CHAPTER 17 #3
“Oh? Let me see.” At last, she wrapped her fingers around his length. “This monster?”
He grunted as she stroked him. “That would be the one.”
He bent his head to kiss her. No sooner had his lips touched hers than her phone buzzed on his nightstand. Her hand stilled as she turned her head at the same time he did to see the doctor’s face fill the screen.
No fucking way.
He clenched his jaw. “Could this be about your mother?”
“No.”
She let it ring.
He waited for it to stop, but when it did, a text immediately appeared, and Ian read it before he could stop himself.
Jake: Still waiting patiently.
Five seconds later, another text flashed on the screen.
Jake: Miss you. Call me.
Ian’s gut twisted.
Calmly, Claire leaned over Ian’s torso to pick up the iPhone, switched it to silent, and turned it face down. “Where were we?” Her voice had a strange pitch.
An awkward silence descended on the room.
He tipped her chin up with his thumb and index finger, forcing her to meet his gaze. “What is he waiting for?”
She swallowed and didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to. He saw it clearly in her eyes. She was still seeing that guy, who waited in the wings for his turn in her bed. Damn Alexis for planting that idea in Claire’s head.
Was Claire considering it?
Ian gritted his teeth. He didn’t have the right to ask. Hell, he was lucky she’d agreed to see him in the first place, and right now, it was he who had her in his bed.
Taking a deep breath, he slipped the tip of his thumb between her parted lips, groaning when she immediately opened, as always, and began to suck. He swallowed hard as she nipped him, sending a pulse arrowing straight to his groin.
“Turn around.”
She knew exactly what he wanted. He’d driven her wild that way in Vegas, and now he knew he could do it even better. He waited in silence, watching, feeling the blood rush hotter and harder as she slowly settled on her hands and knees and arched her back, the pose impossibly erotic.
With one finger, he traced the graceful curve of her spine. “This is all I thought of when you were on that Jet Ski behind me, driving me insane. You, naked, just like—”
“Like this?” she whispered breathlessly, looking back at him over her shoulder.
“Exactly like that. Wait. Don’t move.”
Sliding off the mattress, he strode across the room, lifted the giant mirror off the wall, and carried it to a settee next to the bed, positioning it at just the right angle.
She tipped her head with a little smile. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you a different perspective.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it, her expression growing sultry as she stared, transfixed, into the mirror, watching him come up to kneel behind her and ease forward, slowly sliding his hands along her sides, then higher to graze the swell of her breasts with his thumbs.
“Do you see us, Claire?”
She started to close her eyes, but he fisted a handful of her beautiful red hair and gently tugged, his other hand anchoring her hip.
“Do you see us?”
She nodded, her breaths coming in shallow pants.
“Eyes on mine.”
Recognition dawned on her face. He’d said that to her in Vegas, with mind-blowing effect.
He waited until she refocused on the mirror.
“Watch.” He pressed a kiss to her lower back, making her begin to shift restlessly, her breasts swaying with the movement. Leaning over her, he gripped them, then he was everywhere, across her back, against her backside, her breasts filling his hands.
He ran his thumbs over her nipples, simultaneously nudging at her entrance.
Her breaths grew ragged along with his.
“No barriers, nothing between us. Just you”—he entered her, just barely —“and me.”
No one else.
A gorgeous flush spread across her lovely face. Her luminous eyes locked on his in the mirror, her hair a silken copper curtain over her shoulder.
Ian looked from the mirror to the sight before him, then back at their reflection. She was so beautiful from every goddamned angle, and his throat spasmed with something strange that made it close.
He’d never wanted her more.
“Watch what I do to you.” His voice was raw. “And what you do to me.” In one smooth thrust, he pushed into her, drawing a satisfying sigh from her parted lips.
He went deep. Very deep.
Claire fisted the sheets, her breaths harsh enough for him to hear.
He stayed like that for a good few seconds. “How badly do you want me?” He felt her clench around him once, hard.
“Badly.” She drew her tongue over her lips. “So badly.”
And still, he didn’t move. Until Claire started shaking, and he felt her muscles squeezing his shaft rhythmically, her hand reaching back to tap his thigh as if desperately urging him to start some sort of motion. “Ian,” she whispered.
Yes. My name.
Seizing her hips, Ian set a hard, fast pace, watching her in the mirror as he took her, her face, her hair, her swaying breasts, catching her every reaction as he drove into her, again and again.
Each pass upped the sensation. He let his eyes drift closed, abandoning himself to the feel.
Just the feel.
The physical.
He couldn’t let himself feel anything more.