“How do you know that term?” I ask, but like a well-trained prima ballerina, I do as I’m instructed and open my stance.
“Good girl.” The praise hits me below my belly, and I wiggle at the kiss of cold air between my thighs. That is, until his fingers dip lower, spreading me apart. “I have been watching you for months. Maybe I picked up on a few things.”
It really should creep me out that he’s been watching me all this time. But the loneliness that’s burrowed deep in my bones only feels comforted. Like he’s been there, some unseen guardian angel wholly devoted to me.
I rest my head against him, giving into the pleasure.
“Eyes on the mirror,” he tuts, and I cut my glance back up to the two of us, watching his fingers disappear into me. “So wet for me, Tempest. So fucking perfect.”
His cock presses against my back, and I can’t help but arch into it, the icy ball of his piercing grazing me. What would it feel like inside?
“I want you.” When one of my hands leaves the mirror to reach for him, he gently but firmly guides it back to the pane with a kiss to the scars on my shoulder.
“I want you more.” His eyes shimmer, darkened pupils staring at me from behind my wild waves that billow around my shoulders. He nestles into the storm of strands, words sliding down my body as his fingers slip in and out of me. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this, but I’ll needdays, not minutes, when I fully claim you.”
Claim.
The word surges through my veins. I want him to claim me. Mark me in frosty promises and pleasure. Etch himself so deep beneath my skin that neither of us can exist without the imprint of the other.
Logically, it makes no damn sense.
My eyes remain locked on our reflection. In ballet, every part of our body is a carefully calculated equation of lines and curves that present a perfected picture. Every limb may look graceful and delicate, but each is held with immense tension and care. It’s the beautiful illusion of effortless poise. Even when I was with Blake, there was always a part of me holding my core, wondering how I looked and if I fit the picture of what he wanted.
But I can’t summon the urge to care with Jax. Not when his hand that’s circling between my ribs sweeps over my nipple, each ridge of his skin making me shudder. The fact that all he’s focused on is me makes me want him all the more.
I wish we had thosedays.
My body is keening, writhing. An uncontrolled tangle that’s desperate to be undone. When my eyes begin to flutter, he takes his hand from my breast and slides it to my throat. “You’re close, aren’t you, Tempest?”
“Yes,” I rasp. His eyes, sharp as glass, somehow soften when they scan over me. His cock jerks when his gaze slips to where his hand is between my thighs. Watching him watch us together has me moaning. “Don’t stop.”
My body trembles. Every part of me is coiled, leaning into his icy touch and begging for every twirl of his thumb around my clit, every plunge that curls into my center.
His fingers don’t relent, spurred on by my sounds that filter up in white puffs. Frost swirls across the mirror, surrounding us, but my body is in an inferno, desperate to be soothed by his cool touch.
He skates against the sensitive nerves, and my knees buckle.
I’ll surely break from the pleasure of this.
“Jax!” I cry out. I’m on the cusp of fracturing and floating away.
He holds me in place, supporting my body at its center. “Watch.”
I hold back the urge to let my eyes roll skyward, to throw my head up. Instead, I take in his dark stare, the desire skating through his gaze as he drinks us both in.
“That’s it. Ride my hand.” His palm swirls my silver scar and presses into it while the fingers of his other hand twirl gracefully inside of me. My hips rock and my back is wet with smears of precum. His voice is gravelly, just above a rasp. “Look how beautifully you shatter around my fingers, Tempest.”
It’s my undoing.
My lips part, cloudy breaths blowing toward the mirror, and I scream so loud I’m sure some sort of studio alarm will sound. I’m unleashed, pleasure exploding from me in every possibledirection. My knees crumble as I drink in the sight of Jax. His neck strains before he turns my chin to capture my mouth in a deep, unrelenting kiss. My pelvis continues to jerk wildly, riding out my orgasm.
Oh my god.
My eyes widen and surprise bolts through me. I’ve never been able to come with someone else. Thought it wasn’t in the cards for me. I chuckle to myself, trying to catch my breath. How wrong I was.
The ecstasy of this, of him, will be the death of me.
As I come down from my ascent, Jax slips out of me, lowering us to sit on the floor. He tucks me into him, and I nuzzle against the panes of his chest. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he licks them clean. Maybe he can ignore the giant, glinting hard-on between us, but I can’t. It’s coated with glittering precum, and I lick my lips, craving to know how he tastes.
