He didn't text for two days.
Just long enough to make her ache.To make her stare at the mirror in her bedroom and wonder what she really looked like when she came.
Not the quiet, controlled tremors she'd allowed herself before.
But the real ones.The messy, drenched, twitching ones.The ones he pulled from her with a tongue, a growl, a word.
On the third night, the doorbell rang.
No message. No warning.
Just him—black tee, black jeans, a bulge she pretended not to see.
"Strip. Leave only your bangles."
She did.
She stood there in the yellow light, curves bare, nipples tight, wrists jingling.
He didn't kiss her.
He took her hand and walked her to the mirror.
"Sit. Legs open. Back against the glass."
The mirror was full-length. Cold. Ruthless.
She could see everything.
So could he.
He sat on the edge of the bed, facing her—legs parted, cock still caged behind denim.
"Touch yourself."
She hesitated.
"Touch. Yourself."
Her fingers slid down her stomach, past the ache blooming between her thighs.And when she touched her clit, she gasped.
Because he didn't move.
He just watched. Watched like he was studying her for a masterpiece.
"Now tell me what you see."
"…I see a woman touching herself," she whispered.
"Wrong. Look again.You see a woman on the edge of forgetting who she is.You see a cunt that's swollen from being wanted.You see lips parted.A belly rising.Eyes glazed.You see need."
She moaned—more from his words than her fingers.
"And soon," he growled, standing up, "you'll see how your body opens when I'm inside you."
He unzipped.
And fuck—he was thick.Long. Heavy. Veined.
Her mouth dropped.
He walked toward her, cock in hand.
"Eyes open," he warned. "I want you to watch every second of what I do to you."
And then—he slid inside.
One inch.
Two.
She gasped. Her reflection gasped.
Her body stretched to take him.
"That's it," he said, voice like smoke."See how deep I go?See how your pussy swallows me like it's been waiting?"
She moaned. Her head fell back—then he grabbed her throat. Gently. Firmly.
"Eyes. Open."
And she obeyed.
She watched herself get fucked—
Wet.
Raw.
Rhythmic.
She watched the way her nipples bounced.The way her belly trembled.The way his cock disappeared inside her again and again and again.
"Touch your clit while I fuck you."
Her fingers obeyed.
The pleasure was unholy.
"Come. While watching yourself.I want you to see what I see.A beautiful, ruined, dripping mess."
And when she came—
She screamed.She saw her mouth open. Her hand shake. Her legs twitch.
She watched her own body give up control.
After, he didn't speak.
He just kissed her temple and whispered:
"Now every time you look in a mirror, you'll remember:you're a woman who comes for herself first."