I freeze, barely recognizing the woman staring back at me.
My hair is an absolute disaster—a tangled, wild mess that looks like I’ve been through a hurricane. Which I suppose is fitting after what Grant keeps calling me.
There are strands sticking up in every direction, and I’m pretty sure there’s a knot somewhere in the back that’s going to take half a bottle of conditioner and a lot of patience to work out.
My skin is flushed and slightly blotchy, marked with red patches along my neck and collarbone where his stubble has scraped against me over and over. And the hickeys… holy fuck. There’s one just below my ear and two more at the base of my neck. I turn sideways to get a better look in the mirror, and yeah, there’s another one on the curve of my shoulder.
Even my lips are swollen and tender, still a bright pink from all the kissing.
I look nothing like my normal self. Even after standing and staring, squinting as I look for the single mom who is admittedlyslightly disheveled but still mostly put together and ready to take care of everyone else in my life… I don’t really see her. She’s not in the room with us at the moment.
The woman I’m looking at has been thoroughly, completely, absolutely wrecked.
And she’s honestly kind of sexy.
A smile spreads across my face as I lean in closer to the mirror and examine every mark, every sign of what we’ve been doing. I can’t put my finger on exactly what it was, but there’s no denying that something snapped in both of us the moment we finally gave in and stopped fighting what was bound to happen.
We’ve basically been in bed since that moment, only taking breaks to hydrate, catch our breath and let our bodies recover for a few minutes at a time.
I haven’t felt this insatiable since I was a teenager. Even then, I usually didn’t give in to my raging hormones or act out every fantasy that popped into my head. But with Grant, it’s been no holds barred, constantly craving him, constantly reaching for him, needing his hands on me, his mouth on mine, and his body pressed against me.
The fact that he’s been just as desperate for me makes it even sweeter.
Grant’s reflection appears in the mirror behind me, as if he’s been conjured by my dirty thoughts. Like me, he’s still completely naked, and even after everything we’ve done this weekend, the sight of him still makes my breath catch in my throat.
He’s so damn gorgeous it almost doesn’t seem real.
All those hard muscles, the thick tattoos that cover his chest and shoulders, and the way he moves with such easy confidence. Even just standing here, he looks like he was carved from stone by an artist who happened to share my exact vision of male perfection.
He steps up closer behind me, and I meet his eyes in the mirror. His gaze has been roaming up and down my body, too, and all I can do is sigh and lean back against him when he lowers his head to press his lips against the side of my neck.
His arm wraps around my waist and pulls me closer while his other hand slides down between my legs.
I wince.
I can’t help it. I’m sore—more sore than I want to admit—from all the sex we’ve been having. Even though every ache and twinge is a reminder of just how thoroughly he’s claimed me, it’s also another reminder that I’m not twenty anymore.
Not even thirty anymore.
He freezes immediately, and I can see the worry reflected in his handsome features.
“You sore?”
I nod. “A little.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He starts to pull his hand away, and I can see that the concern is quickly changing over to guilt. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” I say, catching his wrist before he can fully pull away. And to be fair, I asked for every inch of him. Repeatedly.
I guide his big hand back between my legs.
“And anyway,” I shrug, then smile at him in the mirror. “I’m not that sore.”
“Fuck,” he growls as one of his thick fingers finds its way to my clit and slowly starts to circle the over-stimulated nub. “You’re already wet again.”
I bite my lip and try to suppress the whimper building in my throat, but he adds a little more pressure and I melt against him.
“That’s right, beautiful.” His words send a shiver of anticipation up my spine, and his teeth lightly scrape against my earlobe. “You like when I touch you like this?”
