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“I’ll be gentle.”
“Don’t be.”
“Jesus, Dee.” Lust darkens his eyes.
“The doctor said we can resume with enthusiasm,” I remind him. “And you feel very enthusiastic.” I slide my hand between our bodies, making him groan.
After several strokes, he removes my palm and presses a kiss to the center. “I don’t want this to be over before it starts.”
“I love making you come.”
“Later,” he promises against my lips. “Take this off.”
I grab the short hem, lift the nightie over my head, and toss it aside.
“Now turn around.”
The moment of self-consciousness is brief, lost beneath the hunger in his eyes and the brutal need in me. I turn. Our gazes meet in reflection. It’s only with Mick that I have allowed myself to be this vulnerable. To lay myself bare and know I’m safe.
“Do you see what I do?” he asks.
I let my eyes travel over the image of my naked body in a way I haven’t before. Without judgment, without criticism, without assessment. “Yes.” I nod at him, thinking I finally do. What I see through his eyes, and what I’m beginning to see through mine, goes deeper than the physical. Deeper than the way I look. It’s how I feel, it’s what I am. My eyes move from my reflection to his. “I’m beautiful and strong and sexy.”
He smiles a tender smile, liking what I’ve said. “You are, in every way, Dee. Watch.”
His hands slowly trace the wide swell of my hips, the indentation of my waist, his long fingers fanning out to climb my ribs and skim the undersides of my heavy breasts.
“Tender?” he asks, gently molding them.
“Yes, but that feels good.”
His caress is sublime, exploring their fullness, brushing his thumbs against the stiff peaks.
“I need you,” I rasp, aching for more. “I need to feel you inside me.”
“I need you too.” He releases me and is gone, returning in a flash with the armless club chair from the corner of the room. He places it in front of the mirror.
My throat works on a swallow of nervous excitement. He sits back in the chair. Sleep-mussed hair, whiskered jaw, cock standing at proud attention. I step forward to straddle him.
He shakes his head. “The other way.”
I’ve come this far. Executing what I hope is a provocative pivot, I give him my back, and a full rear view.
“You’re killing me,” he growls.
“It was your idea,” I tease, feeling emboldened. “Should I stop?”
“Hell no. I want you to watch yourself riding me.”
I bite my bottom lip and keep my gaze on the image of me lowering onto his muscular thighs. I slide my legs wide, giving us both a peek at my desire. Mick’s breaths are rough and quick.
I want to make it good for him. Burn this image in his brain and hold nothing back. I arch my spine and lift my arms, joining my hands behind his neck. In this position, my torso is elongated and my breasts are high, round, and thrust out and upwards.
He makes a carnal sound of approval. Invoking my inner Sex Queen, I wind my hips over him and swivel my waist, mimicking a lap dance.
“Dee.” I feel his temperature rise, exuding a sultry heat.
That’s how I want him, on edge and on fire. When the teasing gets too much to bear, he clutches my hips and whispers with an authoritative bite, “ride me.”
