Darius laughs. He's not sure how to explain Axel’s insistence that they needed condoms in every room. That Darius thought it a ridiculous notion until this very instant.
But it turns out, he doesn't need to.
“Axel.” Sunday's lips twitch. “He might be the most annoying, but I have a feeling you and Grayson needed it.”
Darius quirks his lips as he slides the condom into place.
But then his memory catches on their first time.
“What if I got you preg–”
Sunday cuts him off, “Carrie gave me a plan B.”
Darius isn't sure exactly how to answer. On one hand he wants more than anything to fill Sunday with his cum, for her to be pregnant with his child. But they're so fucking young.
The loops were literal years, but it wasn't as if they were living. It was time for them all to slow down. To enjoy each other.
And then maybe down the road they could have the conversation, but the brothers already discussed they would leave it up to Sunday.
“The date.” Sunday is staring at his tattoos. Her hand outstretched towards it.
The wildflower and the date.
August 14th.
“It's not for Axel and Tripp’s birthday, is it?”
Darius steps forward until she's brushing his skin. “No. It's a reminder of what we were fighting for.Who.”
She traces the lines of the fourteen before skipping to the wildflower, beginning at the top and working her way down the stem.
His hand whips out, covering hers. “Sunday. I think you're ready, but if you need me to stop?”
“Stop,” she confirms haughtily.
Her attitude hits Darius in the gut. He takes it as a challenge.
His plan twists.
He yanks her unceremoniously off the counter and flips her around.
Now she's bent over the counter, facing the mirror. His eyes take in her breasts as they bounce from his jostling. He lines up behind her, bending his knees until he is the perfect height.
With the condom on, with how he readied her, with how drenched she is, it isn’t as hard this time to work his way inside her. But with this angle?
She is suffocating his dick. It is the most earth-shattering feeling and it takes everything for him to not cum as soon as he is fully sheathed inside her.
She tries to escape him, but there's nowhere to go. She's trapped between him and the counter.
And the mirror.
Fuck, watching her from this angle is hypnotic.
The heat in her cheeks, her mouth opened on a silent scream, her pink nipples hardened to points.
“Rub your clit,” he commands her.
He allows her the space to do so, and then he finds his handles.
