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In the mirror, I watch our reflection. Griff, so much taller and broader than me, staring at me with so much affection in his eyes as he runs his finger down my spine.
He bends at the knees lightly and slides his hands up my legs, pushing the dress with them, until it’s bunched around my waist.
“What are you doing?” I move to turn around and he stops me with a hand on my back.
“Admiring your legs in those sexy silver heels.”
I pull my hair up again. “There is a zipper back there.”
He lets out an eager hum. His fingers graze my neck as he finds the zipper, sending a lovely shiver over my skin. Cooler air drifts over my back as he slowly drags the zipper down to my waist.
I carefully ease the dress down and step out of it, draping it over the end of the dresser. Griff sucks in a breath. “No underwear?”
“Well, I was only planning to try on the dress for a minute or two.”
He rubs his hand over one cheek and gently squeezes. “I would’ve helped you take it off sooner.”
“I’m sure you would have.”
He works the clasp of my bra loose and I toss it near the dress. “Put your hands on the dresser.”
Our eyes meet in the mirror, and I rest my palms on the flat surface. He skims his hands over my shoulders and down my sides.
“Missed you. I need to get reacquainted with your body.” He glides over my hips, his thumb grazing my butt. “Fuck, these heels are just the right height.”
I reach back and tug at the towel still knotted around his waist and encounter his erection. The towel drops to the floor with a soft whoosh. I curl my hand around him and stroke.
He hisses in a pleasure-mad breath. “Fuuuck. Thought I’d never get hard again after that fucking ice bath. And five seconds of looking at you and here we are.”
“I knew you’d be okay.”
One of his hands slides from my hip to between my legs, his palm scalding against my inner thigh. His fingers tease my opening, then slide higher, in torturously slow circles.
“You’re hot now,” I whisper.
He cups the back of my head and leans closer, crashing his lips against mine in a ravenous kiss that spins me into a vortex of need. He dips his fingers lower, pushing inside me.
I gasp and moan, inching my feet apart and pushing my hips against his hand, chasing my need for pleasure.
My legs tremble. “I need you.”
“But I wanted to take my time.” He kisses and sucks at my neck, increasing the ache at my center. I press my palms flat against the dresser again and arch my back. He slips his hand out, dragging my wetness along my stomach.
One of his hands tightens on my hip as he guides himself into me. “Is this what you want?” He nudges his cock against my opening, and I nod quickly. “So impatient,” he teases.
I can barely keep my eyes open from the intense pressure and pleasure of him squeezing inside me. But I watch him in the mirror. A thrill runs through me at the pure concentration and satisfaction on his face as he pushes all the way inside. For a second, he seems to stop breathing.
From scalp to toes, my body tingles. Heat throbs through my body, slowly centering to where we’re joined. He kisses and nips my neck. I push back against him and he lets out a tortured groan.
“Do that again,” he whispers.
So I do.
In the mirror I meet his eyes. I place one hand over his and drag it from my hip to between my legs.
“Yes,” he encourages. “Show me what you want.”
“Touch me.”
