“Because I know exactly what pleases you.” She meets my gaze. “Despite what comes out of your stupid mouth.”
Excuse me?
She grabs my wrists and pins them behind my back as she presses her chest to mine, taking my control for once. I don’t have time to draw in a breath before she releases me, throws me down into the cushioned chair behind me, and the chorus starts, her body coming down on top of mine in time with the music.
What the fuck? My eyes go wide, heat spreading between my legs as all of a sudden, the music fills the room, Clay hovers over my mouth, stares into my eyes, and rolls her hips into me.
Liquid fire spreads through my stomach, and I suddenly can’t catch my breath, breathing hard.
Oh my God.
Cocking her head, she plays with me, arching her back, closing her eyes, and bending her neck back as her body moves, fucking me with a dance. I scale my gaze down, unable to relax but unwilling to stop her. I can’t.
I slide my hands along her waist, but she plucks them off and pins them to the arms of the chair, pushing herself off me.
She backs up, moving slowly—so slowly—with the music, stretching her back long and graceful, and I don’t know when she lost her shoes, but her pretty toenails are painted so light a pink that I can barely see it.
Hooding her eyes, they never leave mine as she looks down at me and runs her hand down her body, unbuttoning her shirt. The shirt opens, falling off one shoulder, and I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, barely able to feel my limbs. She unzips her skirt, her hips rolling with the tempo.
I want to get up. Honestly, I do. I need to leave.
But Iron’s right. Everyone is our type when they’re naked. She lets everything fall, and her ass juts out, swaying in a circle before she turns and faces forward, giving me her whole body, naked except for her thong.
I can’t take my eyes off her, pain wracking through my body as I ball my fists.
Hanging an elbow over her head, she runs the other hand up her body, grazing her perfect breast. Her hands come down her face, her torso, and stop at her panties, her fingers threading through the white ribbon straps around her hips, a small triangle of white lace covering her in front.
What the hell was she doing wearing that with a skirt? And dancing with Callum with that on?
My eyes dart up to hers. She’s still watching me, barely moving anymore and looking down on me. Sticking three fingers in her mouth, she wets them and runs the hand back down her body, slowly driving for that little triangle between her legs. Her chest rises and falls hard, and I’m throbbing. God, look at her…
Threading her fingers underneath the strap with one hand, she plays with herself over her panties with the wet ones while slowly tugging at the ribbon and teasing me. Taunting me. The promise in her eyes that she’s going to pull it down farther and farther each time.
Falling back into me, she pushes me back, hovers over my mouth, and I want to touch her so badly. But I grip the armrests instead.
“I can’t leave you alone,” she whispers.
My fingers hum.
Don’t leave me alone. I’m an idiot.
“Sometimes my feelings for you are good and sometimes they’re bad,” she tells me, “but they’re always strong, Liv. Like no one else.”
Twisting around, she faces the mirrors and lowers herself onto my lap. Threading her fingers through mine, she keeps my hands at bay as she leans back into me, her head on my shoulder. Rolling her hips with the music, she looks up into my eyes as she rubs her ass into my crotch, and even though my clothes are wet and cold, I’m sweating.
I find her in the mirror ahead, a groan escaping as soon as I see the picture of her body writhing on top of me. Her nipples are dark and hard, her stomach like an hourglass, and I can’t take it anymore. My hands start to shake, and I fight free, taking hold of her, one arm around her waist and the other reaches up to thread fingers through her hair. Holding her in place, I sink my mouth into hers, finding her tongue and so fucking hungry I want to swallow her whole.
Her wet mouth brushes mine, and I slide my other hand down into her panties, finding her nub and caressing it oh-so-gentle.
She moans, and I can feel her smile through the kiss. “I want to taste you,” she begs. “It’s my turn.”
But I can’t let go of this view right now. “You will,” I say. “Pay attention to what I do to you. What you like. So you know what to do to me, okay?”