I take one step towards him. And then we suddenly reach a point—at the exact same time, like we’re perfectly in sync with each other—where this whole waiting game, the whole idea of patience and denial and delay, delay, delay? It’s not f*****g feasible anymore.
If we don’t consume each other right this goddamn second, I don’t know how I’m going to go on living.
He grabs me, flips me back around to face the mirror, and frees his c**k. He’s in me in a heartbeat, one slow thrust that fills me up fuller than I’ve ever been before. I bite my lip to stifle a cry and plant a hand on the mirror to keep from crumbling beneath him.
There’s nowhere I can’t look, because I’m everywhere. We both are.
And watching him f**k me is the sexiest moment of my life.
I watch greedily as Isaak starts to f**
