Chapter 16 #3
She whimpered, her back arching and that perfect ass pressing back into me. She was trying, so fucking hard, to stay quiet. To keep her dignity, to fight me for it, but I wanted her raw and shaking and desperate.
Her free hand flew to my wrist, nails biting into my skin, like she could hold back the inevitable if she just held on tight enough.
I let her have it for a second, let her think she could control anything, then I twisted my wrist and spread her wider, just enough to get two fingers slick and deep inside her.
“Are you always this wet for me?” I kept my other hand fisted in her hair, made sure she couldn’t look away, couldn’t hide from the way her body gave her up.
I started to move my fingers, savoring every shake and ripple that ran through her.
She tried to brace herself against the counter, but I crowded her harder so she was trapped between the sink and the full length of my body.
I slid my fingers out of her, spreading her wetness over her clit, and her body rolled helplessly into my touch.
“Fuck. I want to see you.” My hand left her only long enough to yank her shorts and panties down her legs, letting the fabric drop uselessly to the floor.
I planted one hand low on her belly, pressing her tightly against me, then gripped the soft underside of her thigh and lifted her leg up until her foot rested on the edge of the counter. She trembled as I spread her wide so the mirror caught every slick, swollen inch of her pussy.
Our eyes met in the mirror, both of us watching the way my fingers parted her, too helpless to look away.
“Look how fucking pretty you are for me.” I gripped her thigh harder, spreading her wider, and her skin blushed where my fingers dug in.
My fingers spread her open, and she was so wet, my cock ached at the sight.
I ran my fingers through her, dragging every bit of wetness up so she could see it, so she couldn’t lie to herself about what I did to her.
My other hand twisted tighter in her hair, refusing to let her look away from what we’d made together.
Her thighs quivered as I circled her clit, and she whimpered, the sound raw and so out of control. Her reflection was a fever dream. Cheeks flushed, eyes desperate, head thrown back against my chest, and sweat painting her skin.
“That’s it,” I rasped in her ear, my grip tightening on her thigh until I felt her shiver. “Keep your eyes on me.”
I could feel exactly how close she was, feel it in the way she kept clenching around my fingers like she could pull me deeper, like her body had given up negotiating and was just taking what it wanted.
I curled my fingers deeper and ground my palm slow and hard against her clit, and watched her mouth fall open on a sound she couldn’t swallow fast enough.
“Christ.” I dragged my mouth up the side of her throat, watching her in the mirror the whole time. “You’re so damn beautiful. Look how good we are together.”
Her pussy clenched around my fingers, and I had to close my eyes for a second just to hold myself together.
“This pussy is mine. Isn’t it?”
Her lips parted and her whole body shuddered, hips grinding down onto my hand like she couldn’t help it, like her body had already answered before her mouth could.
“You are mine, Maggie,” I said, quieter this time as I pumped my fingers in and out of her.
Another stroke, and she cried out so loudly that I was sure they could hear her outside.
“If you want to keep us a secret for now, that’s fine.” I pulled my fingers out of her and pressed my soaking fingertips to her clit, rubbing tight, fast circles against her as her hips chased the movement. “But you’re done talking to Brody.”
She arched back into me, the curve of her ass grinding against my cock so hard I saw stars.
The mirror caught both of us, locked together, mouths open and wild, and there wasn’t a single inch of her that wasn’t begging for more.
I stroked her clit, rough and fast, fingers relentless, and she braced a hand on the counter.
God, she was so fucking beautiful.
I pressed my thumb harder against her clit, grinding relentless circles while my fingers curled inside her tight, greedy pussy. I wanted to drown in her, to keep her like this forever, open and frantic for me.
I used her own thigh to brace her wide, holding her steady as I fucked her with my fingers, rough and tender all at once. Every time she clenched around me, a filthy blush crawled up her chest and into her face, blooming wild and beautiful.
She caught my eyes in the mirror, pleading for more, and I would have given her anything she wanted.
But what I wanted, more than anything in the fucking world, was to hear her say the words out loud. No armor, no games, just the truth of it echoing between us.
“Tell me you’re mine,” I bit out, my hand flexing on her thigh. “Tell me you’re done with Brody.”
“I’m yours.” Her voice broke, needy and raw. “Only yours.”
“Good girl,” I growled, and stroked her clit hard and fast, fucking her until she broke.
Her whole body went tense, bowing in my grip, and she watched herself fall apart in the mirror, watched me work her with the roughness we both craved. When it hit her, it was like a fuse burning straight through her.
“Hunter.” A guttural, desperate moan clawed up her throat as she wrapped a hand behind my neck, and her thigh bucked in my hold, fighting for every scrap of friction.
I held her there, thigh braced wide, my fingers fucking her through the kind of orgasm that stripped away every bit of armor she hid behind.
She shook against me, her whole body bowstring-tight, pussy clamped so hard around my fingers I almost lost my own grip.
The way she fell apart was pure chaos, clawing my wrist, bracing hard against my neck as if she could somehow pull me closer.
I pressed my mouth to her neck, breathing her in, and the need to ruin her for anyone else burned so wild at the back of my throat I had to steady both of us against the counter.
She was panting, her eyes locked on mine in the mirror, and I forced myself to slow down, to feel every shiver, every pulse, every raw and perfect tremble that rolled through her.
I’d never wanted anything the way I wanted her, the ache of it deeper than hunger. It was bone deep and wild, refusing to be quieted, no matter how many times I tried to bury it under the right words or a teasing smile.
I softened my grip and slid her leg down off the counter, letting her foot find the tile while the rest of her slumped into me, boneless and shaky and perfect.
I turned her toward me and cupped her face in both hands.
I kissed her, and her hands grabbed at me like maybe I was just as much hers as she was mine.
I bent her backward against the sink, her hair spilling out over my hands as I kissed her deeper, like I could memorize the shape of her mouth and carry it with me for the rest of my life.
“You are mine,” I whispered against her lips before I pulled back just enough to see her face. I kissed her again, softer this time, like I was trying to be careful with something I already knew I’d burn the world down for.
It wasn’t just want. It was the way she made the world go quiet.
The way her laughter had a way of finding the restless thing in my chest and settling it down.
I didn’t just want her body. I wanted to be the one she called when something went wrong, wanted to sit across from her at breakfast and lose arguments I didn’t care about winning.
I wanted all of it. Every sharp edge. Every wall she’d built and every crack in it she’d let me find.
She was the only place I’d ever felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.