“And did you make yourself come?” He circles my clit with his finger before pushing it inside of me as I gasp, the pleasure quickly consuming the ache.
“Yes. It was my second orgasm thinking of you, Shane.”
His brows rise with surprise, his finger momentarily faltering. “Second?”
I bite my lip and nod. “The first was after the auction when I was home. I made myself come by rubbing my legs together,” I admit as my face ignites, still remembering the day like it was yesterday.
It was during the live auction at the gala, where all the players were up for bid for a friendly date with the winner, only I didn’t expect Shane to be as well. One thing led to another, and suddenly Shane was removing his dress shirt on stage. I felt my entire body combust into flames at that exact moment as I watched his glorious torso being revealed to me for the first time, button after button.
For the rest of the evening, I was so hot and bothered that by the time I got home, I found myself lying in bed rubbing my legs together. I didn’t touch myself, but apparently the friction and images in my mind were enough to send me tipping over the cliff.
That night, I had my very first orgasm, and it was all because of Shane.
“God, you’re perfect for me, Angel.” He claims my lips as he continues fingering me, and soon, I’m grinding my hips against him, wanting more despite the soreness I feel.
“I want you again, Shane.” My hand reaches between his legs, grabbing onto his hard penis.
“Do you want to try something with me?” he asks, pulling his mouth away from mine.
My nerves skyrocket. “Like what?”
He smiles as he withdraws his fingers from me and untangles himself from my body before standing at the side of the bed. He then goes over to an armchair that rests in one corner of the room and picks it up, bringing it over to the other side, wherea standing mirror resides. He places the chair facing it, then comes back to the bed and holds out his hand for me.
Placing my shaky hand in his, I follow him as he leads us to his suitcase first—picking up another condom—and then over to the chair. He doesn’t let go of my hand as he sits down on it. “Come here, Angel.”
I come around, facing him, but he spins me toward the mirror. He lets go of my hand and takes me by the hips, sitting me on top of him with my legs spread on either side of his, exposing me completely to the mirror.
“Like this,” he whispers in my ear as his hand comes down between my legs.
I’m red all over, my blush traveling almost to my belly button. I feel his length pressing into my back, twitching with every small moan that falls from my lips. I can see just how wet I am, droplets falling between us every time his fingers move around. My flesh between my legs looks a little red and swollen, but what he’s doing feels so good I don’t want him to stop.
“I want you to watch yourself, watch what I do to you.” He pushes two fingers inside of me, and my head drops back onto his shoulder as I gasp. “Watch, Angel.” He grazes my ear with his teeth.
Bringing my head back up, I focus on the image in the mirror, watching his fingers pump in and out of me, coming out wetter every time. “Shane…” I rock my hips against him, captivated by the view as my orgasm builds.
“You want me inside of you, sweetheart?”
“Yes, please,” I beg, no longer caring how desperate I sound. I feel like I’m finally waking up, discovering a new part of me I didn’t know existed, and I want to keep exploring it.
With Shane.
He tears the foil open with his mouth before pulling his fingers out from my center and sheathing himself. He then lifts me bythe waist once more and slightly lowers himself on the chair as I reach between his legs and grab his penis, placing it where I want it most. He slowly lowers me down on top of him, and I cry out at the stretch. It doesn’t hurt as much as before, but it’s still uncomfortable.
“Oh God, Shane. You’re so big,” I moan and gasp for air. I circle my hips, adjusting to him and needing that pleasure from earlier to return.
“That’s it, baby. Make yourself feel good.”
I rock back and forth, liking the friction it’s creating but still needing more. This reminds me of when I walked in on Ronnie and Noah in their kitchen, but her legs were placed differently, and she was moving up and down instead of front to back. But in this position my feet don’t touch the ground, so there’s no way I can move like she did.
Taking what little bravery I have, I grab onto each armrest and lift my legs up one at a time, setting the heels of my feet just above his knees. I try to move up and down like I saw her do, but it feels awkward, like my arms aren’t long enough to do it properly, and I begin to feel frustrated with myself.
Why do they make it look so easy, yet I can’t manage to do it?
“It’s okay, Angel. We’re still learning, don’t get discouraged,” Shane says soothingly.
He brings his hands to the back of my thighs, just below my butt, and slouches a little lower in the seat once more, his own behind now hanging off the cushion. He then pulls his hips down before thrusting up into me.
My jaw drops open as I struggle to breathe while he continues plowing into me, much less gentle than he did earlier. My hands tighten into fists on the armchair, my toes curling on their own as I watch his length penetrate me at rapid speed through the mirror. It’s hypnotizing.
