And then a rough whisper said, “Open your eyes.”
When I did, I nearly jolted in surprise. We were facing a mirror I hadn’t noticed. It hung near the hallway on the wall opposite, and it reflected our bodies wrapped up in one another. My upper half was fully on display, breasts heaving with every breath and a flush of pink painting my neck and cheeks. Brady was watching me in the mirror, blue eyes dark and heavy lidded as his gaze followed the path of his hand across the pale skin of my stomach, up to cup my breast. His arm banded across my chest and held me to him.
“You are so fucking sexy,” he murmured, eyes fixed on our reflection. “And I’m not going to rush anything about tonight.”
With one hand plumping my breast, he brought the other around my body and dipped into the opening of my jeans, beneath the fabric of my underwear.
I drew in a sharp breath as his fingers danced along my seam.
“So soft, Mac,” he breathed against the shell of my ear. “You feel so good.”
Brady’s touch wasn’t firm enough to get me off like this. I needed more. But somehow, I knew that wasn’t his goal just yet. True to his word, he was taking his time, exploring and meandering as he built me up slow and steady.
I felt the hard length of him behind me and gave an experimental push with my ass. His eyes shot to mine in the mirror and one long finger slid inside my pussylike he was trying to distract me and slow me down once again. It worked. I groaned and clenched around his digit.
“You’re wearing an awful lot of clothes,” I managed as his finger moved slowly, in and out. “Do I get to undress you?”
Brady’s grin was wicked. “Only if you’re good.” The heel of his hand ground down on my clit and a moan escaped me. “But not yet. Widen your feet.”
For once in my life, I complied when Brady demanded. The space created gave him more access to fuck me with his fingers. My hips moved in time with his thrusts, the pressure on my clit almost perfect.
Brady’s fingers toyed with my nipple, drawing my attention to the mirror and him. He kept his eyes on me with an intensity I wasn’t used to, but I liked it. I liked the way he was watching me—watching us.
“I’m going to make you come, right here, where I can see. Then I’m going to prop you up on this counter and eat you out until you come again. And then you can take off my clothes, if you want. But I need you to talk to me, to tell me what you need. How to get you there. I wanna hear you, MacKenzie.”
I stared at him in the mirror, transfixed as he took charge with his blatant honesty and dirty words. Like he’d thought about what he’d do to me if he ever got the chance, and now we were acting out the fantasy step-by-sexy-step.
“Okay?” he prompted.
I nodded, so rattled and turned on I wasn’t sure I could speak. I could hear how wet I was as his fingers continued working me.
“So, what do you need, Mac? Another?” He pressed a second finger into me as he asked, and I nodded again. “I want to hear you,” he reminded me.
“Yes,” I gasped. “And harder, on my clit. More pressure.”
Brady obeyed, bearing down, the heel of his hand firm and so, so good, right where I wanted it.
“Like this?” he asked.
I started to dip my chin in agreement but remembered in time, hissing out a desperate yes.
“You’re perfect. God,” he said raggedly. “So hot and tight. I want to feel you come around my fingers and against my tongue and on my dick. I want you every single way I can have you, Mac.”
My breath came in shaky pants as Brady’s filthy words worked to bring me closer to the edge. He was going to kill me if he kept talking with that dirty mouth.
Plus, I could still feel him behind me, impossibly big and hard, as our bodies moved together. Despite being on the verge of my own orgasm, I was eager for more, the next step. I wanted to strip him down and touch him in return. I ached to feel him inside me.
“I’m close,” I whispered.
Brady’s brilliant blue eyes came back to mine in the mirror, and I groaned long and loud as all my muscles tensed before releasing in wave after wave of perfect pleasure.
My eyelids drifted closed, and I heard Brady exhale a broken “Fuck” as I pulsed around his fingers. My body sagged against him, but he didn’t falter, just clutched me tighter to him.
There wasn’t time to feel embarrassed or awkward because Brady removed his hands from my underwear and spun me around, kissing me hard. It was needy and worshipful, and, I realized, a precursor to how he planned to use that dirty mouth.
He pushed down the fabric of my jeans, but then paused when his hands touched the bare skin of my ass cheeks. His lips broke away from mine, and he looked over my shoulder, presumably at my lacy thong.
“If I had known that’s what your underwear looked like, I would have taken your pants off first thing.”
