Chapter 5: Mirror, Mirror on the Wall
The car ride home was a vacuum, filled only by the hum of the engine and the ghost of what they’d done. Jack drove, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. Lois stared out her window, but he could feel the heat radiating from her, a silent, frantic energy. She hadn’t spoken since her command at the hot tub.
The front door clicked shut behind them, a sound as final as a gunshot. The familiar scent of their home—lemon polish and old books—felt alien now.
She turned to him in the dim hallway. Her eyes were dark pools, her lipstick smeared. Without a word, she grabbed the hem of her damp sundress and pulled it over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She stood there in just her sandals, her body still gleaming from the hot tub, smelling of chlorine and Roy.
“Look at me,” she said, her voice low and rough.
He did. He saw the faint red marks on her hips from Roy’s grip, the flush on her skin that wasn’t from the water. A possessive fury, hot and clean, surged through him. This was his. She was his.
He grabbed her, his mouth crashing down on hers. It wasn’t a kiss of love, but of conquest. She met him with equal ferocity, her teeth scraping his lip, her tongue demanding entry. Her hands tore at his shirt, buttons pinging off the wall. He kicked off his shoes, shoved his shorts down, and walked her backward, never breaking the kiss, down the hall and into their bedroom.
The large mirror on the closet door faced the bed. He spun her around to face it. “Watch,” he growled into her ear, his hands gripping her shoulders. “Watch me take you back.”
Her eyes, wide and wild, met his in the glass. He saw the thrill in them. He reached around, his hands cupping her heavy breasts, squeezing them, pinching her nipples until she cried out. His cock, hard and aching, slid between her thighs from behind, seeking. She was already slick, ready. The memory of Roy being inside her flashed in his mind, a brutal, unwanted image that only made him harder.
He positioned himself and drove into her with one brutal thrust.
“Fuck!” Lois screamed, her hands slapping against the mirror, her head thrown back. Her reflection showed a face twisted in ecstasy. “Yes! Jack! God, just like that!”
He set a punishing rhythm, his hips slamming against her plump ass, the sound a wet, meaty slap that echoed in the room. He watched it all in the mirror—the jiggle of her flesh, the sweat already beading on his own chest, the raw, carnal joining of their bodies. It was a reclaiming. A branding.
“You liked it, didn’t you?” he grunted, his breath hot on her neck. “You liked his thick cock stretching you open.”
“Yes!” she moaned, her eyes rolling back. “It was so… different. So big.”
Her admission was a spike of heat in his gut. He fucked her harder, deeper, wanting to erase the feeling, wanting to become the only feeling she could remember.
“You want it again?” he demanded, his voice a ragged thing. “You want his fucking cock again?”
Lois’s eyes found his in the mirror, glazed and utterly honest. “Next time,” she panted, her words coming in ragged bursts between his thrusts, “I want… I want to suck it. I want to get on my knees… and taste him… while you watch me.”
The image she painted, so filthy and specific, detonated something inside him. A guttural roar tore from his throat. He plunged into her, over and over, his vision narrowing to the sight of her body taking his, to the sound of her wanton cries. The mirror began to fog at the edges from their panting breath.
Her first orgasm hit her suddenly. Her body clenched around him like a fist, a sharp, strangled scream ripped from her throat. She convulsed, her knees buckling. He held her up, never stopping his relentless pace. “Again,” he commanded. “Come for me again, Lois.”
He slid a hand around her hip, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing rough, frantic circles. She was so sensitive, so overloaded, that a second climax seized her almost immediately. This one was a long, shuddering wail, her entire body trembling violently, her juices slicking his pounding cock.
He felt his own end approaching, a tidal wave building in his spine. He was mindless now, an animal driving into his mate. He fucked her through a third, sobbing orgasm, her pleas and whimpers music to his primal brain.
“I’m gonna fill you up,” he grunted, his thrusts becoming erratic, desperate. “Gonna mark you. Mine.”
With a final, deep plunge, he came. A hot, rushing flood erupted from him, pulsing into her depths with each savage jerk of his hips. He held himself there, buried to the hilt, as he emptied himself inside her, his own shout muffled against her shoulder.
For a long moment, they stayed like that, propped against the foggy mirror, their bodies slick with sweat, their breath coming in ragged gasps. He slowly pulled out, his spent cock dragging against her, a stream of his cum immediately dripping down her inner thighs, onto the carpet.
His strength gave out. He collapsed backward onto the bed, pulling her with him. She fell atop him, a boneless, breathing weight. The only sound was the frantic hammering of their hearts, slowly beginning to slow.
He stared at the ceiling, the aftershocks still tingling in his limbs. The fury was gone, replaced by a hollow, stunned exhaustion. Lois nuzzled into his neck, her breath warm on his skin.
“Jack?” she whispered, her voice small and raw.
He didn’t answer. He just tightened his arms around her, holding on in the quiet, terrible aftermath.