Chapter 3

Is it mean of me to push Hendrix when I know he's struggling with control as it is? Probably, but I'm enjoying it a little too much. I want him to snap. I want him to lose control. And I want to be the one on the receiving end of that.

"What are you thinking right now?" I ask.

I watch his throat work as he swallows. "I'm thinking a lot of things. Like if you taste as sweet as the champagne, how hot you would look bent over the counter with your ass in the air, what you would look like riding me. And since I'm being honest here, what you would look like on your knees with those gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock."

I swallow, the sound of my heartbeat filling my ears. I don't know who moves first, and I can't say that I really care enough to dissect the situation.

It's as if I move without touching the ground. The second the urge to touch him gets too strong, I'm there in front of Hendrix, his fingers digging into my hair, loosening the pins holding the curls in place.

"I have craved the taste of your lips since the last time I had you in my arms," he all but growls before capturing my lips in a hungry kiss, his mouth moving against mine, fighting for control. The second his tongue runs across my bottom lip I give up the last ounce of control I was trying to hold on to. I whimper, needing more, wanting him to take whatever it is he needs from me.

Hendrix says something, but the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears is louder than his whisper. His lips move along my jaw and down my neck before his tongue slips along the deep cut of my dress, tasting the exposed skin. My head falls back. I didn't realize how badly I wanted to be touched by him, and now I don't ever want him to stop.

"Don't worry, gorgeous, I'm not stopping," he answers, making me realize I said the words out loud.

"Should we be doing this?" I ask, hoping he won't come to his senses and stop but wanting to give us both an excuse to stop.

Pulling back, his eyes meet mine, the heat in his gaze setting my skin on fire. "Remember what I said? It's just in here. And as long as you can stay quiet enough, we can go back to worrying about what we should do when we leave this bathroom. What I do know is that if we stop right now, I will never forgive myself. I need to know what every inch of you tastes like. I need to know what you feel like when you come on my fingers, my face, and my dick."

"Yes."

"Yes what, Harlow?"

"Yes to all of it. I want all of that too."

"That's my girl." His voice is rough. Reaching behind me, he grabs the bottle of champagne I left on the counter. "Right now I really want to find out if the champagne tastes better this way." Before I can ask what he means, he tips the bottle, pouring a small stream across the top of my breasts before following the path with his tongue, licking the sweetness from my skin.

"Is it better?"

Instead of answering, he takes a small pull from the bottle before taking my lips in another kiss, this one slower. Opening my mouth to him, I welcome the taste of the champagne on his tongue.

"Turn around and face the mirror." Hendrix steps back, helping me turn.

The woman in the mirror looks nothing like me. Her hair is a mess, her lips are puffy, and her eyes are hooded. I watch Hendrix's reflection as his lips move down my neck, sucking and biting the skin before soothing it with his tongue. His hands sliding down my sides, toward the slit at my thigh. Holding my breath, I wait for him to find out exactly what I'm not wearing under my dress.

"Fuck." The second the word is out of his mouth, I gasp. His fingers slide along the warm exposed skin between my legs. "You've been like this all night?" His voice raspy.

"Yes," I moan, not sure if I'm simply answering him or telling him yes as his finger slips inside me.

"Were you hoping something like this would happen?"

When I don't answer, he starts to remove his finger. Squeezing my legs together I try to keep his hand where it is, not wanting him to stop.

"Answer the question and I'll give you more."

"No. It's the dress."

"You're bare under this dress, but you weren't hoping to find a man who would slip is hand beneath the material and find you like this? How long have you been wet for me?"

"Too long," I tell him. It's been too long. Definitely before I noticed how hard he was while sitting across the bathroom from me.

"Good enough." Slipping another finger inside me, he begins to move them slowly in and out before taking them out completely.

I want to cry at the loss of contact. I want more. I want him inside me.

"Keep your eyes on the mirror. I want you to watch yourself come."

I swallow, not looking away from him in the mirror.

"Have you ever done that before?"

"No."

"Good. I want you to watch yourself, to see exactly what I'll get to see when I slip my cock deep inside of you and watch you come undone. I want you to know exactly how fucking gorgeous you'll look in that moment."

Unable to form words, I nod. Looking at the woman in mirror, I wonder how the hell I got here. I don't have to consider the answer before I feel the air on my skin as Hendrix uses the slit in the dress to expose my flesh. Gripping me by hip, he guides me to bend a little at the waist, bringing my backside closer to him.

A shiver works its way down my spine as his nose runs along my thigh before bringing his face between my legs. My knees buckle at the first swipe of his tongue against my heated flesh.

"Oh fuck," I whisper.

Hendrix doesn't seem to notice the struggle I'm having standing here, his tongue moving with purpose, opening me up to him, flicking against my clit before his lips close over the sensitive spot and suck. I tighten my grip on the counter to hold myself up, my head tipping back when his finger slides into me.

"Keep watching." He stops just long enough to say the words before his mouth is back on me and he's adding a second finger.

I watch my skin flush and my breathing pick up. I'm lost watching the woman in the mirror, feeling nothing but pleasure. It happens so fast, my mouth opens as I try to stop the moan of Hendrix's name as my orgasm takes over. My back arching, I push back, needing more and wanting to ride out the pleasure with his mouth on me and his fingers moving steadily inside me. Just as I come back to myself, I notice Hendrix standing back up, pressing his chest against me.

Gripping my jaw, he turns my face and kisses me. I can taste myself on his lips—something I never thought I would enjoy. But there's something about knowing he just brought me to orgasm with that mouth that has me wanting more from him.

The sound of his zipper is the only noise in the room. Without a word, he works his way between my legs, slowly sliding his cock into me.

"Breathe, gorgeous."

I nod, watching his face as he slowly pushes into me, inch by inch. "Hendrix," I moan, not sure what I'm trying to say or what I need. I just know I need all of him.

"I know, baby." Pulling back until just the tip is left, he thrusts forward, his hips moving faster. In and out. We watch each other in the mirror.

I let my head tip back to rest against his shoulder, unable to hold myself up anymore. Hendrix wraps his arm around my waist, holding me to him while he continues to move faster and harder. We watch the swell of my breasts in the mirror as they bounce with the movement. "You are a fucking dream," he whispers in my ear.

"Hendrix. I'm so close."

"I know, gorgeous. Me too."

Slipping my hand under the fabric of my dress, I rub my clit, needing relief. My body is burning with pleasure, and for a second, I worry that I'll combust if I don't come right now.

"Now, Harlow," he commands. With a cry of pleasure, my second release takes over. I sag into his body, hoping he has the strength to hold me up. His body tenses before I feel his release. "Christ, you're going to kill me."

Hendrix slips from my body, and I stare at him as he gets himself back in order while I catch my breath.

"Let's go," he says, fixing my dress so everything is covered. His gaze moves to my hair, probably noticing the mess he made of it while kissing me and the way the small curls are forming at the nape from sweat.

"What?" I ask, a little dazed.

"Let's go. I'm not finished with you, and I'll be damned if I fuck you in this bathroom again. I have a bed upstairs that I need to see you naked on."

Without a word, I grab the forgotten half-full champagne bottle off the counter and move to unlock the door.

"We'll worry about what happens next in the morning," I tell him. "Right now, I want to feel what it's like to have you under me." Looking around the room, I spot his tie on the counter. I'm not even sure when he removed it. "Make sure you bring that," I say, pointing at the tie before opening the door and stepping out. I don't look to make sure he's following me to the elevator, and it doesn't take long before I feel him at my back.

Tomorrow I can go back to my no-more-men plan, but for tonight I'm going to enjoy everything Hendrix is willing to give me.