Page 29 of Velvet Betrayal
“I love how wet you get for me. It’s one of my favorite things about you,” I said, thumb finding her clit as I started to finger her.
“That is not the compliment you think it is.”
“One of my favorites,” I said, working her harder. “Not my favorite.”
“You’re insufferable,” she hissed, but then she shuddered, head bumping the mirror, eyes darting up like she wasn’t sure she was still in her own body.
I didn’t stop. I dragged my thumb in slow, mean circles, never quite giving her the rhythm she wanted, watching her thighs twitch and lock around my arm. By now my dick was throbbing, straining against sweatpants like it was about to bust out, but I wanted her to lose it first. Always did.
She bit her lip, eyes wild, daring me not to finish what I started. When she was close, her hips locked and quivered, and she grabbed my wrist so hard her nails dug in. “Do you ever—” Her voice broke, “do you ever fucking stop—”
“Never,” I promised, and the look she gave me in the mirror was pure challenge. “Because honestly…that’smy favorite part: watching you come, sweetheart. The way you’re completely undone for me. The way you’re just a raw fucking nerve. The way you’re nothing but mine.”
She tried to sass back but it melted into a gasp, her thighs clamping so tight around my hand I had to brace myself on the counter. Color flared up her neck, cheekbones wet with sweat, hair a mess that somehow made her look even better. Her eyes found mine, furious and pleading, and I watched the exact second her knees buckled and she rode out the first, silent shockwave of her orgasm.
I locked a hand behind her neck and kissed her, hard enough to bruise. She met me, all teeth and heat.
“I need you inside me right now, Kieran.”
“Yes, you do.”
I spun her around, bent her over the sink. She looked up at her own reflection, face flushed, pupils blown wide, and braced herself. “Don’t be a dick,” she said, but she was already hiking her robe up, muscles in her thigh flexing with anticipation.
I lined myself up, dragging the head of my cock through her slick, just to hear her moan. “You want it?” I asked, not because I needed confirmation but because she loved to make me beg.
“God, shut up,” she said, eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving.
“Ah, you mustn’t want it.”
She turned her head, glared at me. “Fuck me, Kieran.”
I grinned. “Okay. Since you asked so nice…”
I pushed in slow, savoring the way she stretched around me, the way she gasped and clamped down, refusing to give me the upper hand. My hands locked at her hips, grinding her against the sink until her cheek pressed against the mirror, her breath fogging over our twin reflections.
God, she was so fucking tight and hot and perfect.
She pushed back, meeting me thrust for thrust, like she wanted to erase the world, erase the fear, just lose herself in this. And I wanted it too—wanted to fuck her until tomorrow didn’t matter, until the only thing that counted was the shudder winding up her spine and into mine.
The more desperate she got, the harder I went, chasing the sound of her falling apart. She choked a curse into her elbow, fingers white-knuckled on the marble, until her body clenched around me so hard I almost lost it.
I reached forward, palmed her lower belly, grinding deeper, drinking in the helpless noises that spilled from her. I would have kept going, but she broke first—her body locked up, then shook, jaw slack, head tipping back onto my shoulder.
She half-collapsed, elbows splayed, but I stayed inside her, riding out the aftershocks until she begged, “Please. Please.”
“Please what? Use your words.”
“Come inside me,” she said. “Please.”
I wanted to make her say it again, but there was zero chance I was holding back after that. I bottomed out, pressed flush to her back, and came, hard, the sound torn out of me, muffled againsther shoulder. It hit like a blackout—like I’d forgotten what it was to lose control with her, forgotten how the aftershocks left us both raw and alive.
She laughed, breathless, into the sink. “Jesus. I forgot you were this much of a maniac.”
I let her go, ran a hand down her thigh, and smacked her ass for good measure. She squealed.
“You love it.”
“I tolerate it,” she said, but she was grinning.
