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After a quick shower and breakfast, I slip into the dress. My body tingles with anticipation, knowing that we’ll soon be facing the unknown together. I stand in front of the full-length mirror in the guest room. Ciaran’s room, our room, doesn’t have any mirrors. My fingers gently trace the delicate fabric. The way it hugs my curves and highlights my figure makes me feel like a goddess. Ciarán’s eyes follow my every movement, his gaze filled with desire and something more profound – a fiery protectiveness that sends shivers down my spine.
“Tinks,” he murmurs, his voice low and sultry, “you look absolutely stunning.”
“Thank you.”
Our eyes lock in the reflection of the mirror, and the intensity of his stare makes my heart race.
“Hold onto the mirror,” he orders, the command in his voice leaving no room for argument. I obey willingly, knowing that whatever comes next will only deepen our connection.
I grip the edges of the mirror tightly, my knuckles turning white as I brace myself. Ciarán takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him – my back exposed, displaying his name etched into my skin like a brand. With a groan, he unzips his pants and pulls his cock out. Lifting my dress and pushing my panties to the side, he enters me quickly from behind, the sensation causing my breath to hitch in my throat.
“Look at us, Summer,” he rasps, his voice strained with desire. I lift my eyes to meet his in the mirror, taking in the sight of our joined bodies. The power and possessiveness in his gaze leaves me feeling cherished and protected yet wholly claimed by him.
Ciarán pumps his hips, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. Our panting and moans fill the room, a symphony of passion that only heightens the intensity of our sex. In the mirror, I see him grit his teeth; his jaw clenched as he fights to maintain control.
“God, Summer,” he groans, his grip on my waist tightening. “You’re mine. All mine.”
“Yes, Ciarán. I’m all yours.”
The fervor of our lovemaking increases, each thrust bringing us closer to the edge.
In the heat of our passionate embrace, Ciarán’s movements grow more assertive as he holds me against the mirror. My eyes lock onto my reflection, and for a brief moment, I’m stunned by the sight before me. I see a woman who has surrendered to her deepest desires, one who has been irrevocably changed by the powerful man inside her.
“Look at yourself, Summer,” Ciarán commands, his voice husky and low. “See how beautiful you are when you’re with me.”
Our gazes meet in the mirror again, and I blush under his intense stare. The vulnerability in his eyes contrasts sharply with the possessiveness in his actions, only amplifying the desire that courses through us.
“Ah, Ciarán,” I whimper, unable to tear my eyes away from the scene unfolding before me. I watch as his strong hands grip my hips, guiding our rhythm in perfect unison. The dress is now an instrument of our passion, baring my body while still clinging to my curves.
“Tell me what you want, Summer,” he urges, his breath hot on the nape of my neck.
“I-I want you,” I stammer, my voice shaking with need. “Please, don’t stop.”
Ciarán’s lips curve into a wicked grin, and he leans closer, his chest pressing flush against my back. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his tone laced with satisfaction.
As his pace quickens, I try to focus on the sensations coursing through me – the way his fingers dig into my flesh, the relentless pressure building in my core. But it’s my reflection that captivates me, the raw emotion etched across my face as I yield to Ciarán’s every touch. I realize just how much he has come to mean to me and how much I crave his love and protection.
“Fuck, Summer,” he groans, his grip on my waist tightening. “I’m yours.”
His words ignite a fire in my soul; I respond with a breathy, “Yes, mine.”
Finally, we reach our peak together, our cries of ecstasy mingling in the air. As we come down from the high, Ciarán’s arms encircle me, holding me close as we lean against the mirror, our bodies slick with sweat.
He whispers into the crook of my neck, “Never forget who owns you, Tinks.”
His possessiveness both frightens and excites me, and I know in my heart that I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Ciarán pulls back slowly, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. Pride runs through me that I’m the one who’s put that look on his face.
“Look at you,” he murmurs tenderly, brushing a stray strand of hair from my forehead. “Absolutely stunning.”
He gently turns me to face him, his hands lingering on my waist. Our eyes meet, and I can see the depth of emotion swirling within his. It’s a potent mixture of love, lust, and unyielding possessiveness that leaves me weak in the knees.
“Summer,” he says softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. You’re... you’re everything to me.”
His confession catches me off guard, and my heart swells with love for this perfectly imperfect, enigmatic man. Despite the danger and chaos that surrounds us, I can’t imagine being anywhere else.
