She lets out a frustrated sound and grabs my shirt, popping a button.
“Stop talking and fuck me, Becker.”
I don’t need to be told twice.
I free my cock from my pants, hard and aching with need for her.
I thrust into her in one sharp, deep stroke.
Sloane cries out—a high, startled sound I immediately silence by crushing my mouth against hers.
“Shhh,” I whisper against her lips as I start to move. “You want us to get caught? You want them to see me fucking you?”
She shakes her head frantically, biting my lower lip, her eyes glossy with lust.
I drive into her fast, almost brutally.
It’s been too long.
There’s need. There’s hunger. I’ll never get enough of Sloane Heart.
I need to feel her as mine. I need to wipe every other thought from her brilliant, complicated mind until there’s nothing left but me.
“You’re so tight,” I growl through clenched teeth. “Fuck, Sloane—you’re perfect.”
She clings to my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin through my shirt.
“More…” she moans against my shoulder. “Cohen, more…”
I give her exactly that.
I grab one of her legs, slide it completely out of the bunched fabric, and hook it over my shoulder, opening her wider—driving deep, right into that spot that makes her lose her mind.
Sloane throws her head back, staring up at the ceiling, her mouth open in a silent scream.
Her body clenches around me in delicious spasms, squeezing, coaxing, begging.
I keep watching her in the mirror as I fuck her, seeing her ice-queen mask melt away completely.
I feel her getting close. Her breathing turns broken, hitching.
I slide my hand between our bodies, finding her swollen, slick clit. I rub it with my thumb, matching the rhythm of my thrusts.
“Come for me, Angel,” I murmur. “I want to hear you say my name.”
Sloane goes rigid, her entire body bowing tight.
“Cohen!” she cries, muffled against my neck.
I feel her come apart around me—strong, pulsing contractions that shred the last scraps of my control.
I growl, burying my face in the hollow of her neck, and let go, spilling into her with a force that leaves my bones hollow.
We stay like that for an endless minute.
My forehead pressed to hers, our heavy breaths tangling together. Our hearts pound in sync, wild and frantic in the silence of the fitting room.
Her hair is plastered to her forehead, her lips swollen, her eyes still hazy with pleasure.
