His reflection shows me a man who has come to collect.
His hands come to rest on my hips, warm and strong, holding me in place.
I watch in the mirror as he leans down, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just behind my ear.
“I have been thinking about this,” he murmurs, the words a vibration against my skin. “About you."
He leans in, his chest pressing against my back, and I feel the hard evidence of his desire against my ass.
His hands slide from my hips to my stomach, then slowly, torturously, upward.
I am holding my breath, my entire body tensed in anticipation.
His fingers close over my breasts.
He kneads them, his thumbs flicking over my nipples, and I cry out, my back arching, pushing myself further into his hands.
“Look at me,” he commands.
My eyes fly to the mirror.
I see his face, dark and intense, as he looks over my shoulder at our reflection.
I see and feel the heat of his lips at my ear. "Look at yourself. Look how badly you want this."
He is right. I do. I look desperate. My cheeks are flushed, my lips parted, my eyes heavy-lidded with desire. My hands are clenched at my sides, and I am trembling.
It is humiliating.
It's the most turned on I've ever been.
One of his hands leave my breast, and I whimper at the loss.
His fingers trace the line of my panties and make a slow journey from one hip to the other.
Then they dip lower.
Lower.
Until he is cupping me, the thin lace of my panties the only barrier between his hand and my bare, aching flesh.
I gasp, my hips bucking against his hand.
“Mmm,” he rumbles in approval. “So wet.”
I am.
So wet I can feel it soaking through the lace.
He rubs me through the lace and fire burns deep in my belly. I am panting, my head thrown back against his shoulder, my body writhing against him.
I can’t think. I can only feel.
"I didn't say you could look away," he warns. "Eyes up, Victoria."
I force my eyes open. I meet the gaze of the woman in the mirror, and she is a stranger. A stranger lost in pleasure, a stranger I barely recognize.
And I see him behind me, strong and in control, a dark god playing with the mortal he has captured. The sight is intoxicating, devastatingly erotic.
