Nodding, as if solidifying something in his mind, he steps across the room to reach for my floor-length mirror and he slidesit across the carpet to prop it against the wall in front of me. As he moves to stand behind me, his hands slide up from the curve of my hips to let his arms wrap around my shoulders. His lips meet my temple, gentle but firm.
“Look at her,” he says of the woman facing me in the mirror. He frees one hand only for a moment to pull the clip from my hair. “Look at her and tell her how fucking beautiful she is.”
I don’t, because right now I don’t feel beautiful. I feel puffy and irritated and defeated, and all I want to do is to get into our bed and watch a movie until tomorrow comes and I can wash my hands of this feeling.
A new slate, where the insecurities that ruled my every thought a lifetime ago can go back to being a thing of the past.
Tripp kisses my neck, sucking at my skin just before he pulls away. His hands move toward the tie of the robe, and I reach for his wrists as he tugs at the ends.
“Stop,” I whisper.
“Not until you look at her,” he argues. “Not until you appreciate her the way I do.”
As the robe falls open and I’m faced with my body, dressed in only a bra and a pair of underwear, my jaw hardens. Tripp’s hands land at my hips, slowly following the soft curve of my body as he stares at the reflection ahead of us.
Not studying;admiring.
“Do you know how many men spentyearsof their lives trying to carve a body like this out of stone?” His lips meet my shoulder as he pulls my robe from my body, sliding it down my arms and letting it drop onto the floor. “When you tell me you don’t like this body, you’re insulting a masterpiece.”
That same old step creaks under Connor’s weight to announce his presence as he treks up toward our bedroom. Stopping in the doorway, he surveys the two of us, scanning upand down the length of my body. Unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, he cocks his head to the side, raising a questioning brow.
“We’re not leaving by seven,” he teases.
“Our wife doesn’t think she looks good,” Tripp explains. I melt against his hands as they travel across my back to unclasp my bra. “I think she could use a confidence boost.”
“Tripp—”
My bra falls to the floor before I can protest, my husband’s hands moving to massage into my breasts as Connor approaches us, loosening his dress shirt and pulling the hem of it out from behind his waistband.
The corner of his mouth quirks as he scans the length of my body, using his chin to gesture toward the mattress behind me. Stepping toward it, one hand pulls open the leather belt around his hips, the other bracing his body as it drops onto the surface.
Accepting his silent invitation, I follow his path, pivoting my body as his hands rest at the curve of my hips. His lips melt against my skin as he presses them to my lower back, his fingers sliding my panties off of my hips and his voice muffled when he speaks.
“Make my day and be nice and loud for us, okay, Princess?” His question is punctuated with a soft kiss that contrasts with his touch as he lowers me onto his lap.
Hands trail down the lengths of my thighs, spreading them apart, and Connor’s lips meet my neck as Tripp lowers himself between them. My husband’s hands glide slowly from my ankles to my knees as he presses soft, teasing kisses to the insides of my thighs. His featherlight touch sends warmth through my belly, forcing a contented sigh as Connor’s hands cup my breasts to knead into my flesh.
Tripp kisses his way up my body, and when he reaches my breast, he offers a broad stroke of his tongue across my nipple before pulling it into his mouth. I shudder when his teeth lightlygraze the sensitive peak, but he’s painting my skin with pleasure, and I never want him to leave it.
His tongue and his lips only stop when his nose finally rests against mine. My eyelids grow heavy as his hands slide across the skin of my thighs.
“Keep those eyes on the mirror, baby,” he whispers.
My hand tangles into the neatly-styled hair at the back of his head as our mouths crash together, and a soft moan slips from my lips as Connor’s hand slides between my legs to tease my pussy, his fingers carefully spreading me open as if he’s plating Tripp’s meal for him.
My husband takes his time kissing his way back down the length of my body, every inch of my skin on fire, torn between vulnerability and a desperate, aching need while they toy with me.
With every pull of suction against my neck, every roll of my nipple between Connor’s fingers and every soft breath against my skin, my heart beats faster in my chest.
As Tripp’s tongue finally slides between my lips, I gasp, locking eyes with myself in the mirror.
“Let me get a taste of her,” Connor orders.
Obeying his demand, my husband raises himself from his knees to take hold of Connor’s head, meeting him in a fervent kiss that sends heat pouring down my spine.
With Connor’s cock swelling beneath me, Tripp lowers himself again, diving into me with long strokes of his tongue. He pushes my thighs to bring my feet to his shoulders while my nipples are carefully rolled between the pads of our partner’s fingers.
Suction sends my head flying backward with a moan as Tripp pulls my clit into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with the tip of his tongue, and I watch in the mirror as his body shifts in response.
