He laughs, shooing me away. “Go. Enjoy. I’ll talk to you later.”
I take off my boots and set them beside the door before I walk through it. The house smells like cinnamon and apples, a scent my mother loved and I’ve never changed.Maybe it’s time to do that.
The thought twists my heart, yet it feels right.
“Hey,” Mira says, smiling brightly at me. “Your washing machine is royally screwed. Are you aware of that?”
I pull her into me and give her a kiss before answering. “Yes, I do know that. Cathy’s been on my ass about it for months.”
“Is there a reason you didn’t replace it?”
“Yup. I didn’t know which one to get. I was waiting on you to pick it out.”
She laughs, leading me down the hall. “We’re already married, Charmer. Save your lines for our first fight.”
“Oh, I’m never fighting with you. You can always be right.” I strip my shirt off and toss it into a hamper. “I need to grab a shower. What did you do this evening?”
She sits on the edge of the bed and sighs. “I put my clothes in your closet …”
I stop unbuckling my pants, lifting my eyes to hers. We never discussed what rules remained after our honeymoon. I was afraid to bring it up. But knowing she chose to stay in here means more to me than I could ever explain to her.
“Is that okay?” Her voice’s a little shaky around the edges.
“Is it okay?”Is she serious?“It’s great. It’ll save me time hauling your shit from one of the other rooms in here later.Where it belongs.”
“It does feel that way a little, huh?”
My jeans fall from my hips. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“It feels like my stuff belongs here.” She says the words carefully, as if she has to taste each one. “I’ve never felt like my stuff belonged anywhere, really. It’s an odd feeling.”
I dump my pants and socks into the hamper and try not to acknowledge that she just shared these feelings with me. If I make a big deal about it, she’ll change the subject, and I want her to feel safe to open up to me about anything with no pressure.
“Want to get in the shower with me?” I ask, stepping out of my boxer briefs.
Her gaze drops to my cock, and a slow smile curves her lips. “Why don’t you come here instead?”
I walk toward her. She scoots off the bed, sitting on her knees. Her shirt is off before I even make it to her.
Fuck me.
Is this real life?
“I lost the shirt in case you want to come on my tits.” She smirks.
My heartbeat speeds up as I reach her, and she reaches for my cock. She’s so beautiful on her knees in front of me—because she wants to be there—with her hair pulled away from her face. I put my fingertip under her chin and lift her eyes to mine.
“What?” she asks, confused.
“I just wanted to look at you.” I smile. “Now have your way with me.”
She laughs, wrapping her hand around the base of my shaft. “I want you to know that I’m soaked right now.” She flicks her tongue around the head, licking off the bead of precum. “My thighs are sticky.”
“I’ll fuck you. Just say the word,” I say, hissing as she sucks the tip past her lips and into her wet, warm mouth. “But dammit, that feels good.”
Her lashes are thick and dark as she looks up at me through them. Seeing her like this, with my cock in her mouth and those big tits waiting to be sucked, is enough to make me blow a load on the spot.
“Where do you want to come?” she asks, licking the head like a popsicle.
