “Y—yes.”

“Thrust it inside, Vivienne. Take all of it in, like you’ll take all of me. Do it hard.” She gives a little cry, and I know she’s done it.

“Are you spread wide for me?”

“As—as wide as I can—I can’t go any—”

“Good girl.”

She’s murmuring my name, and I know she’s writhing on her bed, naked and open and exposed, and I tighten my grip on my cock.

“Are you ready to come, sweet thing?”

“Yes. Please, Dominic, please say I can come, please—I can’t wait much longer, I can’t—”

“Wait.”

“Please!”

Her begging is urgent, sweet, and I’m so close, I’m almost there, I’m right at the edge—

“Come now, Vivienne. Now. And let me hear you.”

The sound of her moans, the rhythmic rocking of her hips against the bed, pushes me over into abrupt release. At the last moment, I drop the phone on the coffee table and grab a tissue from a discreet dispenser built into its surface, coming in hard waves.

“Now rest,” I say, when I’m finally in control of myself again. “Rest, sweet thing.”

She murmurs a goodbye, and I hang up.

Not bad for an evening apart.