He looks me up and down. “Who are you? Where is the little virgin I used to know? Asking me to show her what to do, how to please me?”
“I guess you were a good teacher.” I back away, still grinning, and pull the nightshirt over my head before dropping it to the floor. The man has an excellent poker face, but not when it comes to this. Red hot lust sparks in his eyes a second before he follows, peeling off his sweaty shirt and dropping it next to mine. By the time he joins me in his bathroom, I have the shower running and am bending down to slide off my panties.
He takes me by the hips, grinding himself against my ass. “You get me so fucking hard,” he grunts in my ear, his fingers pressing into my flesh like he wants to take control of my entire body. Like it’s his, like he owns it. And if that’s what he thinks, he’s not wrong. I can’t imagine anybody making me feel the way he does, knowing what I like better than even I do.
Instead of opening the shower door, he turns me around, still pressed against my back. We’re facing the vanity, reflected in the mirror above the sink. There I am, stark naked, with Zeke holding me in place. “Look how fucking gorgeous you are.” He lowers his head, and his lips skim over my shoulder.
I gasp, melting against him.
“Open your eyes,” he suddenly mutters, his voice sharp. I hadn’t even realized I closed my them-all I want is to lose myself in him. I want him to sweep me away so I don’t have to think about anything or anybody but us. “Watch yourself.”
“Watch myself what?” When his right hand leaves my hip in favor of wedging between my thighs, I know what. I gasp when his fingers brush against my clit, my head falling back against his chest.
“Watch what happens when I do this to you. Watch how beautiful it is.” He nips my earlobe, and I shiver when that sensation combined with what he’s doing to my pussy threatens to overwhelm me. My legs are already weak, but I force myself to stand. Whatever he wants, I’ll do it because I know in the end, he’s going to make me come. He’s so good at making me come.
Is this what he sees when he touches me? My nipples harden, and my skin flushes. My face contorts until I hardly recognize myself. Who is that girl in the mirror? Sexy, sensual, mouth hanging open so I can moan his name. His free hand slides up my body, groping my tits before continuing further and wrapping around my throat. He holds my head in place, making sure I’m watching.
“There’s nothing in the world like watching you fall to pieces.” His dick is practically impaling my lower back. When I wiggle against it just a little, the way he groans makes me gasp with even deeper pleasure. Because it’s not all about what he does to me. It’s about what that does to him. What I am capable of doing to him.
He begins rubbing himself against me, the motion from his fingers speeding up. A strangled sob escapes my throat.
“Does that feel good?” he asks, like he needs to.
“Yes!” I gasp, leaning against him for support. “Yes, so good!”
“And do I own this pussy? Is this pussy mine?” Our eyes meet in the mirror, and fuck me, he’s a beast. This isn’t Zeke anymore. This is some primal force channeling itself through him. I should want to fight back, but I don’t. That’s the last thing I want. I want him to take me, I want him to use me, I want him to be as rough as he needs to be because that’s what I need, too.
“It’s yours,” I promise, and I mean it with every fiber of my being. “Yours, Zeke.”
He growls in satisfaction before burying his face in my hair. “Fucking right,” he groans.
“I’m so close,” I whisper, desperate, willing myself to get there. “I’m going-I’m going to-”
“Watch yourself,” he demands when my eyes start to close again. “Or I’ll stop.” Like he wants to prove it, his pace drops off until he’s barely touching me.
“No!” I whimper, desperate for the release of this tension. God, I can’t live with this. “Please, don’t stop!”
“Then keep your eyes open.” He meets my gaze over the top of my head, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Him watching me, me watching him. Both of us are in this together as he pushes me higher, higher, wet slapping noises coming from between my legs thanks to the juices running down the insides of my thighs. So close, so close-
“Oh, yes!” I watch in wonder, exhilarated, my body straining for one last second before a massive shudder wracks me, leaving me shaking and sobbing with relief. I fall back against him, weak and helpless, riding out the blissful waves.
But he’s not finished yet. I haven’t finished coming before he bends me over the sink and lines up with my quivering pussy. “Mine.” He shoves himself inside me, taking me deep, making me gasp from the force and the depth.
“Oh, yeah,” I moan, still riding the high. Instead of coming all the way down, it’s like I’m on a plateau, stuck in that delicious in-between place. “I love the way you feel inside me.” I look up in the mirror to meet his eyes.
He clenches his jaw, fighting hard against his own need to let it go. “Nobody will ever fuck you like this.”
“Nobody!” I agree before gasping when our bodies crash together. There’s something different about this. He’s taken me hard, but this is fierce. There’s something deeper going on, something I don’t understand. But I feel it like a current running from him into me. Binding us together.
“Mine. Made for me. Only me.”
“Yes!” This is all I want. This is all I ever want. Zeke inside me, filling me up, using me, and letting me use him.
“You have another one in you?” he asks, slapping my ass hard enough to make me yell. My head bobs up and down- I can’t speak, I’m too out of breath-and he chuckles in approval. “Good girl. Let me feel it. Come on my cock, Mia.”
The way he says my name is absolutely filthy. How can two syllables be filthy? But he does it, and it’s so fucking hot, and oh, my God, I’m going to come again, I’m going to
–
“Zeke!” I lean against the vanity, moaning his name over and over, but he doesn’t let up. He takes me by the hips with both hands and hammers me hard, merciless, baring his teeth and snarling-ferocious. I love it. I love watching. I love seeing him come apart the way he makes me fall to pieces.
He pulls out just in time, a split second before a splash of cum hits my lower back. And I smile, strangely triumphant even though I didn’t do anything special. It’s the satisfaction of watching him find his pleasure in me. Knowing I can make him do that.
When he’s finally spent, his head falls back, his breath coming in sharp gasps. “There’s my second workout of the day,” he manages before chuckling.
He then looks toward the shower. “I think now is the part where we get cleaned up.”
I laugh with him because, yes, we both need it now.
Still, there’s a tiny part of me, way in the back of my mind, that can’t help but wonder why he seemed so angry. Was he getting something out of his system that I don’t know about? And that possessiveness? It’s sexy, yeah, but it didn’t seem like he was trying to be sexy about it. It was like he actually meant it.
He’s never been that way before this morning. Did something change?
Why do I get the feeling he knows something I don’t?