Page 54 of Legal Attraction
“Yes,” she said. “Is it for you? Have you had any backlash?”
“The guys have called me an idiot,” he said. “But it hasn’t affected the practice any. In fact, I think it’s brought in more clients.”
“So you’ve been busy?” she asked. And now she was fishing to see where he’d been, why he hadn’t been around. He wasn’t the only one experiencing jealousy for the first time.
He nodded. “And I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me after the truth finally came out. Or if you’d hit me again like you did in that first elevator...”
She laughed and reaching up, pressed her lips to his cheek. “Poor baby...”
“I had it coming,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“Arte duped you—just like he did me,” she said. And somehow that made her feel better about it. If a man as brilliant as Ronan had been fooled, she didn’t feel like such a fool herself.
Ronan flinched. He obviously hadn’t liked being conned. “There was more to it than that.”
“I know.” But she didn’t want to talk about the past now. She’d missed him too much. And her body ached for his.
But she turned away from him, to face the mirror again. Over her shoulder, his reflection’s eyes narrowed as he studied her.
“Muriel...?”
Since she’d had to give back the gown she’d worn for the photo shoot, she wore only a robe now. She’d been too lethargic—from all the sleepless nights thinking about him—that she hadn’t worked up the energy to change into her street clothes. They overflowed the top of her bag, which sat on the floor beneath the long dressing room table.
Watching him in the mirror, she untied the sash of her robe and pulled it through the loops.
His mouth curved into a slight grin, and he told her, “You are not going to tie me up.”
“No,” she agreed. “I want you to touch me.” She parted the robe and let it drop from her shoulders so that she stood naked before the mirror and him. “I want you to touch me here.”
She pressed her fingers to her lips and swiped her tongue across the tips. Then she glided those wet fingertips down her throat and over the curve of one breast. She touched the already taut nipple, stroking her wet fingertip across it. And a moan slipped through her lips. “I really want you to touch me here...”
But it seemed as if he was paralyzed as he just stood behind her and watched as she touched herself.
She guided her hand over her stomach, which, thanks to him stealing her appetite away, was flatter than it had ever been. Then she raked her nails over her mound until she could slide her fingers between her inner lips. She gasped.
And Ronan echoed that gasp. A groan tore from his throat, and his paralysis ended as he reached for her. “Doesn’t look like you need me,” he murmured as he placed his hands on her shoulders and met her gaze in the mirror.
“Looks can be deceiving,” she told him, knowing they were both well aware of that now. Then she assured him, “I do need you.” And she placed her hands over his on her shoulders and guided them down to her breasts.
They watched each other in the mirror. She watched him play with her breasts, tease her nipples into even tighter points as tension wound inside her. And with every whimper and moan she uttered, his eyes got darker, his gaze more intense, and behind her she could feel the heat and hardness of his body. His erection throbbed against her bottom.
He wanted—needed—her just as badly as she did him. At least, that was what she tried to convince herself of as her desire for him slipped into madness. She tried to turn around, but he held her the way they were—her back to his front—and he continued to watch her in the mirror even as he undid his pants and freed his cock.
She could feel the slick bare skin of his dick rubbing against her ass now. Then latex separated skin from skin as he rolled on a condom.
Fortunately he seemed as staunch a supporter of safe sex as she had always been. So maybe—someday—they could try it without the condom. But that implied a commitment she wasn’t sure either of them was ready to make.
Right now, all she expected from him was pleasure. And he gave that to her. Leaning over her shoulder, he kissed her neck. She turned her head until lips met lips. They kissed hungrily. She was so thirsty for him, on fire with a thirst only he could quench.
Then his hands moved to her waist and he lifted her onto the makeup counter so she knelt with her head toward the mirror and her ass toward him. He moved his fingers into her before leaning over and lapping at her with his tongue. He licked her so sexily—as he watched her in the mirror—that she came. A little squeal of surprise slipped through her lips over how quickly the orgasm took her.
He grinned at her. But then the grin disappeared as his control snapped. And he moved between her legs, guiding himself inside her.
She gasped again as he filled her. Every time it was a surprise that they fit. But they did fit, so well that it was as if they were made for each other. And even though days had passed since they’d had sex last, they moved together in that perfectly choreographed dance like they’d been doing it for years.
As he thrust inside her, his hands found her breasts again. He cupped the mounds, but they overflowed his palms. So he focused on the nipples, gently twisting and teasing them as he built the tension inside her again.
She felt as if she might split in two—not from his size or thrusts, but from the unbearable need for release. He moved one hand from her breasts and stroked his thumb over her clit.
