Luna

There is a moment of silence on the other side before he huffs a laugh.

"My beautiful, intelligent wife... I can never fool you, can I?"

"You're impossible," you say, but your voice has gone soft around the edges. After all these years, it doesn’t really shock you- your husband's idea of protection and love was rather twisted.

"And you're tired. You keep rubbing the back of your neck the same way you do when those conference chairs wreck your spine. Did you eat dinner?"

"I did."

"Good girl."

You close your eyes. The ceiling stretches above you, and somewhere in that ceiling, hidden so seamlessly you'd never spot it without knowing to look, is the small red blinking dot that has become a familiar sight over the years.

Your husband is watching you.

You know it was outrageous. A huge violation of privacy, and you should be angry on principle. Probably should have run away years ago and put out a restraining order on him.

But you feel yourself relaxing instead. It’s a strange comfort now, being watched by him, knowing that he would act promptly the moment you were in danger simply because his eyes were always on you.

It was twisted, very ethically-questionable, but you never did anything to really stop him. Not like you had anything to hide- he was your husband. He had seen more of you than any other person. He could plant bugs wherever he wanted that would put his anxious mind at ease.

"I miss you." you say softly.

"Hmm I can see... you are needy aren't you?"

Your breath hitches.

"Lay back... and take everything off except your panties."

"Not wearing any." you say as you strip off your clothes, leaving you bare on the soft sheets.

You hear a loud, ragged inhale through the reciever "You are killing me..." he grunts "Spread your legs. Let me look at my pussy."

You obey, spreading your thighs wide and shivering a little as the cool AC air hits your glistening mound.

"You are wet already? Looks like my pussy knows when it should be ready for her owner." he grunts, and you hear the rustling of a belt "Now touch yourself. Two fingers."

You whimper as you slick two of your fingers with your spit and rub them on your pussy lips, before entering yourself with a needy moan, head tilting sideways to burrow in the pillow. Your finger move slow but firm, drawing out the pleasure till you hear his tutt from the receiver.

"Is this how I fuck you, pipsqueak? Hmm?"

You shudder "Caleb-"

"Move the way my cock moves in you, pipsqueak. Go on... be good"

You bite your lips before you start thrust your fingers in faster, your back arching as the familiar pressure starts to build up in your belly.

"Calebcalebcalebcalebcaleb"

"Hmmm you're doing so well...but this isn't enough" he grunts, breathing heavily as the shlick shlick of him stroking his cock burns in your ears, "Put another finger in. I forget sometimes how tiny you are."

You whimper as you put another finger in, the added thickness stretching you almost as obscenely as his cock does, and he moans seeing you buck through the cameras.

"Just like that. Yes...fuck, look at you," he grunts as you moan loudly and unashamed "Look at my pussy stretching open for me. I don't even need to be there, and she obeys."

Your core quivers at his words as you crook your fingers to rub your g-spot.

"Yes, yes she is so obedient. She will be so good Caleb."

"Fuck," he whimpers as his cock throbs painfully, close to the edge as he watches you bring yourself to the brink.

The call dissolves into heavy breath and broken moans as you both cum together, the distance between you collapsing into something almost tangible, the red light of the camera blinking steadily overhead.

You pulse slows as the orgasm subsides, the tension bleeding out of your body as you slump back on the bed, wetness coating your core, your thighs and wrinkling your fingers as you pull them out.

"There," he murmurs thickly, and you can picture the way his jaw would unclench, the way his shoulders would drop at having satisfied you. "That's better. You were wound so tight I could see it from here."

You giggle. “Did I do that right?”

“Yes…so good.” He rasps “Such a good girl. My good girl.”

You preen happily at the praise, sighing contently as your body hums.

The silence that follows isn't empty- it's full of the thousand little things you'd say if you were in the same room. The way he'd pull you against his chest. The kiss he'd press to your hairline that would then travel down to your lips and the pulse in your throat. The impossible warmth of him, always running hotter than any normal person.

"Drink some water," he says eventually. "Then sleep. You have the panel tomorrow at nine."

You stretch, already reaching for the bottle on the nightstand. "You memorized my itinerary."

"Of course I did."

Of course he did. Because this is who he is- the man who would move heaven and earth and several international privacy laws just to catch a single glimpse of you. The man whose love came wrapped in military-grade surveillance equipment and unhinged devotion.

You settle back against the pillows, phone pressed to your ear, and watch that small red light blink in the darkness above you. Once. Twice. Steady and constant.