Preston plunged inside. The demon of stone, cherry lips, and honey eyes didn’t wait for me to recover. He set a punishing pace, moving so fast and faster still as my moans grew louder.
His middle finger joined the party, helping to spread me open as he rolled my clit under his thumb. A sea of tulle bunched up between us, coming as high as my chin.
Oscar, I’m sorry. I have nothing but the greatest respect for your work. Please forgive me for coming all over it.
“More,” I gasped.
Preston pushed a third finger inside of me and my eyes pretty much rolled into my skull. Head smacking the wood. Moans dropping from my lips and a string of filthy promises from his. We were far from quiet.
Gripping his shoulders, I pushed him down. “On your knees.”
“Gladly. Been wondering for two years what you taste like.” Preston trapped my gaze as he licked his fingers clean. “Delicious.”
I about came right there on the spot.
Preston disappeared under my voluminous gown. I squeaked as my legs were lifted and draped over his shoulders. He latched on to that little bundle of nerves, sucking and flicking the helpless thing until my cries grew desperate. Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, Preston spread my lips and tongue-fucked me—his head a bobbing lump beneath my dress.
I came so hard my back arched off the wall and knocked me off-balance. Preston gripped my hips, stopping me from tipping face-first into the rug as the orgasm wracked my body.
Gently he set me on my feet and poked his head back out. “Should’ve mentioned.” Preston grasped the knob. “This is my room.”
He threw open the door, sending me stumbling inside. I spared a quick glance at the black and silver wallpaper spreading spidery designs around the room. The larger-than-life bed with monogrammed sheets, and a television that couldn’t fit into most garages. A quick glance and then I ran to a corner to struggle with the buttons on my dress. Preston was not messing around and I couldn’t risk this fabric to those devilish fingers.
See? I haven’t completely lost my senses. I still have my priorities in order.
I pushed the bodice past my waist seconds before he got me. Preston lifted me out of the tulle and captured me in another mind-fogging kiss. Lips connected, I made short work of his clothes.
“I don’t care who else is in the fucking club.” Preston picked me up and carried me to his desk. “And once I’m done, you won’t either. You won’t even remember their names.”
“Marcos, Cason, N—”
Snarling, Preston swiped his desktop—keyboard, pencils, and books crashing to the floor. I half screamed/half laughed.
“Just letting you know how many names you’ll have to fuck out of my head,” I teased. “Consider it motivation.”
“I am properly motivated now. Thank you very much.” Preston set me down and reached between my legs for the desk drawer. The crinkle of a wrapper told me why. “Flip over,” he ordered. “You’re going to watch.”
I didn’t know what he meant. Preston gestured to the right and the large vanity mirror positioned conveniently to shine a spotlight on our activities.
“Turn around,” he ordered. “Ass up.”
I rushed to comply.
I lied about Preston joining the club. This guy was in a league all his own. His command over my body was spine-meltingly sexy. He took what he wanted and swept me along for the ride, and I was loving where this was going.
Stretching over the desk, my ass hung over the edge, up and wiggling for him as it was told.
“Can you see?”
I saw.
Saw my cheek pressed against the glass desk and the foggy condensation from my rapid pants. I watched him roll the condom over his impressive length. Preston positioned himself at my entrance and I saw that too. I held my breath knowing—and seeing—what was coming next.
Mirror Belle’s eyes widened as he disappeared inside of her inch by inch.
Preston started pumping—slow at first and then picking up speed as he found his rhythm. I stared at the mirror mesmerized. It was one thing to feel him filling me up. To hear our bodies smacking together and for beads of sweat to pinprick our skin. It was a whole other thing entirely to see it happen.
If someone was to carve this man a statue, it should be just like this. Head thrown back, chest glistening, and body bent like a bow as he buried himself to the hilt.