Page 82 of Tuned To Break
Then I slide inside—slow and deep—my eyes never leaving the mirror. Her mouth falls open on a gasp, her fingers gripping the sink like she’s holding on for dear life.
“Look at yourself,” I growl, wrapping my hand around her throat just enough to make her gasp. “Look how fucking stunning you are when I’m buried inside you.”
She whimpers, pushing back against me. “More.”
I tighten my grip just slightly—enough for that perfect buzz of pressure she craves—and roll my hips, finding a punishing rhythm that has us both teetering on the edge.
“You love this, don’t you? Love when I make you watch. Love when I ruin you like this.”
Her eyes lock on mine in the mirror, her lips parted, hair wild, cheeks flushed. “Yes. I fucking love it.”
“Say it louder.”
“I love it. I love the way you fuck me. I love the way you look at me like I’m everything.”
I drop my head, kiss her shoulder, my voice wrecked and low. “That’s because you are.”
I reach between us to circle her clit; her body tightens. I push deeper, holding her in place with one hand on her hip and the other still wrapped gently around her throat.
“Come for me, Stella. Be a good girl and come all over my cock.”
She does—loud, breathless, beautiful—and the second she clenches, I lose it, hips jerking as I spill into her. We sag together, breathless, the mirror fogging, the air thick with heat and the smell of sex.
For a minute, neither of us moves. The mirror’s fogged up, the air thick with heat and the smell of sex. I grab some toiletpaper and clean us both up quickly, then help her straighten her dress while she attempts to tame her hair.
“Do I look like I’ve just been fucked in a bathroom?” she asks, squinting at the mirror.
I kiss her cheek. “You look like you’ve just had the best bloody orgasm of your life. So... yeah, kinda. But you look fine.”
She swats my arm, laughing, and we step back onto the patio like nothing happened—except it’s written all over our faces.
Conversation halts. Drinks hover mid-air.
“Well, well,” José is first to razz us. “That was a long bathroom trip.”
“Gotham City needed you, Kinky Batman?” Parker adds with a smirk.
“Or some very enthusiastic handwashing,” Yasmin offers.
“You lot are impossible,” Stella groans, trying to keep a straight face. “We were just talking.”
“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Megan grins. “Because your hair says otherwise.”
Stella turns to glare at me. “You said I looked fine.”
“You look incredible,” I say, slipping an arm around her waist. “Absolutely glowing.”
“I hate you,” she mutters, blushing as she smiles.
“No, you don’t,” I whisper at her ear. “You love me. Especially when I make you scream my name in a guest bathroom.”
“Oh my God,” she yelps, burying her face in my chest as everyone erupts into laughter.
And in the middle of it all, I can’t stop grinning. Because this—these people, this beautiful, fiery woman in my arms—is my life now.
And fucking hell, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
