Marble counters. A rainfall shower. Towels folded like someone else does laundry for him. It’s a stark reminder of the world he lives in. The one I don’t quite belong to.
I use the bathroom, wash my hands, and stare at my reflection for a moment.
I look flushed. Satisfied. A little undone. But my body feels used in the best way.
I walk back to the bedroom, and I stop at the end of the bed.
The sheet appears to have shifted.
Colton is sprawled on his back now, one arm flung over his head, the other resting at his side. The sheet barely covers him, stopping low on his hips, leaving his chest and stomach completely exposed.
My eyes remain glued to him.
God …
Morning light traces every hard line of him. From his broad shoulders, defined abs, to where his skin is still marked faintly from where I kissed him last night. He looks unfairly good like this.
Without thinking, I walk to his side of the bed and let my fingertips trail over his chest, down the ridges of muscle, committing the feel of him to memory.
His hand snaps around my wrist.
I gasp softly as his eyes open, already sharp, already awake in that way that tells me he’s been aware of me longer than I realized.
A slow, knowing smirk curves his mouth.
“I was gentle with you last night,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep and something darker underneath. His grip tightens enough to make my pulse jump. “But right now?”
His gaze drags over me, deliberate and heated.
“I want you rough.”
The answer is already burning on my tongue.
“Yes.”
And the look he gives me is full of hunger and power, like he’s about to lose both. It tells me exactly how the rest of the morning is going to go.
“Take off my shirt,” he demands.
I lift his white shirt over my head and toss it to the ground.
“Did you get wet while you groped me?” he asks.
“I wasn’t groping …” I start, but he cuts me off.
“Semantics.” He sits up and stands behind me, hands moving from my stomach up to my breasts. “Perfect,” he whispers as he massages them.
I lean my head back against his chest, and he plays with me. Then he pinches both nipples before walking me toward the bed and pushing me forward.
My hands fall to the edge of the bed. I turn my head and see him sink to his knees.
“I’ve never had a woman spend the night before,” he says as he takes my ass cheeks and spreads them. “I didn’t realize the benefit of having pussy for breakfast.”
Then he licks me from my clit all the way up to between my cheeks. A place I’ve never once been touched. I cry out in shock but also because of how good it felt.
He stops for a second, and I look back over my shoulder. His eyebrows are raised.
“Has no one tasted your ass before?”