Her eyes went huge. “N—no.”
“I think you’d love that,” he growled, turning her until she faced the mirror. He pushed her slightly forward, guiding her hands to the barre. He caught her wrists and pressed themthere, holding her there easily with one hand. “You know I could put you in cuffs for real,” he murmured against her ear. “You ever been fucked in cuffs, Lily?” He scraped her ear lightly with his teeth.
“No,” she whispered, her breathing picking up. She didn’t pull away. If anything, her body arched closer.
Her reflection stared back at them, face sex-flushed, lips parted, eyes wide with something between nerves and excitement. Behind her, he towered over her, a sharp contrast between his dark sheriff uniform and her delicate dancer’s body. A rush of pure, primal lust seared through him.
He bent close to her ear. “I want to protect you and fucking tear you apart at the same time.”
Her breath caught while she stared at him in the mirror.
Rush pressed his palm to her chest. “You have to breathe, Lily,” he ordered.
He tilted her head back to rest against his chest and kissed her. He tasted her slowly at first, coaxing, savoring the sweetness of her response. Her full lower lip trembled before he caught it between his teeth and sucked until she whimpered, melting against him.
“Open that pretty mouth, Lily.” His thumb swept over her lip, and she shivered, parting for him until he saw the flash of her pink tongue and her small white teeth. It made him crazy, remembering the sounds she’d made last night with his mouth between her thighs—how she’d writhed, begging, until he’d coaxed that sweet release from her right there on his kitchen counter.
He angled her chin up higher and kissed her, deeper, with nothing gentle about it now. He claimed her, demanding she meet him the way he wanted—lips and teeth and tongue, until they were both panting.
His hands skimmed down to her hips, catching the restlessgrind of her body back against his aching cock. He stilled her with a low growl then rolled forward, pressing the hard length of himself into the curve of her ass.
She gasped, her body jerking against the barre.
Any other man might have backed off or treated her like a lady. He was sure that fucking ex of hers hadn’t pushed Lily’s boundaries the way he did, but Lily didn’t need polite. She needed fucking. She was soaking wet for him, grinding back against him like she couldn’t get enough of the way he tested her limits. That’s what she wanted, and that’s what he could give her.
“Feel that,” he murmured against her ear, tightening his grip to grind against her harder. “That’s what you do to me.”
She whimpered, her hands fluttering at the barre, her body hot and desperate against him. Every shift dragged her damp heat against him, burning him even through his trousers. The thin barrier of tights and bodysuit was no match for how wet she was. He felt her slick warmth, and the knowledge that she was soaking wet made him throb painfully.
One of his hands slid up from her hip to yank her neckline down, freeing both perfect, flushed breasts into his palms. Her nipples were gorgeous, tight in the cool air, begging for his mouth. “Fucking perfect,” he murmured reverently, pinching the taut, straining peak while he watched in the mirror.
His other hand shoved her top down, dragging her tights and skirt down just far enough to cinch around her thighs, far enough until he could slip his fingers down to her mound and into her soaked cleft. He circled her clit with the heel of his hand. “Dripping for me, just from playing with your tits,” he groaned.
Her cry echoed in the studio, and her hips writhed back against him uncontrollably.
He withdrew his hand and stepped up behind her, jerkingopen his belt and freeing his cock. “You want more?” he rasped, staring at her in the mirror.
Lily bucked backward, her naked breasts bouncing and sending him over the edge. “Yes.”
“Then keep those pretty eyes open,” he growled, lining his cock up with her entrance and pushing into her from behind. The tights bound her legs together, making her squeeze him even tighter. He gritted his teeth, his throbbing cock inside her, and held still, letting her adjust to him. “And watch.”
He gave her slow, lazy thrusts, dragging his cock through her slick heat, pulling out almost all the way before sinking back in again. The friction made them both shudder.
The mirror gave him everything—her breasts bouncing with each thrust, her wrists held in his hands at the barre. Her eyes closed, lips parted on a silent moan.
“Eyes open,” he ordered, snapping his hips forward. One hand found her clit, the other her breast, and he thrust harder. Her body rocked between his hand and his cock, seesawing until she was on her tiptoes, thrusting back against him hard, taking him deeper, wetter, faster. The sound of their bodies filled the studio, filthy and hot.
Her reflection was wrecked now. No, not wrecked. Gorgeous—red swollen lips, wild hair tumbling around her shoulders, eyes wide as she met her own gaze. “Watch yourself come.”
Dimly, he wondered if she saw herself the way he did. Strong, stunning. Every inch the woman who took him apart without trying.
“Oh,” she gasped, eyes squeezed closed. “I can’t—I’m going to?—”
Her release ripped through her with a shuddering sob, her body clenching so tight he swore. Rush held her steady, playingwith her breasts gently until she sagged back against him, spent and trembling.
He kissed her bare shoulder then chased his own release with several deep thrusts before spilling deep inside her with a groan. For a long moment, he stayed curved over her, trying to catch his breath, their sated reflections still staring back.
She sank to the floor, the tights bunched around her knees.
