Chapter 138

“Very nice,” Tyler said, and the relief that swamped her then was as sharp and thick as what had come before. It almost knocked her sideways. “I wasn’t sure you could follow directions, Lexi. I’m proud of you.”

And he was behind her, then. She even thought she could feel the heat he generated, though he didn’t touch her.

“Look at you. That pussy is so wet. So needy. There’s only one thing for it.”

Lexi had lost the power of speech. She’d left it somewhere in that neat pile of her clothes, and she thought she would die… If he touched her. If he didn’t. If he didn’t do something with her, because the fact he’d even mentioned her pussy made it throb. And she could feel a surge of raw, molten need overtake her again.

Then he touched her at last, coming up flush behind her so she could feel the scratchy material of his jeans against the curve of her ass. And his hands moved, running up the length of her spine, then down again. As if he was memorizing her. Then down the length of her arms, too. One hand moved to the nape of her neck, his thumb moving in a restless sort of demand, and she didn’t understand how this small a touch could undo her so completely.

She felt moisture in the corners of her eyes again, and she knew that it was tears. Though she was nothing so simple as sad. Lexi couldn’t contain all the things she felt inside. They wouldn’t fit.

He shifted again, and reached out. She heard him pick up something from the array beside her. He let go of her for a moment, though he still stood close behind her. He unzipped his jeans and the sound of it was like a scream, there in the hushed confines of this bathroom.

Then she felt him, silken hot and hard like steel against the curves of her ass. And this was Tyler. That was Tyler’s cock, huge and hard behind her, and it was Tyler who she’d come all this way to see, when she had no idea what she was asking for. Just as he’d told her she didn’t.

Tyler, something in her screamed. As if maybe she should stop this. But it only made her wetter. She heard the sound of the condom packet ripping, and some movement from behind her. Then one of his arms came beneath her hips to angle her up higher, even farther onto her toes.

“Tiptoes, please,” he said, and the fact he could sound so normal made her shudder.

And then he was there, the broad, wide head of his cock pushing into her folds. She was glad she was so sodden, so hot already, because he was already a stretch.

He didn’t wait. He didn’t let her get used to him. He pushed into her, relentless and sure. And worse, somehow, slow. Inexorable. All she could feel was that stretch, that radical fullness. He was too big, and she wanted to panic, but all she could do was pant. Still he pushed in, inch by inch, crowding her. Taking her over.

And when she thought she might move her hips a bit to make it better, to ease that initial penetration, she realized that he was holding her fast. He was making her take it. Forcing her to accept him, all of him, just as he liked. She cracked, then, the orgasm walloping her, though she was not entirely comfortable, not sure she could be, and she was bent over a sink with her ass in the air and he was inside her—Tyler was inside her—and she was entirely full of his cock, so big and so hard she didn’t understand how she’d spent all this time in his presence and never noticed that he was huge— When he was fully inside her, thrust deep, he stopped. She kept clenching and shuddering around him, but he stayed still and hard.

And something flipped over inside her, some kind of awe, as it began to dawn on her that he was totally and completely in control of himself.

“Stand up,” Tyler said, and his voice was huskier. That was it. “And you can open your eyes if you like.”

But his arm was still tight around her hips, so as she straightened, she had to arch.

And that was what she saw as she rose. Her body arched toward the mirror, her breasts high and her nipples tight, and some other woman’s face where hers ought to have been. Wild and abandoned and drunk on sensation. While behind her, Tyler loomed dark, hard and everything.

His cock was lodged deep inside her, and he kept himself there as she came up, his other hand moving around to the front of her. He traced a light line down the front of her, trailing fire, then pressed hard where they were joined, letting her know without a word how well he knew her clit already.

How easily he commanded it, and her.

And satisfaction glinted in his gaze when she let out a soft cry, another punch of something not quite an orgasm slamming into her. He moved his hand up over her belly, letting her feel her own moisture as he slowly dragged his way across her skin. And he held himself still, his cock hard and deep, as his hand found her breast. He weighed it in his palm, then dragged his thumb over her nipple, making her moan as the sensation punched through her again.

Still his hand rose, while his green gaze pinned her in the mirror as surely as his cock was buried inside her. His hand kept moving, until it came up to circle her throat.

“I don’t want you to forget where we are, slip off your tiptoes and choke,” he told her, dark and low. His hand almost a collar, but not quite. Tyler and not Tyler, all at once, and that was its own punch. “But that might take work. I want you to do that work.”

And she could see herself. She could see that dazed look on her face and the way each breath she took made her breasts bounce a little. More than that, she could see the intensity in his gaze, and the absolute certainty. It made her, if not certain on her own, willing to trust that he was. She nodded, but she couldn’t access her voice. And she couldn’t keep her hands from coming up to grip onto his strong forearm.