I wish that he was too.
My pussy squeezes and spasms around him, the intensity of my orgasm pulling a raw, desperate moan from my throat. My head drops, but Boone’s hand is there, tilting my chin up, forcing me to watch myself in the mirror.
It’s the most vulnerable and erotic thing I’ve ever seen—my reflection, his thick fingers wrapped around my throat like a necklace, my lips parked, gasping for hair, him holding me in place to watch my orgasm play out across my face.
I feel sexy. Powerful. Like I know my own body for the first time, and it’s all because of him.
“Boone,” I cry out, my voice trembling as he fucks me through it. “It’s too much.”
“It’s never too much with us,” he growls, his hips slamming into mine one last time. He buries himself to the root, his body locking as his own orgasm tears through him.
I watch him in the mirror—the veins in his neck bulge, his jaw tight as a feral, unrestrained growl rips from his chest. He looks wild, like a man undone, and I’ve never seen anything sexier in my life.
I'm doing that to him. I’m the one making him feel good.
His right hand shoots out to grab on to something to steady himself, the sink towel holder catches the brunt of it, and he rips the whole thing from the wall, leaving nothing but a mark of dry wall and shattered metal across my countertop.
“Fuck,” he says, the holder in his grip as he looks down at it. “Fuck I just broke your bathroom.”
I laugh, the sound soft and breathy, and the movement makes my pussy tighten around him. His eyes darken instantly. Even though he’s already come, he pushes back into me anyway, like he can’t help himself.
I feel the way he reacts, so I clench again, just to watch his jaw tighten as he loses himself all over again.
“Pussy so good you got me breaking shit in your bathroom,” he teases.
Then he pulls himself out, tosses the condom into the trash and scoops me into his arms.
“I’ll fix that too,” he says casually like he plans to be here for the long haul. Making upgrades to my home.
Then he carries me to the shower, dumping me under the warm spray with a satisfied grin. “But first, we’re showering together again.”
Chapter 31: Boone
Even though I have no sense of the time and know damn well that I shouldn’t risk pissing off Rosie’s brother by being late for our meet-up, I can’t bring myself to care.
I’m back in the shower with her, taking my time, slowly washing her body and hair.?
The soft smell of her rose scented conditioner fills the steamy space, mingling with the warmth of the water that’s cascading around us. Her dark blonde hair feels like silk beneath my fingers as I lather it up, using my nails to gently massage her scalp.
Rosie rests against my chest, her body relaxed and pliant, her breathing steady. It’s such an intimate thing, washing her hair, taking care of her, we aren’t talking yet I find myself savoring every second of the closeness.
Once I’m sure she’s clean, I guide her into the steady stream of water that’s been peppering her chest, carefully rinsing the soap from her hair. My fingers comb through the strands, makingsure I don’t leave any trace behind, and I can’t help but notice how natural this all feels.
Hell, everything about being with her, whether it’s the mind-blowing sex, eating a simple dinner together, or falling asleep next to her, just feelsright.
I grab the bar of rose-scented soap from the ledge and work up a lather, letting my hands roam over her body. I start with her shoulders, working the tension out of her muscles, then move to her back. My hands glide down to her chest, where I take extra time on her breasts, not because they need it, but because I can’t resist touching them.
Her soft skin and the way she lets out the faintest sighs under my touch are my addiction.
Eventually, my hands wander lower, and I crouch down to give her legs and feet the same careful attention. My fingers slide over her thighs, then down to her calves and ankles, and finally to her toes.
I’m cleaning her, yes, but I’m also cataloging every inch of her body and committing it to memory for later.
The damn shower curtain brushes against my leg, and I growl low in my throat before pushing it away. The flimsy plastic piece has been driving me nuts since I first stepped in here.
I’m going to rip it out and replace it with something better—hell, to gut the whole shower and give her something worthy of her. A rain faucet above, jets on the bottom. She deserves that and more, and I’d kill to be the man to give it all to her, even if it means breaking into my precious life savings.
Money doesn't mean anything to me anymore when it comes to spending on her. I want her to have the world. I want to make this home her dream house with me.
