He didn’t wait for me to finish before he pushed off the doorframe with barely contained fury. The muscles in his jaw clenched. Released. Clenched again.
But he didn’t come to me. Not yet. Instead, he yanked the full-length mirror from its standing position in the corner, propped it against the wall behind the desk so harshly, the glass rattled in its frame. Only then did he reach down, his large hands gripping my arms, pulling me to standing, and as he did, his touch burned through my skin, leaving trails of heat in its wake.
“You were horrible to yourself.” The words came out rough, broken. He looked at me the way he’d look at anyone who dared hurt me. Except the enemy this time was my own reflection. “How could you not see how perfect you are?”
His hands found the hem of my tank top. The fabric whispered against my skin as he pulled it over my head. Cool air kissed my bare shoulders. He repeated the motion with my sweats, then my panties, each piece of clothing falling away like old insecurities. Until I stood naked. Exposed. Vulnerable in a way that had nothing to do with lacking clothes.
“Look at yourself.”
I swallowed hard and looked at the woman in the mirror. At the shirtless man behind her, his chest covered in intricate black ink that seemed to move with each breath. A phoenix wrapped around his ribs. Thorns and roses climbed his shoulder. All of it flexing with barely controlled need.
“This throat …” Still standing behind me, Axel drew his fingertips up my neck. The touch was featherlight, tender. My pulse jumped beneath his fingers. “I’ve watched you throw your head back when you laugh. Watched it flush pink when you’re shy.” His breath warmed my ear. “This collarbone.” His fingers traced its delicate line. “I’ve imagined kissing it a thousand times.”
Goose bumps erupted across my skin and every nerve ending sparked to life, hungry for more.
His hand moved lower, cupping my breast. “These are perfect. The way they fit in my palms. The way your nipples harden just from my breath on your neck.”
As if to prove his point, he exhaled slowly against my shoulder. My body responded instantly.
He squeezed my nipple between his fingers inciting a sharp pleasure-pain that made me gasp.
“How dare you not see them as perfect?”
His palm flattened against my stomach, the heat of it searing. “This stomach.” His voice caught, just barely, and his fingers spread wider against my skin. The words that came next were quieter. “Beautiful. Perfect.”
But he didn’t move his hand. Not yet. His thumb traced a small, unconscious circle just below my navel, where a baby would grow if I ever became pregnant, and when I looked up at him, something flickered in his eyes. A question he wasn’t ready to ask, maybe wasn’t even aware of yet. The moment stretched between us, heavy with unspoken possibility.
Then he blinked, and his hand continued its journey while the ghost of that touch lingered, along with everything he hadn’t said.
But coherent thought scattered as his hand traveled lower. His eyes never left mine in the mirror, dark and intense, as his fingers slipped between my folds. I was already wet. Already aching.
“Lift your leg.” The command rumbled through his chest, where it pressed against my back. “Put your foot on the chair.”
I obeyed, placing my foot on the chair to my right. The position left me completely exposed. Vulnerable. Open.
“Look how perfect and pink and glistening you are.” His fingers traced my entrance slowly. Torturously. “Look at how wet you get for me. How your body knows exactly what it wants.”
I’d never examined myself like this. Never had the courage. But through Axel’s eyes, I saw something different. Something beautiful. The shame I’d carried for so long began to crack and fall away.
He pushed two fingers inside me. Slowly. Letting me feel every inch. My thigh quivered, and heat coiled tight in my belly, spreading outward like wildfire.
“Look at how you take me, Sunshine.” His voice was pure gravel now. Pure need. “So tight. So warm. Like you were made for me.”
He pushed deeper, curling his fingers to hit that spot that made stars explode behind my eyes. With his free hand, hecupped my breast, thumb circling my nipple, while his lips found my shoulder, his teeth grazing my skin between kisses.
“Say it,” he commanded, pumping his fingers faster. “Say you’re perfect.”
My head fell back against his shoulder and my legs shook.
He stopped moving. Bit down on my shoulder hard enough to sting. “Say. It.” He grabbed my chin with his free hand, forcing my gaze back to the mirror. “Watch yourself when you say it.”
“I’m perfect,” I whispered.
His eyes narrowed. “Not good enough, Sunshine.”
He withdrew his fingers. My body clenched around nothing, aching with loss. But suddenly, he was on his knees in front of me. His mouth replaced his fingers, tongue circling that bundle of nerves before sucking hard.
I gasped., and when my hips bucked forward, he gripped my thighs, spreading them wider. From this angle, turned slightly toward the mirror, I could watch everything. His dark hair between my legs. The flex of his shoulders. His tongue disappearing inside me.
