My feet stop moving. My heart sure doesn't.
She catches my eyes in the mirror and keeps brushing, like everything about this is normal, and she hasn't just lit a fuse in every part of me that matters.
“Morning,” she mumbles around the toothbrush, foam clinging to the corner of her mouth.
I step in behind her without a word, half in a daze, and wrap my arms around her waist, dragging her to me so she can feel exactly how much trouble she's in. She's warm, soft, and smells of mint, and all I want is to press myself into every damn inch of her.
“You trying to kill me?” I murmur against her ear, watching her eyes in the mirror. “Pink lace, darlin'? Really?”
She smirks around her toothbrush, then spits into the sink, rinsing her mouth before tilting her head toward mine.
“Figured it was time I embraced the brand.”
I growl low in my throat, hands sliding up her ribs, palms flat and greedy. Her nipples pebble under my touch, and she leans into it, into me, like she's amped up for this as much as I am.
“Gonna make me late for breakfast,” I say, mouth brushing the curve of her shoulder, stubble scraping the curve of her breast. She shudders.
“Pancakes can wait.”
I kiss her neck and let one hand slip lower, sliding under the elastic, through soft curls and into her slickness. She's ready, and I've barely touched her. She gasps, gripping the counter, and arches her back, presenting her body like a dream.
“Jaxon…”
“Shh,” I whisper. “I got you, baby.”
It takes seconds to free my cock and even less time to pull her panties aside and drive into her tight, wet heat. In the mirror, I watch as her lips part and her eyes widen. I take her hands and place them on the cool glass, holding them there as I fuck into her in long slick strokes that makes us both groan. Her body is bent over the vanity, stretched out and sexy, back arched and ass jiggling with every impact.God, she's so damned perfect; my brain glitches looking at her.
“Fuck, Jaxon. Fuck… that's so hot,” she says as I grip her hips and pile into her over and over and over again. But it's not enough. I want to kiss her and capture her moans, so I pull out and turn her slowly until she's backed against the tiled wall. She pulls my shirt over my head, fingers fumbling for my cock. We don't speak. We don't have to.
I lift her with a groan, her thighs hooking around my waist, and I push inside an inch. Her breath stutters. Mine stops. For a second, the world narrows to our heat and heartbeats and the sound of her whispering my name like it's the only one that matters.
“Jaxon.”
“Fuck.” My legs shake with anticipation as she flutters around me, fitting like she always has: tight, hot, and so goddamn perfect I forget how to breathe. Her head falls back against the wall with a soft thud, lips parted on a moan that slams into me harder than any ranch work ever could.
“You want my cock, sweetheart?”
“Yes.” Her eyes meet mine, and I give her another inch.
“Yes, what, darlin'?”
“Yes, please.”
I give her another inch.
“Jaxon!” She wiggles her hips, but I hold firm as her pussy grips me tight enough to send stars sparkling across my vision.
“Count, Gracie. And I'll give you more. Four.”
“Four.”
I slide in further, and her lips part. They’re not red today, but still beautiful. “Five,” she groans.
“Faster,” I grunt.
“Six, seven.”
I give her more, my balls tightening, my spine tingling. I'm deep, but I want in deeper.
