“Shy,” she murmured, because his fingertips were hot through the white microfiber bra, casually brushing her nipples as he tugged the fabric down her arms and off to puddle at her feet.
He said nothing, just drew the side of his little finger between her breasts and down the middle of her abdomen to the top of her skirt. She took in details as he slowly stripped her, noting the way her nipples hardened as he slipped the hook-and-eye free, slid the zipper down, gave the skirt the merest nudge to send it to the floor.
Then he cupped her breasts through the bra and brushed his thumbs back and forth over her nipples, the slow, measured movements rasping the fabric over nerve endings on full alert. When she gave an involuntary undulation Matt unhooked her bra, pulled it down and away to drop on the floor, leaving her in nothing but the sheer white panties and dusky twilight.
Her eyelids drooped, part response, part reluctance to take in the carnal image in the mirror. Her nipples were red, hard. The urge to look away overwhelmed her. She turned her head to the side, but Matt laid fingers along her jaw and turned her to face the mirror. “Watch,” he said again, and this time the command held a hint of steel.
She met his eyes in the mirror. “Are you watching?”
“Hell, yes,” he said. His gaze held hers for another long, searing moment, the hazel gone dark and deep as his pupils expanded in the growing darkness. Then he deliberately looked at her mouth, then her breasts, then the shadow of dark curls covering her mound. She made an inarticulate sound and lifted her hands to cover something, her body, her breasts, maybe her eyes. He caught them, flattened her palms to the mirror at shoulder height.
That was easier, as if something to push against channeled the heat surging through her. She pressed her hands firmly against the glass, felt dampness slick the smooth surface. He slid his fingers over her hips and lowered her panties to the floor, leaving her naked in front of the mirror. She tipped her head forward enough for her hair to unmoor from behind her ear and slide into her face, hiding one eye.
“You’ve got nothing to hide,” he murmured, low and rough.
Only how she felt about him.
The thought disappeared when he stepped into her back and braced his forearm on the mirror over her head while his right hand skimmed down her belly, between her legs. He knew her body now, dipped into the folds to trail moisture up to her clit. She gave an inarticulate little cry and strained into his unyielding body. Oh, that helped, the glass under her palms, the length of him against her back.
He didn’t stop. They both focused on his hand, dark against her hip and thigh, touching her so intimately, so confidently. Another slow circle around her clit and she shuddered again, the fabric of his shirt and pants chafing her skin as she watched her mirror-self spread her legs. His finger circled her clit, sending darkly erotic pleasure in waves through her abdomen. Strung tight between her hands on the mirror, her feet on the floor, and her back and ass braced against his body, the tension climbed from her sex, seared along nerves connecting her nipples and clit. Her mouth dropped open, and a gasp shuddered into the air. The long muscles in her thighs began to tremble as the pleasure coiled dark and hard under his relentless touch. Then she shattered, waves of release pulsing out in time to the soft cries she stifled in her shoulder.
She sank to her knees on the floor, pushed her hair out of her face, and tried to catch her breath as she peered up at him in the mirror. He was fully dressed, hands on his hips, the tiniest of smiles lifting the corner of his mouth. “Still thinking?”
No. “Yes,” she said. The vulnerability of kneeling naked on the gritty floor while he stood fully dressed behind her registered in her brain as slightly embarrassing and very arousing. She lifted her chin at him. “Take something off. Please.”
With efficient movements he unbuttoned his shirt, tugged it free from his pants, shrugged it off. That was a little better, and yet wasn’t any better. His lean, muscled torso distracted her until he dropped to his knees behind her and began to unbuckle his belt. Without a word he freed his cock from his pants and situated her with her hands against the mirror again, making her wait while he smoothed on a condom. Then he gripped her hips, positioned himself at her entrance, and pushed inside.