“Just me talking does this to you?” She sounds amazed.
“Everything about you does this to me. But your voice...” I have to close my eyes for a second. “It’s like you’re telling me secrets no one else gets to hear.”
She reaches up and cups my face. “What other secrets do you want to hear?”
“Everything. But first...” I spin her back toward the mirror, my hands working on her jeans. “I want you to watch what your voice does to me.”
The denim hits the floor and she’s standing there in just her panties, all curves and smooth skin. When she tries to cross her arms again, I catch her wrists.
“What did I say about these hands?”
“To keep them down,” she whispers.
“Good girl,” I murmur, hands tracing the curve from her waist down. “Do you know how many times I’ve watched you bend over to tie Blythe’s skates and had to think about penalty shots just to keep myself together?”
Her breath catches, surprise mixing with heat in her eyes.
“Your legs,” I continue, fingertips barely grazing the soft skin of her thighs. “I’ve imagined them wrapped around me so many times I’ve lost count.”
I cup her breasts from behind, watching her face as her nipples harden under my thumbs. “Now tell me something. Anything. Just keep talking.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she breathes, arching into my touch.
“Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
Her cheeks flush pink. “Dex...”
“Use that voice. The one that’s been driving me crazy for months.”
“I want...” She hesitates, then meets my eyes in the mirror. “I want you to touch me everywhere. I want to feel your hands on every part of me.”
“Fuck, yes.” I slide one hand down her stomach, pausing at the edge of her panties. “Keep going.”
“I want you to make me forget everything except your name.” Her voice drops to that husky register that makes my head spin. “I want you to show me what I’ve been missing.”
I slip my hand inside her panties and she’s already soaked. “Christ, Golda. You’re perfect.”
“Don’t stop,” she gasps when I start to circle her with careful fingers. “Please don’t stop talking to me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m the only woman you’ve ever wanted.”
I still my movements, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “You are. You’re the only one who matters.”
She turns in my arms then, hands fisting in my shirt. “Bed. Now. I need you.”
I lift her easily, carrying her to the bed and laying her down gently. She reaches for my shirt and this time I let her pull it over my head. Her hands explore my chest, nails dragging lightly over my skin.
“Your turn to talk to me,” she says, working on my belt. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want to worship every inch of you.” I catch her hands before she can get my pants undone. “But first, I need to taste you.”
I hook my fingers in her panties and slowly pull them down her legs. She’s completely bare before me now, and the sight makes my mouth water.
“You’re so beautiful,” I tell her, settling between her thighs. “Every single part of you.”
When I finally put my mouth on her, she cries out, her hands fisting in my hair. I take my time, learning what makes her writhe, what makes her beg.
