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“Oh, my god,” I moaned, and I wasn’t quiet either.
It was all too wrong, and too fucking sexy for me not to think about.
I pictured him on his knees at the side of the bed, my thighs perched on his shoulders as his tongue lashed at me. And I heard my parents’ voices over my shoulder yelling how dare you do this in my house.
They shouted what a bad girl I’d become.
“Shh,” Preston teased, although maybe he was halfway serious. I’d been kind of loud.
A cocky smile glanced across his lips, hinting at his thoughts, and then his hand that had been resting on my thigh moved. It rose and landed on my collarbone before sliding down inside the top of my dress. As he palmed my breasts, his other hand worked below my waist.
Shit, his fingers. They alternated between rubbing my clit and plunging inside me, and my overwhelmed mind had no idea which sensation I liked more. They were both so good.
Without thought, I turned my head toward him. Looking at him in the mirror was nice, but seeing him up close and without the glass between us? That was even better, and the urge to kiss him was so crushing, I had no choice but to surrender to it.
My eyes fluttered close as his mouth captured mine, and he seemed happy to drink up my little whimpers of pleasure. My chest heaved and my heart pounded in my ears, and need built inside my center like the temperature rising in a pressure cooker.
His greedy hands seemed to be everywhere, touching me in ways and places no one had done before. I was so lost in him and his kiss, I hadn’t realized how loud my moans had become until it was too late.
He drew back and scrutinized me with narrow eyes. “Are you going to be good and stay quiet for me?” He didn’t pause long enough for me to answer. “Here. I’ll help you.”
The finger buried inside me retreated. It was so he could grab at one side of my underwear and give it a tug down over my hip. My gaze snapped forward, watching in the mirror as he repeated the action on the other side, trying to work the pink satin down.
“Off,” he commanded. “And then give them to me.”
I swallowed so hard, I was sure he heard it. My hands shook as I did as told, but not because I was afraid. It was because I was so turned on, I was vibrating.
I’d barely pulled my panties over my ankles before he leaned forward and snatched them from my grasp. He balled them up tightly in his fist, and I sensed what was coming even before he said it out loud.
“Open your mouth.”
Holy shit.
My jaw dropped open with shock, but it was exactly what he’d asked for, and I stopped breathing as my wadded-up underwear was pushed past my lips. The satin fabric filled my mouth, and for added effect, his palm sealed over my lips, suppressing any sound I might make.
My gaze was fixed on the image of us. My eyes were wide and unblinking, while he resumed what he’d been doing before with his hand between my now bare lower body. Only this time he used two fingers, pumping them in and out of me at a steady, deliberate pace. The stretch of them heightened my pleasure, as did the visual of his palm covering my mouth, holding in my damp panties and my desperate moans.
Adding to it all, one strap of my dress fell off my shoulder, and the weight of the bow tying the straps together was just heavy enough to make the top of my dress peel down. It snagged on my pebbled nipple for a moment before breaking free and exposing my breast. My gaze bounced from it, to his hand on my mouth, and then to the fingers moving between my thighs.
It was so fucking erotic.
Too hot to look at for more than a few seconds, and heat blazed in my cheeks. I’d never seen myself like that, and I had to fight the urge to tell myself I wasn’t allowed to look that . . . sexual.
That dirty.
If one of my parents were to walk in right now, there’d be no coming back from this. And yet—I couldn’t find the strength to care. All I could focus on was the way Preston caused pleasure to flood down my limbs. How he seemed to know exactly what I craved and how to give it to me.
“Have you ever touched yourself while thinking about me?” he asked.
The fire inside me burned infinitely hotter. I pressed my lips together beneath his palm and nodded.
He couldn’t have looked more pleased if he’d tried. “I bet you did it right here in this bed, too.” He said it like it was a simple request. “Show me.”
My body stiffened and I choked off a sound of surprise. My shocked eyes stared at the mirror, wordlessly asking if he was serious.
“I want to see,” he said. “Show me how you do it.”
My heart tripped and stumbled. What he was asking was so personal. It was more intimate than anything else I’d ever done. Maybe even more than sex—although I wouldn’t know for sure until I experienced that.
