Page 69 of The Encore Effect

Understanding flashed across her face as her eyes flitted to the mirror on the opposite wall, then back to him, her pupils blown black. He nuzzled into her hair. “I have condoms in my jacket.”

“When did you have time to get condoms?”

He shrugged. “Made time.” He pinched her nipple, and she sucked in a sharp breath that made his cock pulse, desperate to be inside her. “Last night… I won’t be careless with you.”

She caught his eyes in the mirror. “I know you won’t.” Lacing her fingers through his, she urged him to squeeze her breast again. “If you want to use condoms—”

“What do you want, Luna?”

“I want to feel you, nothing between us, just us.”

Her trust was a gift, one he didn’t deserve, one he would spend the rest of his life earning if she’d let him. He squeezed her hip. “Just us,” he agreed, his lips against her throat.

Slowly she lifted herself up enough that he could grip the base of his erection and guide it to her slick entrance. She was soaked and ready, but still he could feel her body stretching to make room for him as his tip slipped inside her. She shivered in his arms, her eyes falling closed.

“Watch, baby,” he said, nudging her cheek with his nose. “Watch how well you take me.”

She lowered herself slowly, both of them fixated on the picture they made in the mirror as he disappeared inside her. When he was fully seated, they both released a heavy sigh, the impossible heat and tight hold of her around him made more intense by watching themselves. He dropped a hand between her legs, spreading the V of his fingers around the place where they were connected.

“Look at you,” he whispered, stroking his fingertips over her stretched opening.

“Look at us,” she said, her hand covering his, mimicking the motion. In the mirror, her engagement ring glimmered, catching the light. She wrapped her hand around his wrist and gently moved his fingers to where she wanted them, pressing them against the swollen bundle of nerves just above her opening. “Make me come, Beckett.”

He banded his other arm around her, pressing the palm of his hand firmly to her lower belly as his fingertips strummed over her clit. As the last bits of his restraint fell away, he drove up into her, thrusting hard and fast. She met him thrust for thrust, bouncing on his cock as she plucked at her nipples, their eyes locked in the mirror. She was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen, every soft curve, every reverberation of their fucking in the movement of her belly, her thighs, her breasts.

“Beckett,” she moaned as her inner walls began to flutter around him.

“Fucking get there, Luna,” he grunted, pressing harder on her belly and angling his hips to hit that secret place behind her clit that made her eyes roll back in her head and her breath catch in her chest.

“Come with me,” she gasped, her thighs shaking. Between the pulses of her body around him and her breathy demand, his own climax barreled down on him.

He clenched his jaw, staving off his orgasm. “You sure?”

“Yes!” she cried, her head falling back. “Please, Beckett. Come inside me. I want you to. Please.” The last word was lost on a stuttered breath as she came, her inner muscles clamping down on him and drawing his own orgasm from him in sudden hot bursts, the shock of its intensity punching the air from his lungs as wave after wave of pleasure wracked his body.

When at last their orgasms subsided, she caught his eye in the mirror with a knowing grin that sent a fresh jolt of arousal to his softening erection. Christ, this woman. He was still inside her and already contemplating round two, round three.

She reached between her legs, dragging one finger up the underside of his cock as it still rested inside her. The tender touch was like electricity on his sensitive skin. She lifted her finger to the mirror, showing him the drop of cum she’d gathered, and popped it between her lips, humming happily as she did.

“Mine,” she said.

Beckett grinned, pressing his lips to her shoulder, scraping his teeth over the place where her shoulder met her neck. “Yours.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Someone was knocking on the flimsy door to their tour bus bedroom and Kat briefly wondered if she could reach Beckett’s shoe to fling at them without leaving the little spoon position she’d happily adopted the last few nights.

“What time is it?” Beckett asked, his voice sleep-rough and delicious against her cheek.

“Too early,” she groaned, refusing to open her eyes and check the actual time.

“Go the fuck away!” he barked at whoever was knocking.

“Time to get up, love birds!” came Nico’s too-cheerful reply. “We’re going to be late for Rise and Shine, Missouri.”

“Shit.” Kat sat up in bed and threw back the covers. “My alarm must not have gone off.”

Beckett sighed and reached for his glasses on the nightstand. “It’ll be fine. Come back to bed.”