Addicted To You ? [Completed]

Freen didn't take Becky home.

She took her deeper.

To a private suite tucked behind the main hotel — exclusive, hidden and wrapped wall-to-wall in mirrors. The ceiling, the walls, even the corners — nothing escaped reflection.

Becky stepped inside and froze.

It was surreal. A hundred versions of herself stared back — flushed, bitten, naked beneath Freen's oversized shirt.

And in all those mirrors, Freen moved behind her.

Lazily. Predatory.

"Do you know how breathtaking you look when you're ruined?" Freen whispered, brushing her lips against Becky's shoulder.

Becky's throat tightened. "Why here?"

Freen unbuttoned the shirt on Becky. One slow pop at a time.

"Because I want you to see what I see when I f**k you."

The last button fell.

Freen stepped back, eyes trailing every inch of Becky's exposed body — her skin still marked from the night before. Red streaks on her hips. Teeth-shaped bruises on her breasts. Faint burns from ice.

"You've been mine all weekend," Freen said. "But now... you're going to watch what that means."

She guided Becky toward the plush bed in the center of the room.

A black silk scarf sat neatly beside it.

Freen picked it up.

Becky met her eyes in the mirror. Her breathing stuttered.

"Blindfold?"

Freen shook her head. "No, baby. Tonight... you watch."

She wrapped the scarf around Becky's wrists and tied them to the ornate headboard — arms above her, breasts rising with each shaky inhale.

Then Freen stood beside the mirror — and began undressing.

Button by button. Pants sliding down strong thighs. No panty. Only slick confidence and sin in her eyes.

Becky couldn't look away.

"You want me?" Freen asked, climbing onto the bed, crawling up Becky's legs.

"I always want you," Becky whispered.

Freen smirked. "Show me."

She parted Becky's thighs slowly, watching her shudder in every mirror.

Then lowered her head.

Tongue. Fingers. Mouth. Moans.

It was brutal. Honest. Beautiful.

The mirrors reflected it all — Becky twisting, crying out, trying to pull free from silk bonds as Freen licked her until her legs trembled.

Until Becky had to watch herself fall apart.

Freen slid two fingers inside and whispered, "Look at what I do to you."

Becky whimpered. "I can't—"

"You can."

Freen pumped harder, faster, hitting deep until Becky sobbed out her orgasm — loud, hot, wet.

And when Becky collapsed into the pillows, gasping, Freen didn't stop.

She kissed her thighs, sucked every drop, then moved up, straddling Becky's hips.

And for the first time... Freen let herself go.

She rode Becky's stomach slowly, hand between her own legs, eyes locked on Becky's ruined, teary, blissed-out face.

Becky watched Freen come.

Watched — not just saw — every twitch, every cry, every tremble.

It was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen.

And when it was over, Freen collapsed onto her.

Skin to skin. Sweat to sweat. Neither spoke for a long time. Their breaths were uneven. Their hearts chaotic.

Freen untied Becky's wrists, kissing them softly.

"Did it scare you?" she asked.

Becky turned her head. "No. It made me feel... seen."

Freen met her gaze. "That's all I ever wanted you to feel."

And in the silence between their bodies, a terrifying truth settled in both their hearts:

This wasn't just sex anymore.