Chapter 29 Reflections
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
reflections
REY
It’s hard to believe this is real.
He’s here. Naked.
That big, handsome as hell man is here in my bed.
His lips are on my neck, and I’m throbbing not only from two orgasms in quick succession, but from the need to feel him inside me again.
I’ve never experienced this kind of want before.
Sex has always been more of a one-way street; my pleasure always secondary to the man’s, and I never had the confidence to ask for it.
But oh my fucking god, I am loving this. This is what sex is meant to be like.
And I want more.
I push up against him, relishing the feeling of that massive cock, so hard again already, pressing against my lower stomach.
My lips find his, and I brush my free hand down his muscled arm, his waist and to the throbbing manhood waiting for me.
My fingers don’t reach around it fully, and I don’t really know what the hell I’m doing with this huge dick in my hand, but I just want to touch it. He groans into my mouth.
“Rey.” Almost like a warning.
I let my palm caress the sensitive tip, cupping my hand and sliding it down as if my hand was a tight entrance. His head tilts back, and another sexy man-sound escapes him.
“Rey,” he says again, and moves my hand away with his.
“Was I doing something wrong?”
“No, it’s too good, and I told you I want to take my time with you,” he says, giving me a crooked smile. Paired with the hooded eyes, I’m about to come undone just from looking at his face.
“Give me a minute to clean up,” I say and rush to the ensuite. A groan behind me tells me he likes what he sees as I walk naked across the room, and it makes me feel on top of the world. I give him an extra little shake of my butt to another audible sound of appreciation.
I’m making Mark Becker groan. He was growling my name. The deep sound echoes in my head, interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a door slamming downstairs. Xander?
Shit.
I hurry out to check for further sounds, but the jaw-dropping sight of naked Mark on my bed immediately makes the rest of the world fall away.
I must have done something right in life to be allowed this. Even if it’s just for a while. I push away the thoughts of what comes after. The fear of feeling.
“Stop there,” he orders in that bossy voice of his, and it sends a jolt straight to my centre. Turns out I enjoy a demanding man more than I thought.
“Is that the mirror you were looking at yourself in when we talked on the phone?” He points to the full-size wall mirror next to the ensuite.
“It is.”
I’m suddenly feeling brave and powerful and slide my hand down the way he had demanded me to when we spoke. When it was just his voice in my ear. Now he’s in front of me, and his reaction is everything. His jaw is working hard, and his hazel eyes are nearly black.
“Do you remember what you told me to do?” I whisper and open my slit just the way he said to do. I had looked at my pink wet self and wondered what he’d think if he saw me.
Now I know.
His cock is rock hard and ready as he shifts to the side of the bed, not taking his eyes off my hand moving down there.
“Keep going,” he demands, and I move my fingers through my wet folds. “Good girl,” he rasps, and I moan at the praise.
I love it when he says that.
He bites his lip as he fists his cock.
“I’ve pictured you like this,” I say.
“What did Robin look like to you before today?” he asks. “Did you imagine I’d be this hard for you?”
“You are much more than I could ever imagine.”
He strokes his cock once more and then stands up. Somehow, naked, he feels larger than in his suit.
The broad, sculpted man takes up most of my vision as he stalks toward me like a sleek, giant cat, and he’s breathtaking. Also, a little bit scary.
But in a sexy way.
In the ‘he’s going to absolutely fuck my brains out and ruin men for me forever’ kind of way.
His warm hands clasp around my waist, and I shiver in anticipation. I’m so turned on I think I might faint. He drops his hands down to my hips and turns me around, so I’m facing the mirror.
“Look at you, so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against my neck while keeping eye contact in the mirror. I watch us; the hard, muscular man with a sprinkle of dark hair on his chest, and my gentle curves. We look good together. He cups my breasts and lets out what sounds like a growl.
“These tits are perfection,” he rasps, pressing me close to him now, his body warm on me, and his cock hard against my back. For the second time this evening, I’m so wet I’m sure it’ll be running down my thighs. A whimper escapes me as he rubs my hard nipples between his fingertips.
One of his hands lets go and travels down my stomach, while the other keeps working my nipple. His gaze is fierce on me in the mirror, and it intensifies when his hand trails down towards my centre. I shift my leg for him to access more of me.
“Patience,” he rumbles against the skin of my shoulder, and goosebumps erupt across my body.
“You’re killing me,” I say, and it comes out as a whine. “Touch me, fuck me again, please, Mark.”
His cock is so hard up against my back, and I can feel it pulsating. He’s got some serious self-control. More than I can say about myself. I grind against his fingers, desperate for contact in the right spot.
“Look at you,” he says. “Soaking for me.”
He opens my slit the way I did earlier, and the light brush of his touch over my sensitive front makes me shiver and mewl. It’s torturous when he’s not touching me where I need it.
“You have an absolutely perfect cunt.”
Oh, that filthy mouth.
“Please,” I plead, and finally he moves onto my throbbing clit.
“Ah,” I cry out. His fingers slide down while palming my clit.
He’s wound me up so much, the sensation of his gentle touch is intense.
It spreads. Warm waves of pleasure radiates through my body, building up inside me and I moan, leaning my head back against him.
He reaches my sensitive opening, wetting his fingers before he slides back up.
The friction of his hand on my needy skin—moving up and down, touching all the areas I need him to as if he can read my mind—makes me unravel in his arms. He goes faster, riding out my orgasm while he holds the quivering mess of me tight.
There’s a scream lingering in the air after, and I realise it must be mine. I see my reflection in the mirror. Red cheeks, mouth open. So fucking satisfied.
“Bloody hell,” I say, and he chuckles against the nape of my neck.
“Ready for me again, Rey?”
“Yes, please,” I whisper.
He grips my hip hard and pushes my front down with a firm hand on the top of my back.
I follow his lead, leaning forward onto the door frame, and shift my legs for him.
Then I feel the tip of that massive cock as he lines it up with my opening.
Seeing his face in the mirror is such a turn-on. He’s hyper-focused on me.
He inches inside, grips both my hips, and buries himself deep with a deliciously animal-like groan. I meet his eyes in the reflection and keep looking at him as he thrusts into me with raw need. My tits are jiggling with our motion, and it’s the first time I feel sexy while so exposed.
His expression is everything I need.
Watching him watching us in the mirror and then looking down at where he’s entering me, burying himself to the hilt with low, sexy groans, it’s the most satisfying sight.
He bends and massages a breast, still holding me tight with the other hand. Then he moves his hand down and starts circling my clit. My mind is swimming. I’ve never felt this much before. He’s filling me to the brim, his hands are in the right places, and his warm skin against my back.
I can feel his cock swelling inside me, stretching me even more than before. He’s everywhere, inside and on me, in my head and body—it’s so intense. The sounds of him slapping against me and growling my name. Every thrust takes me closer, and closer.
“Hold me, I’m coming,” I whimper, and he grips my hips hard, thrusting deeper, rougher, filling the room with the sounds of my wetness and his body slamming into mine.
As I hear and feel him unravelling, losing control of his movements, the pleasure crescendos with an intensity beyond belief, and I cry out.
I’m shaking and tingling, and the warmth explodes through my bloodstream, like every nerve ending has been lit up.
My legs have stopped working, and I know it’s only because he’s holding me tightly that I’m not falling over.
But fuck it if I’m not falling in every other way.