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My bare feet pad across the cool wood floors and into the kitchen. Turning on the light, I spot my coffee cup in the sink beside the shaker cup Maddox used for his pre-workout this morning and a rainbow-decorated scrub top that’s hanging from the back of a bar stool at the island.
Ever since our first night together a few weeks ago, my stuff has started to fill this place—a pair of slippers here and my favourite silk pillowcase there. I’ve been watching it happen with both eyes open, and I haven’t made any move to slow down my roll. I’m pretty sure Dox has been slipping things into his overnight bag on the nights he stays at my place and depositing them here when I’m at work, and it makes me feel all fuzzy inside. Not scared or nervous like I thought it would.
Our lives are becoming intertwined so effortlessly. That’s a good sign, right? Because it sure feels like one.
“Are you hungry? I can order in if you want to take a bath. There are those fancy bath bombs you like in a jar beside the tub,” Maddox says, setting my purse on the slim table by the front door. Keys clatter into the ceramic bowl beside it as he kicks off his shoes.
Dropping an elbow to the island, I rest my cheek in my palm and watch as he follows me, lips lifted in a natural smile, one that always seems to be there lately. My stomach swoops when he bends down to kiss me, one hand on my waist and the other softly cupping my jaw.
Hours spent watching my man strut around in nothing but a pair of underwear and posing with my favourite dog in the entire world have made me more wound up than I’ve ever been. One innocent kiss is enough to send me right over the edge, desperate to be touched the way only he can touch me.
“What if I said I wasn’t hungry?” I whisper, leaning back against the counter, my hands starting to wander over his chest, nails scratching at his T-shirt.
“I’d say you’re lying because we haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
“Okay . . .” I tip his head to the side with my nose and press my lips to his jaw, kissing the underside before working my way down over the steady thump in his throat. “What if I just want to do something entirely different first? I’ve been wet for hours, Dox.Sowet.”
A pained sound escapes him when I push the hand he has on my waist over my stomach and down to the space between my thighs. The veins that protrude along the back of his hand flex against my palm, and suddenly, nothing has ever been sexier than a veiny hand.
“Have you spent all day with slick thighs, sweetheart?”
He takes control of his hand now, using his fingers to push my dress up until a cool breeze hits my inner thighs and the centre of my wet panties. His eyes trace my features, watching my expression the further my dress climbs. The moment the tip of his finger brushes my pussy, I’m slouching forward, dropping my head to his shoulder as the single touch sends a zap up my middle.
“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he groans, moving his finger in a circle over the satin, avoiding my clit.
My hips push forward, seeking more than just the hint of a touch. His pupils are so big as he watches me that the green is nearly washed out.
“For what?” I gasp.
One long finger slips under the side of my panties and pushes them to the side before dipping between the folds of my pussy. He rubs his finger up and down, inching closer to my clit with each upstroke. I spread my legs as much as possible while standing, but annoyance nips at me when he still doesn’t give me what I want.
“I should have taken care of this earlier. Should have taken you to a dark room and eaten this pretty cunt until you begged me to take you home and fill you up. I’ll make it up to you, though, baby. I promise.”
My eyes roll back at the dirty promise. “Please. I need you right now.”
He pushes his finger deep inside of me, and I buck up, hands grabbing at his shirt, using his body as an anchor. Another finger joins the first as he starts to fuck me with them, scissoring them inside of me until my knees are threatening to buckle, and my grip on him is the only thing keeping me on my feet.
“Maddox,” I beg, not sure what I’m even asking for at this point. Desperation thrums in my veins, turning my head fuzzy and my lips loose. “Just fuck me.Right now.”
“That’s it, sweet girl. Tell me what you want.”
His other hand drops to the front of his jeans as he pops open the button and pushes down the zipper. The tip of his cock is pushing against the waistband of his briefs, wet with precum. My mouth waters, desperate to have him in my mouth.
“You want my cock, Braxton?” he asks, shoving both his jeans and underwear down.
I nod, eyes glazing over as he grips it in a tight fist, giving it two slow pumps before collecting the precum on his thumb and lifting it to my lips. They part instantly, and he pushes his thumb inside.
“Suck,” he orders, nostrils flaring when I do as he says without hesitation, his taste making my thighs rub together.
There’s something oh so satisfying about seeing the man you love turn feral with desire for you, and watching Maddox lose his grip on control has me on the brink of orgasm before we’ve even really started.
He pulls his thumb from between my lips, and I let it go with a loud pop. There’s a beat of silence where neither of us moves before he’s lifting me by the hips and setting me on the island.
His throat moves with a swallow before he says, “Tell me you’re mine, Braxton. Tell me you’re never leaving me again, and I’ll slide in deep and fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow without feeling me inside of you.”
“Never again, Dox. I’m yours,” I breathe, holding his stare, meeting the intensity of it with one of my own. The fire in his eyes spreads to my core, and I shudder, pressing my thighs around his hips, drawing him between them.
I watch the space between us when he lines his cock up with my pussy and starts to slip it back and forth over my entrance, coating himself in my arousal. I’m dripping for him, so greedy to feel the stretch and burn that follows the first thrust.
