Chapter 34 #2
The back of his head blocked her view until he shifted, and one side of her body came into view.
She watched in fascination as his hand covered her breast. On the other side, still blocked from view by his head, he latched onto the other breast, sucking it into his mouth hard.
She gasped, and her knees jellied. While he suckled and licked and nipped, his fingers rolled her other nipple, tweaking and pinching.
She kept her eyes trained on what he was doing, fighting the temptation to let her head fall back.
Oh. My. God! Her body was transforming into a blazing Roman candle, her senses on overload. Her breaths came fast and shallow. Whether it was from his touch or the erotic charge she got from watching what he was doing, she couldn’t say. And she didn’t care.
Reflected in the mirror, her slim white fingers tunneled in his soft brown hair. He switched breasts, his mouth inflicting the same tortuous treatment on the other side while his fingers toyed with the one he’d just released.
Gently, he bit down on her nipple while his hands glided to the top of her skirt.
The button was quickly released, the fly unzipped, and the skirt forced apart.
His mouth still working over her breasts, he pushed the halter and skirt over her hips, down her legs, until they puddled at her feet.
She shot out a hand, steadying herself against the dresser.
His hands returned to her breasts, massaging, kneading, squeezing.
She noted dully that her skin looked pale compared to his and that his big hands on her made her body look small.
His mouth moved across her stomach, sending shivers dancing along her spine.
He ran the tip of his tongue along the top of her panties, then trailed kisses after.
A moment later, he rose up and was behind her once more, his unmistakable erection pressing against her ass.
Mouth on her neck, eyes on hers, his hands roved over her breasts, her rib cage, her stomach, her waist, her hips.
They landed on the straps of her lace panties.
He hooked his thumbs in the stringy bits, and just like her other clothing, he pulled them down in one long, deliberate motion.
Dropping into a crouch, he dragged them down to her ankles.
She still wore flats, and she toed them off, kicking them to one side.
He took his time standing upright, running his hands and tongue over the backs of her knees and thighs, covering her ass with soft bites and wet licks, lingering at the dimples he seemed so fond of, and finally up the channel of her back to the base of her neck.
She leaned her head against him and let out an extended sigh.
His hands skimmed her body and dove between the tops of her thighs, where they stroked and squeezed.
His thumbs, those talented thumbs, feathered over her mound and joined together to trace the length of her entrance, down, up, down, up, circling, teasing, supercharging the carnal chills racing through her body.
Bowing her back, she reached behind and buried her fingers in his thick strands.
“You’re not watching,” he whispered against her ear right before he nibbled her earlobe.
She blinked and focused on his eyes staring at her in the mirror.
Elbows in the air, arms behind her head as her fingers played with his hair, she reminded herself of a stretching cat.
His gaze wandered to his hands between her thighs, and hers followed.
Strong fingers nudged her legs apart. One hand cupped her while the other feathered its way up her body, pausing to tweak her nipples, until it reached her chin.
“Open,” he demanded softly.
Lost in a sex-filled pleasure daze, she opened her mouth.
He inserted his middle finger, and she sucked on it—hard—tongued it, hollowed her cheeks as he slid it in and out of her mouth.
His eyes blazed as he watched her in the mirror.
Her tongue flicked his index finger, and he ran it over her lips before inserting that one too.
“Killing me, Sunshine,” he groaned.
Good! Because you’ve reduced me to a quivering mass of nerves.
Out came his fingers with a wet pop, and he dropped them between her legs.
One finger entered her, slick and warm, then the other.
His free hand returned to her breasts. She closed her eyes and moaned as he slid his fingers in and out, in and out, her body humming with the sensations of his slow, steamy seduction.
He nipped her neck. “Open your eyes, babe.”
Her gaze landed first on his eyes, traveling to his calloused hand toying with her breasts, and finally to his fingers moving in and out of her. She arched again and began grinding against his hand at a leisurely tempo.
“Fuck, what a gorgeous sight you are,” he said reverently. “I could watch you every hour of every day and never get tired of it.”
She was on the verge of falling apart, and she didn’t want to go there alone.
Wordlessly, she dropped her arms to her sides and slid a hand behind herself to his waistband, inching inside his gym shorts, running her fingers along the length of his engorged cock, spreading moisture over its head with her thumb.
In the mirror, his eyes widened, then fluttered closed for an instant.
With her other hand, she caressed her breast, her eyes drilling into his as she pinched and rolled her nipple.
“Goddamn, Sunshine. You are so fucking sexy.”
He stepped up the pace between her legs. Oh … I … Oh! Her mouth parted, and her eyes glazed over, but she kept them fastened on his as she wrapped her fingers around his steely shaft and pumped in time to his fingers.
A look that was part-pain, part-pleasure twisted his features. He huffed out an “Oh God!” then seemed to get himself under control, determined fingers curling and sliding and tormenting. “Come for me, Sunshine,” he breathed. She dropped her hand from her breast to the dresser to steady herself.
Now it was her turn to toss out an “Oh God,” but it came out as a cry as she climbed her climax. Loosening her grip on him, she closed her eyes while she chased the top of the pinnacle and shattered into countless shards.
As she drifted back down, he corded his arms around her waist, his hands soothing her skin, his mouth plying soft kisses along her neck and shoulders.
She stared at herself in the mirror, then at him, bringing herself back to earth and the hall of mirrors. Her skin was flushed pink all over. “Oh my,” she muttered.
A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. “I’m liking this closet a helluva lot.”
She nodded her approval, then twisted in his arms. His hands cupped her ass, and his eyes darted over her shoulder. “This is a nice view too.”
Craning her head, she caught a glimpse of her bare backside, followed by different views in other mirrors as she swiveled her head. “Can’t say I’ve ever done this in a closet before. Definitely not one covered in mirrors.”
“Me neither.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked down at her, his eyes deep pools of desire.
Gripping the hem of his T-shirt, she lifted it up his torso, running her hands over smooth, carved muscle. “No? I would’ve thought this wasn’t new for you.”
He yanked the shirt over his head and pinned her with a bemused look. “No,” he said softly. “This is a first for me. You’re a first for me. Everything’s new with you.”
Oh. Tingly warmth puddled in her gut and spread up her chest, down her legs, ringing her middle.
She tugged on his shorts, and he pulled them down along with his boxers, freeing his very heavy, imposing erection.
He kicked off his clothes and his flip-flops and stood before her without a stitch on.
Now it was her turn to view his beautiful body from all angles, and she sucked in a breath.
As if her hands had a mind of their own, they began caressing him, and her eyes trailed after.
The man was fucking gorgeous. She walked a circle around him while he stood ramrod-straight, her hands never leaving his body.
While her fingers played over his skin, tracing scars, exploring, fondling, his eyes tracked her in the mirrors.
Taking his hands in hers, she walked backward, bringing him with her, until her knees bumped the ottoman. She dropped on her seat and peered up at him. “Watch.”
His lips quirked in a smile, but it slid off his face when she took him in her hand and guided his thick length to her mouth.
A kiss, a lick, a flick of her tongue, and she closed her lips around him while she kept her eyes fastened on him.
To her delight, he let out a loud hiss. His hands dropped to her shoulders, moved to her head, fingers burying themselves in her hair, his grip tightening as she sucked and nipped and swirled.
She fisted him in one hand while the other played with his balls.
Eyes closing, he dropped his head back and moaned. She stopped what she was doing. “Watch,” she purred.
“Yes, ma’am,” he choked. His eyes roamed around the mirrors but didn’t close. Instead, he muttered and gasped and cursed as her hands and mouth worked him. He thrust into her mouth with short, controlled strokes while he held her head in place.
His chest heaved, and his breathing grew more erratic, his thrusts more intense. Mutterings turned to low groans and grunts. His knees buckled and swayed. His balls tightened. He was close.
He clamped down on her head, stopping her. “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna come,” he warned in a guttural rasp.
“I know,” she murmured.
Liquid brown eyes darkened by desire widened, then fastened on hers.
She kept pumping and sucking and cupping.
His fingers dug into her scalp, his knees dipped, and he surged into her, his body convulsing as he came, his mouth moving but nothing coherent coming out.
She swallowed, drinking him down. Tense muscles eased, then he lifted her chin with his forefinger. “That was … that was …”
She blinked up at him.
“Fuck!” was all he could say.
“Is that ‘fuck’ in a good way or a bad way?”
He lowered himself onto the ottoman, tipping her over and dragging her beside him as he lay down. “Fucking amazing,” he sighed.
“Oh good. You had me worried for a sec, Sparky.” She held back a giggle and nestled against him.
His arms encircled her; he adjusted her head so it rested on his heart.
One hand held her in place against him. He was solid and hard-planed, and God, his warm, smooth skin felt like heaven against hers.
“You have nothing to worry about. Fuck, I’m not sure I’ve ever come so hard.” His thumb traced lazy patterns on her arm. “Your skin is so soft.”
His mind seemed to be bopping from one thought to the other, and she realized how much she loved following it—when she could keep up, that was. She craned her head to look at him. “There you go being adorable again. Now knock it off, or I won’t be able to give you your daily tongue-lashing.”
“Is that what you call it? A tongue-lashing? And I get one daily? Sweet! I promise to stop being adorable right now.”
She swatted his chest playfully. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it, you perv.”
“How does thinking of you with your mouth on my dick every single day make me a perv?” He laughed out loud. “I think it makes me normal.”
They lay quietly for a few minutes, and he seemed to drift off, so her eyes took a tour around the glittering space. A tickle in her tummy made her squirm. “Yeah, the mirrors definitely add to the eroticism,” she whispered to herself.
His chest rumbled, surprising her. “Mm-hmm. Wherever I live, I’m having one of these built.”
“For you and your—”
Looking down at her, he put a finger to her lips. “Would you stop? I’m not sharing a playroom with anybody but you.”
Oh. There came that warm, gooey sensation again.
His hand played with her hair, then drifted down her shoulder, her arm, coming to rest on her hip. It slid to her ass and stroked, tickling her. He cleared his throat. “Have you thought about all the different things we can do in this room?”
She let out a laugh. “Apparently, you have. Tell me what scenarios you’re picturing in that wicked brain of yours.”
He propped himself up on an elbow. With the back of his free hand, he caressed her cheek. Soon that hand was roaming over her chest, her belly, her inner thighs. “How about I show you instead of tell you?”