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Uncertain, Victoria jerked back. “What do you mean?”
He shifted against her, pinning her hips with his, enjoying her gasp. “Tell me what to do. Fingers only. Not tasting you now.” He nuzzled her neck. “That’s for later, when I have hours to devour you.”
“Slow doesn’t do it for me. I need fast.” She licked her lips, flashing a hint of her tongue. “Rough.”
“Eyes on the glass.” He moved back down her body and pried her legs open, inhaling deeply at the swollen pink flesh that awaited him. He couldn’t wait to savor every bit of her.
“Don’t look at me,” he commanded when she sneaked another glance. “Look at the mirror. If I go off track, use those pretty little lips and tell me. Can you do that?”
“Yes.”
He hiked up her thigh and drove his fingers in deep, two this time. She moaned as he pushed them in and out, releasing her leg so that he could use his other hand to hold her open. Laid bare like this, her tan lines framed her mound, highlighting the swollen pearl of nerves and how she flushed from his attention.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he gritted out.
Her nails scratched the yoga mat as he thumbed her clit, coordinating his movements with the withdrawal of his drenched fingers. This time her moans were so loud he considered stuffing her top in her mouth, just in case.
She was everything and more he’d hoped for in bed—and on the floor—and in a minute, she was going to drench his hand. Or better yet, his cock.
When she started to spasm, he drew free of her though he continued to circle her clit. She throbbed against the pad of his finger, all heat and unapologetic need.
“Are you on the Pill?”
She nodded so swiftly he would’ve grinned had he dared. Any unexpected movements and he feared he’d lose his tenuous grip on his control. “Yes. God, please,” she begged.
“I don’t have a condom.” Irrefutable proof he hadn’t showed up for sex, though he damn well didn’t mind the turn of events.
“It’s okay. Isn’t it?”
Considering his track record of late, he did some rapid nodding of his own. “Yes.” He set the head of his cock against her entrance and closed his eyes. Then he whispered the word, like a prayer. “Yes.”
So goddamn wet. So fucking hot. The inferno in the room seemed to be inside him now. Inside her as he sank deep. Tight and soft, she gripped him in a fiery fist, holding him there while he clamped his hands on her thighs and spread her wide.
Slowly he drove deeper, noting with satisfaction that she still watched her face in the mirror. He did, too, riveted by the sight of her mouth widening every time he inched in farther. Her lashes fluttered and her taut nipples jutted when she bowed back, still maintaining that link between them in the glass.
He anchored his hands on her waist and tightened at the feel of her coiling her legs around his hips. She clasped him deep, rippling around him in silent supplication. He traveled as far as he could go, then changed the slant of his thrusts when her desperate moans demanded more. He was already steeped in her, her relentless need twining urgent ropes of desire around his throat. His cock.
His heart.
She pressed her heels against his ass and drew her lean, impossibly toned body up, arching in an erotic bridge he thanked the yoga gods for. Then he was plunging into her, mindless to everything but the feel of her squeezing him from root to tip. Wrenching more pleasure from him than he’d believed he was capable of feeling. Blowing through his limits until they were shattered roadblocks on the way to the bliss he’d found in her sweet, selfless body.
He’d lost all control. She’d pushed him to the point where there was nothing but her and him, and the magic they made together.
When the orgasm finally overtook her, the most lovely smile he’d ever seen in his life crossed her face. As she succumbed, he did, too, in long, endless pulses that shuddered through him and flowed into her, extending her climax. She twitched around him, prodding another groan from his throat.
She’d completely wrecked him.
Eventually he shifted them onto their sides on the mat. Playfully, she walked her fingers up his stomach, but he couldn’t even dredge up a smile. His chest felt too tight, as if his overheated skin had shrunk. His heart was still racing. Maybe he needed to up his cardio.
“Tired?” she teased.
“It’s been a while.” He grimaced at the pile of his discarded clothes, wishing he didn’t have to go back to work for the first time in forever.
With the new stores opening soon, he had a million things to handle. He didn’t do days off, nor did he take extra-long dinner breaks. Along with the usual tasks, there was the upcoming magazine launch and his parents’ looming retirement. He’d think of more, once his synapses figured out how to fire again.
Other parts of him he’d given up—temporarily—as casualties of war.
&nbs
