Page 102 of Heroes & Hitmen
I drop my mouth down to her neck again, letting my teeth scrape against her skin. “Look,” I say again, voice low. “See how responsive your body is to my touch? You’re perfect for me, Miley.”
Her cheeks are flushed pink, breathing shallow, and she’s transfixed by her own reflection– by what I’m drawing out of her. It’s a heady feeling, seeing her slowly unravelling and not looking away.
The scent of her arousal spikes as I slide a hand down over her stomach, then lower. There’s a slit in the fabric of her dress at the top of her right thigh, and I hook a hand underneath, fingertips meeting the softness of her skin. She stares at the place where my hand disappeared behind the satin, lips parting in anticipation as I reach up to cup her through the fabric of her panties. Her lips part on a small sound– half gasp, half whimper.
“Stay still for me, babe,” I murmur, mouth right against her ear. “And let me show you exactly how perfect you are.”
She’s trembling now, one hand white-knuckling the sleeve of my suit jacket. I slip my fingers beneath the seam of her panties to find her already slick with desire, my inner wolf howling in satisfaction. I lock eyes with her in the mirror, daring her to look away as I slide a finger inside, slow and deliberate. She clenches around me, hips rolling forward, and I clamp my other arm tighter around her waist to hold her still.
“Watch,” I growl as I work my finger in and out, slow at first, then faster, thumb circling her clit. Her lips part, breaths coming hard and fast. Her violet-grey eyes are wide and glassy as she fights to keep looking in the mirror at herself– atus.
“You see that?” I croon, nipping the junction of her neck and shoulder while resisting the urge to claim her right here and now. “See how fucking perfect you are? Look how you blush for me all over.”
She pants harder, bracing herself against me.
“You wanna come?” I tease, curling my finger, thumb flicking just right. “Then say it. Say you’re perfect.”
She clenches her jaw in refusal, but I don’t let up. I add another finger, pumping in and out fast, the wet sound both obscene and beautiful. I bite back a groan as her tight pussy stretches around my digits, her whole body shuddering with pleasure.
She doesn’t get to come yet.
I slow down, fingers barely moving, drawing out the ache. “C’mon, you like when I say it. Now I want to hear it from you.”
She shakes her head, a rogue strand of hair falling out of the pins, breath coming out in ragged bursts.
I grin, patient and smug. “I’ve got all night, sweetheart.”
She tries to glare at me in the mirror, but the effect is ruined by the desperate, glassy look in her eyes. “You’re an asshole,” she gasps, rolling her hips.
I chuckle low in my throat, pressing my lips to her temple as I start pumping my fingers again. “Maybe, but I still wanna hear you say it.”
She bucks against my hand, a whine slipping free. “I’m… fuck… you’re so…”
“Say it,” I growl as I ease up, letting her teeter right on the edge, then stopping.
She whimpers, the sound raw and needy. “I’m perfect.”
“That’s right,” I growl, rewarding her by fucking her with my fingers again, watching her face go slack with pleasure. “My perfect girl.Mine.”
She’s close now. I can feel it in the way her muscles clench, hear it in the way her breath keeps catching. I lean in, tongue flicking over her earlobe. “Say you’re mine,” I urge, voice harsh.
She’s so far gone she barely hesitates. “I’m yours,” she gasps, the words breaking on an exhale.
I press my thumb hard to her clit, fingers pumping fast. “Good girl. Now come for me.”
Her whole body seizes, every muscle tensing as her mouth opens on a silent scream. Her wide eyes stay locked on mine in the mirror as she rides it out, hips jerking, legs trembling.
“That’s it, beautiful,” I murmur as I hold her through every wave, kissing the top of her shoulder.
She sags back against me as she comes back down, her skin warm and flushed, her hair disheveled, dress bunched at her hips. She’s panting, but there’s a smile on her lips. Arealone.
“Happy?” she asks, voice hoarse.
I brush her hair out of her face, admiring the mess I made. “Ecstatic.”
She rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t make any move to push me away. Instead, she leans into me, body slack and sated.
“Still hate the dress,” she mutters, catching my gaze in the mirror.
