Too overcome with emotion, I shake my head and whisper, “There’s nothing. No one else. Ever, Blaise.”
Serious discussion over with, he seems to remember where we are and what we were doing. His gaze drops to my breasts, still spilling out of my shirt. I reach down to flip the material up, and he pulls my hand away. “No.”
The hazy, satisfied smile he’s wearing vanishes, replaced by a darker one.
“We’re not finished.”
His hand fists in my hair again, and as he rises from the couch, he pulls me off the floor. He lets go long enough to tuck himself back in his jeans and zip them up.
The kiss he places on my lips is unexpectedly soft and slow. My whole body sighs against him. He takes me by the shoulders and turns me, slowly walking us into the bedroom. Inside, he closes the door and stares at me for a few seconds.
“Go stand in front of the mirror.”
Next to the closet is a wide, full-length mirror. Blaise used to joke that it should have been installed on the ceiling instead of the wall. I approach it slowly, for some reason afraid or embarrassed to see my reflection.
He stops to flick on a small lamp on the dresser, then walks up behind me. The heat of his body pulses against my back. Gently he wraps my hair in his hand and tugs my head up.
“Open your eyes. You’re going to watch everything I do to you.”
My breath hitches.
He hooks an arm around my waist, anchoring me to him. His other hand takes my chin and tilts my head so I’m staring in the mirror. Straight at him. Our eyes meet. He squeezes my chin as if he’s giving me a reminder not to move. Then he slides his hand over my neck, stopping to apply a hint of pressure.
The warm buzz between my legs intensifies.
He slides the hand around my waist over my belly, to my shorts, and slips his hand inside.
My eyes close. “Ah—”
He cuts off my moan with a gentle squeeze at my neck. “Eyes open.”
Slowly, my lids flutter open. He doesn’t move again until I’m watching. His fingers slide over my panties, stroking with just enough pressure on my clit that I ache for more.
“Hmm, what’s going on here, Kady?”
He pushes the thin fabric aside and traces his fingers up and down my wet pussy.
One corner of his mouth lifts. “Your pussy’s bare, Kadydid. When’d you do that?” he whispers against my ear.
I open my mouth to answer, but I can’t force any words out with him sliding his fingers over my pussy. “Christ, so smooth and soaking wet. I can’t wait to get my mouth on you.”
My arms reach back, looping around his neck, and he releases my throat to pinch my nipples.
“Oh, fuck.”
“Like that?”
“Yes.”
I let out another moan as he slides his fingers from my clit to my opening.
“Kady, I want to fuck you all night.” He groans against my neck and bites at my skin. My hips arch, seeking his fingers and more of his touch. Behind me, his broad hard chest feels like a brick wall keeping me trapped.
Against my better judgment, I whimper out a “Yes.”
Where his touch has been gentle, he holds me harder. Claiming me, letting me know who I belong to.
Blaise.
