The other pushes my dress aside.
I watch as my breast spills from the sheer black fabric. As he cups me. Runs his thumb over my nipple.
Fuck. It’s too much. Too intense. I’m already wound so tight. I’m already so desperately in need of him.
He moves his hand to my other strap. Pushes it off my shoulder. So my dress falls to my waist. So I’m exposed.
The window opens to the beach. The ocean.
No one is there. No one can see. Only the two of us.
Somehow, I feel more exposed. Knowing he’s watching. Knowing I’m watching. Knowing he’s watching me watch.
“Ian.” I don’t know what I’m asking. Only that I want it. Need it. Immediately.
In response, his grip around my throat tightens.
My sex clenches. “Fuck.” My breath is a struggle. Because I’m wracked with desire. Because he’s gripping tightly. But I don’t want him to let up. I want more.
His gaze shifts to the mirror. For a long moment, he watches me watch. Watches my eyes widen, my chest heave, my cheeks flush.
He teases my nipple with his thumb. Slow, but not patient. Rough enough it hurts in the best possible way. Rough enough, I know he needs me as much as I need him.
He presses his lips into my skin.
Then it’s the soft scrape of his teeth. Harder and harder. Until it hurts as much as it feels good. Until I have to let out a deep groan.
He toys with me until I’m panting. Then he moves to my other breast and teases it just as mercilessly.
My breath catches in my throat. My toes curl into my shoes. My hands reach for him. Get his side. The warmth of his skin against my palms—
It’s enough to make me dizzy.
This is already so much. Too much.
The sight of his body behind mine, the feel of his teeth on my neck, the sound of his breath on my skin, the pleasure building inside me—
I have to close my eyes. To suck a breath through my nose. To dig my nails into his skin.
He groans against my neck. Brings his hand to my stomach. Over my dress.
He pulls my body into his. So I feel his chest against my back. His cock against my ass.
There’s too much fabric in the way—this skirt has too many layers. I need that. Now.
No more teasing. No more patience. No more waiting.
I rock my hips, grinding my ass against him.
He lets out a low groan. Brings his hands to my hips. Holds me in place. “Not yet, vixen.” He drags his teeth over my neck. “I need to ease you into this.”
I shake my head.
“What makes you think you get a say?”
It shouldn’t make my sex clench, but it does. “Please.”
“Please?”
“Fuck me.” My cheeks flush—did I really say that?—but I move forward. I’m too in need for inhibitions. “Please, Ian. Fuck me.”
He groans against my neck.
“Please.”
His hand goes to my back. Finds the zipper of my dress. There. The garment catches on my hips. “Off.”
I nod. Shimmy out of the dress. Kick it aside.
There. I’m standing in his bedroom in only my boots and panties.
In front of him.
His body behind mine.
Both of us almost entirely exposed.
Ian brings his hands to my hips. In one swift motion, he pushes my panties to my knees.
I do away with them.
He brings his hand to my stomach. Holds my body against his. Looks to the mirror, taking in the sight of us.
It’s like we’re paused. A still photo for later. This moment on the precipice. I’m standing, yes, but I’m still splayed out for him. Naked except for my boots.
Even though he’s only in his boxers, he’s standing with that firm posture. Lost in desire and utterly in control at once.
Dark against light.
Skin against skin.
His hands. At my stomach. My hip. My chest. My throat.
Then between my legs.
He wraps his hand around my throat as he brings his thumb to my clit. Holds me in place as he rubs me.
Fuck, that’s intense. A soft touch that feels like so much. I’m already wound tight. On the edge.
Watching my chest rise and fall, his arm between my breasts, his hand around my throat, his thumb working my clit with steady strokes—
He winds me tighter and tighter.
The pleasure inside me builds and builds.
Until I’m there. At the edge.
Then his teeth scrape my neck and I tumble over the edge. My sex pulses as I come.
I rock my hips, groaning his name as I reach for him.
His side. The warmth of his skin. His hip. The smooth fabric of his boxers.
The steady pressure of his thumb.
He rubs me through my orgasm. Releases my neck. Makes eye contact through the mirror. “Fucking beautiful.”
I nod. It’s all I can do.
“The best thing I’ve ever seen.” He presses his lips to my cheek. Brings his hands to my hips. “I want to watch you come all day.”