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Her breath trembles. “You’re assuming I’m wearing any.”
I go still, and she watches what she’s said move through my body and into my cock, which has been half-hard since she put her mask on.
“Heidi.”
“I thought it’d be practical.”
“You came to this room with nothing under this dress?”
“I wanted to make things easier for you.”
I look at the glass, then back at her.
“You are going to stand there,” I murmur, moving my mouth close to her ear, “with your pretty mask and your smart mouth and your bare cunt under this dress, and let strangers watch while I find out how easy you made things for me.”
Her breath leaves in a rush. “Jesus.”
“Wrong man.”
A startled laugh springs out of her, and I kiss the sound off her mouth. She nips my lower lip.
“Careful, Karlsson. You’ll wrinkle your murder suit.”
My control snaps thin, and I walk her backward until her hips meet the edge of the chaise, and her gasp slips into my mouth. I kiss her hard, trailing my hand up to her throat. She opens for me with a greedy noise that goes straight to my cock again, and when I slide my other hand beneath the slit of her dress, she spreads her legs enough to let me in.
My fingers find her drenched and hot. I break the kiss and rest my forehead against hers, breathing hard. “You are already so wet.”
Her lashes flutter as I gather the evidence of what this club has done. The glass behind us stays dark, but I can feel their eyes now. They can see my hand under her dress and the way she spreads her legs apart. They can see the exact moment her teasing disappears because my thumb circles her clit.
“You love me playing with this soaking cunt, don’t you, min fru?”
Her nails dig into my jacket, and I spin her carefully, putting her back to my chest and both of us facing the glass. When she sees our reflection, her breath hitches.
“Look,” I say against her ear. “This is how they see you now. My wife trying not to grind against my fingers in a room where every person knows exactly what I’m doing.”
My fingers circle again, and her hips shift into my hand.
“Viktor.”
“Tell me if you want the light off.”
“No. Keep it on.”
I smile against her neck, and her hands move to the thin ties of her dress, tugging them. The silk loosens and slips over her chest. She watches herself in the dark glass, shoulders rising with every breath. I keep my gaze on her face as I draw the fabric down enough to bare one breast, then the other. Her nipples tighten in the cool air, and a shadow beyond the glass moves.
Heidi’s body responds before her mouth can pretend otherwise with a small sway back into me, and she bites down hard on a moan.
My mouth finds the bare curve of her shoulder. “You are very good at making me hungry.”
“Viktor.”
I nip her shoulder lightly. “Keep saying my name like that, and I will make you come standing up before I use anything on that tray.”
Her eyes lift to mine in the reflection, hands pressing against the outside of my thighs. I want to drag her down to the floor. Instead, I reach for the glass bowl and take a piece of ice between my fingers. I hold it where she can see it, and her lips part.
“Can I use ice?” I ask.
“Yes,” she breathes.
