When Molly first starts to answer him, he plans to ask her if his body lived up to her expectations, if touching him had been as satisfying as she'd hoped. But then she went on, talked about them touching themselves so the other could watch, and he could picture it easily, Molly sitting opposite him on the bed, reclined against the headboard with her legs pressed wide as her beautiful, long fingers worked between her thighs, rubbing and touching, shining with the wetness of her. He couldn't help the rough, shuddered exhale that came out of him, his body reacting to her words.

And then, when Will didn't think she could say anything that would turn him on more, she talked about touching herself, putting her fingers inside, thinking of him as she did it. "Oh Molly," he moaned, his eyes closing with the wave of desire that rolled over him. He swallowed and opened his eyes, looking at her hungrily. "I dreamed about you every night we were apart," he told her, his voice barely more than a heated whisper. "Two nights ago, I woke up from one of those dreams, and I was so hard," he went on, his eyes searching hers, moving every so often to look at her mouth instead. "I hardly had to touch myself after, there was so much of you in my mind."

He took another shuddering breath, his hand slipping out of her hair and onto the back of her neck. "I want to be inside you," he admitted, knowing she already knew but wanting to say it. "I want to feel you around me, I want to be a part of you," he continued, moving close enough to brush his mouth against hers, to breathe hotly into it. "It doesn't have to be tonight or even soon, but god, I want you so much."