He Divorced Me in Front of Four Hundred People, So I Moved Into His Rival's Glass Penthouse novel · Chapter 19 of 24

Chapter 19: Hall of Mirrors

Every wall of the suite was a mirror, and in all of them a man was carrying a woman across the room.

The door had slammed behind us.

I had one arm around his neck and my shoes in the other hand, and I dropped the shoes where I was.

"Twenty of us," Leighton said into my throat. "Count them."

"I can't count. You're biting me."

He set me down on the long marble dresser under the biggest glass, and the stone was cold through my silk.

I wore a black silk dress with a long zip down the back, because he had asked me to.

He went to his knees and took off my shoes.

Then he stood and took the zip in his fingers and drew it open, slowly, the way he had that first night.

"This time I get to finish," he said.

"Please."

The silk dropped to my waist.

I wore nothing under it.

In the mirrors I saw my back, my breasts, my belly, and a man behind me reflected in every angle, and I stopped breathing.

"Look," he said.

"At what?"

"At everything. Twenty of you. Twenty of me. All of us wanting the same thing."

He pushed the dress the rest of the way over my hips and lifted me and stepped between my knees.

My thighs fell open around his waist.

"Hands up," he said.

I lifted them.

He caught both my wrists in one big hand and pinned them against the mirror over my head.

My back arched.

My breasts rose toward him.

He lowered his mouth to them, and I made a sound I wouldn't have made in front of Bryce in nine years of marriage.

"I'm going to fuck you here," he said, "and you're going to watch."

"Yes."

"Tell me you want it."

"I want it so much I could scream. Please. Leighton, please."

His free hand dropped to his belt.

I heard the leather slide, the zip, and then he had his cock in his hand, dark and thick, pressing at my entrance.

He did not push in.

He rubbed the head up and down through my folds, and I shook, and my hips tried to chase it.

"Look in the mirror on the left," he said.

I turned my head.

On the left a woman sat on a dresser with her wrists in a man's fist and her thighs spread.

A cock glided over her pussy.

Her face was flushed and her lips were parted and her eyes were huge.

"That's you," Leighton said. "That's what I get to look at."

"Do you see her?"

"I see every inch of her."

"Then put it in."

"Ask nicely."

"Put your cock in my pussy, Leighton, please, I'm dripping on the marble."

He made a rough sound and pressed the head of it against me.

He held it there, an inch inside, so I could feel it stretch me.

"Watch her take it," he said.

He pushed in.

It was one long hard stroke, all the way to the hilt, and my head knocked back against the mirror.

I came a little, right there, just from the fullness, a hot squeeze that made him groan.

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