I see the way my body arches toward him. The way my lips part. The way his eyes lock on mine in the glass, daring me to deny the electricity snapping between us.
“Tell me you don’t feel it,” he breathes, shifting his hips, rocking against me..
I feel it. God, I feel it.
“Dallas…” I whimper his name, and in that sound, I give him all the permission he needs to make me feel beautiful.
“That’s right, Lucy. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. But you… do me a favor, baby? Put those hands of yours against the mirror. Don’t worry. It’s bolted down. It won’t fall… but I need to make sure you won’t.”
I do exactly that. While I lean forward, Dallas makes quick work of his jeans. He gets them open, the sound of the zipper going down beating in time to the anticipation flooding through me, and when he grips my waist, pulling me back toward him, I’m already fluttering my eyelashes in bliss as he slowly feeds his cock into me.
“Yes…yes…”
“You like that?”
I nod, eyes still closed.
He pumps a little faster. “Uh-uh, Luce. You don’t think you’re beautiful? Bullshit. You’re never more irresistible than when you’re looking up at me as I fuck you. So go on, baby. Open your eyes for me. Watch as you take my cock like my wife should. Don’t you even think of blinking until you watch yourself come all over me.”
There isn’t any refusing him right now. He’s in complete control, and I can tell from the rhythm of his strokes that, if I refuse to do what I’m told, he’ll stop. Just like that, he’ll go to bed with blue balls before he makes his point.
He wants me to feel beautiful, and he plans on doing that by fucking me until I’m screaming his name.
My eyes pop open as he bottoms out inside of me. I gasp, and he exhales, clear relief fluttering across his features.
“Yes. That’s my girl. That’smy wife.”
The rhythm of us builds. It’s slow at first. Absolutely intentional on Dallas’s part. He keeps his strokes slow and languid instead of fucking me as though he’s racing to see how fast he can make me come. His hands continue their exploration, mapping me like he’s doing his best to memorize my body.
The mirror showseverything. The way his jaw clenches. The way I arch to meet each thrust, demanding more. The way he’s so right, that we fit, that we belong together, that he’s mine?—
“Julian.”
I know Dallas prefers his nickname, but it… it just happens. His real name slips out without warning. Without thought. As though it was waiting at the edge of my tongue…
Everything freezes. Itstops. Dallas’s motion, his body, his fucking heart. Mine, too when I look in the mirror and see that his expression changes instantly.
For the first time since he told me who he was, I… I’m actually frightened of him. That’s what the look of pure rage on his face does to me. It makes me realize how vulnerable I am, under his body, trapped against a mirror, his dick all the way inside of me with no sign that he plans on pulling out just yet.
Oh, no. He’s glaring at me instead with something close to… tohate.
“What did you just call me?” he asks, voice low and lethal.
My stomach drops. “Let me go.” It’s my instinctive reaction. He’s scaring me, and I need to be safe. “Please, let me go.”
“Answer me first. What did you call me?”
Why is he reacting like that? “What?”
“Damn it, Lucy.” His grip on my hip tightens painfully. “Answer me!”
“Your name!” I yelp. “You said it was your name.”
His eyes flash in the depths of the mirror. I keep staring at the glass. Somehow… somehow it’s better seeing his fury reflected back at me, like maybe it’ll be blunted compared to the full force of his anger.
“My name isDallas.”
“I know. I’m sorry, okay? I…” I’m suddenly intimately aware that he’s still inside of me. “I’m sorry. Dallas. I didn’t mean it.”
