My hands clawed at the wall, knuckles white, knees trembling. He slid one hand up the back of my thigh, thumbpressing into the crease, the other still keeping me open, on display, nothing hidden from the mirror or his gaze.
He took his time, worshipping me, tongue swirling around my rim, then stabbing deep, then pulling back to suck, making the whole world shrink to the tight, desperate clench of muscle around his mouth. I watched my own face in the glass, watched my mouth fall open, watched my eyes roll back every time he flicked his tongue just right.
Evan’s mouth left me open and slick, spit cooling on my skin, but he didn’t step away. I felt his hands move—one steady on my hip, the other fishing for the lube he’d left on the dresser just within reach. The sound of the cap popping sent a hot shiver through me. I pressed my forehead harder to the wall, still watching my own ruined, needy face reflected back at me, chest flushed, jaw slack with wanting.
I heard Evan’s low, rough voice—words tumbling out half on a groan, half on a prayer. “Gonna give you everything, Nate. Want you to see just how much.”
He slicked his fingers, then reached between us, the sudden cold shock of lube making me gasp. He eased one thick finger inside, twisting, circling, then two—scissoring me open, pressing against that spot that made my toes curl and my vision blur. I couldn’t take my eyes off the mirror, couldn’t stop watching the way my body arched for him, desperate to be filled.
He took his time, adding a third finger, then a fourth, making sure I was ready, making sure I knew he’d never hurt me, never rush what we’d both been craving for so long. The stretch was perfect, just on the edge of too much, and when he added his pinky, working all five fingers into me, I saw myself tremble, sweat beading at my temples.
“Want you loose for me,” Evan rasped, watching my every reaction in the glass. He spread me wide, fingers flexing, making me feel empty and owned and so, so fucking ready.
When he finally pulled out, the emptiness was a promise—a threat. I whimpered, pushing back, my hands flexing against the plaster. He grabbed my hips, pressing his thick cock between my cheeks, dragging the slick head along my rim, painting me with lube and spit. I looked at myself in the mirror—red-cheeked, mouth open, eyes blown wide, my ass flexing as Evan lined up behind me.
He paused, one hand gripping the nape of my neck, the other guiding himself right where I needed him. “Watch me, Nate. Watch us.” His words came out low, nearly a growl, and he nudged my head up so I couldn’t look away from the mirror, from the image of my own hungry, stretched body and the massive, glistening length of him about to split me open.
The pressure built, slow at first—he pushed forward, inch by inch, thick head stretching me, forcing me to open, to take him. I watched my own face twist, eyes wide, lips parted in a gasp as Evan breached me. He groaned, deep and wrecked, voice a thunder against my ear.
“So tight for me, sweetheart. Taking me so good. Look how you stretch.”
I did. I watched the way my body swallowed him, how my hole gripped the wide shaft, how Evan’s hips shuddered as he slid inside, pausing to let me breathe, let me feel the full, perfect stretch. My knuckles went white on the wall, and my knees almost buckled. He was huge, so thick it bordered on pain, but the lube and his patience made it burn in the best way.
He rocked forward, working his way deeper, hips pressed flush to my ass, body hard and hot behind me. His hand slid up my spine, palm wide and warm between my shoulder blades, keeping me upright and steady. His other hand dug into my hip, pulling me back onto him, forcing me to take every inch.
I watched in the mirror, transfixed by the sight of Evan’s cock disappearing inside me, by the way my ass gripped him,by the way I arched and shuddered, body flushed and shaking with need. He moved slowly at first, letting me get used to him, rolling his hips in tight, controlled thrusts that made me gasp and moan, every movement visible in the reflection.
“See yourself?” he whispered, lips right by my ear. “See how you take me? Nobody’s ever going to make you look like this. Nobody but me.”
I couldn’t answer. All I could do was moan, watching myself fall apart, feeling the thick, relentless drag of his cock against my walls, the deep ache of being stretched and filled so perfectly. I pushed back, greedy for more, loving the way he filled me up, loved the obscene, beautiful image of myself—face wild, ass spread wide, Evan owning me with every inch.
He started to move faster, his rhythm picking up, hips slapping against my ass, every thrust a jolt of pleasure that made my cock slap up against my belly, leaking, smearing precome across my skin. I saw his face in the mirror, too—jaw tight, sweat running down his temples, eyes black with hunger as he watched himself fuck into me.
He wrapped an arm around my chest, hauling me upright, my back pressed to his broad chest, his cock buried deep. His other hand cupped my jaw, forcing my head to turn just enough to see both our faces reflected. He held me there, locked in place, pinned to the wall and to the mirror, his body a cage of heat and muscle.
“You feel that?” he rasped, voice trembling with restraint. “You feel how deep I am? Nobody else gets to see you like this. Nobody else gets to touch you here.”
I nodded, whimpering, lost to the stretch and fullness, the filthy pride of being watched—of being owned. My legs trembled, sweat slicking the backs of my knees, every nerve ending alight.
He thrust deeper, slow and relentless, making sure I could see everything—the way my hole stretched for him, the way his cock glistened with lube and slick, the way his body dwarfed mine in the glass. He bent, teeth grazing my neck, tongue lapping at the sweat there.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured. “So perfect. Never gonna let you go.”
He rocked his hips, grinding deep, holding me pinned so I had to take every inch, had to feel him pressed up against places inside me no one had ever reached. My hands scrabbled for purchase, palms flat on the glass, forehead pressed beside my own reflection.
He pulled out almost all the way, then slammed back in, making me yelp, the pleasure burning bright and sharp. He did it again, and again, building a slow rhythm, hips rolling, cock dragging over every sensitive spot. I watched my face contort, watched sweat drip down my spine, watched Evan’s eyes fixed on mine in the mirror, wild with possession.
My knees started to give out, but he caught me, arms strong and unyielding, never letting me fall, never letting me stop watching the way he claimed me. He mouthed at my neck, tongue tasting my skin, lips dragging down to my shoulder, then biting, marking me as his.
I never wanted it to end. Never wanted to stop seeing myself like this—fucked open, worshipped, owned, loved.
He slowed, holding still, letting me feel him pulse inside me, cock twitching with need. His hand cupped my cheek, thumb stroking my jaw.
“You belong to me,” he whispered, and I believed him.
Evan didn’t let me linger against the wall for long. He wrapped one massive arm around my waist, the other hooking under my thighs, and in a single, powerful movement, he lifted me up and away from the mirror. I wrapped my arms aroundhis neck, legs tight around his hips, feeling his cock still buried inside me, still so thick and hard it made my breath hitch every time he shifted his grip.
He carried me across the room, every step a reminder of his strength, the way his body dwarfed mine, the way I was completely at his mercy and loving every second. He lay me back onto the bed, never letting go, guiding me down until my back hit the sheets and he could look down at me—sweaty, open, flushed, trembling. For a moment, he just hovered, letting his gaze drink me in, his hands sliding down my sides, caressing every inch of exposed skin.
