Chapter 41
Braxton
There’s no moment of confusion when I drag my eyes open in the morning, catching the warm glow of the rising sun peeking through the curtains. There’s no breathless pause where I wonder where I am, because I haven’t felt so…at home in well over half a year.
Gracie is sleeping beside me, her breathing quiet and steady. She’s facing me, her hands tucked under her head, her cheeks rosy. I can’t stop myself from taking a strand of her warm brown hair, twining it around my finger and tugging gently on it.
I should let her sleep. We both woke several times throughout the night, always reaching for each other as if we needed the reassurance that we were still here…
still together. But after so long without her, I can’t resist the urge to curl my body around hers, tucking one arm under her neck and sliding the other under the blankets and over the bare skin of her hips.
She murmurs softly, pressing her face into my neck, her lips grazing my skin and making me shiver. But then she’s rolling away, putting her back to my chest—and her ass against my hardening dick.
“Gracie?” I whisper, but she only sighs, her body relaxing in my arms. I slide my hand down the expanse of her silky thigh, digging my fingers into her skin with a muted groan. She shifts, and my cock slides against the cleft of her ass, making me ache with need.
I dig my fingers into her leg, just above the knee, lifting to come over my mine, and then I slide a hand between our bodies, sliding my cock between her legs and against her already-wet pussy.
A sharp gasp escapes Gracie as I roll my hips, the crown of my dick nudging her swollen clit, even as our combined release from the night coats my shaft.
“Braxton?” Her voice is breathy, filled with want.
“Yeah, baby,” I rasp. “You sore?”
“Yes,” she hums. “But don’t stop.” She arches her back, stretching, and the new angle traps the crown of my cock in her entrance. I take full advantage, sliding through her slick folds, lazily thrusting into her as I clamp a hand down on her tit.
“Fuck, Rumpel.” I lean my head down, pressing my jaw to hers, feeling the way her cheek tugs up in a smile. “I want to wake up like this every day.”
Gracie’s breathless voice is still husky with sleep as she tells me, “I wouldn’t be opposed.” She grabs my hand, directing it down between her legs, pressing my fingers to her clit. “Make me come.”
“As the lady commands,” I chuckle right into her ear, smirking when she shivers, her pussy clamping down on my cock.
I swirl my fingers around her clit, keeping my touch light and teasing—just on the edge of not enough.
Gracie turns her head, capturing my mouth with hers, our tongues dancing sensually against each other before she digs her teeth into my bottom lip.
“Braxton,” her voice is full of warning, and I pinch her roughly, increasing the speed of my thrusts. It doesn’t take long before we’re both panting, our damp bodies moving against each other. The pleasure is verging on pain, but it’s not enough to get me to stop.
Nothing could pull me away from her at this point. The house could be burning down or the world coming to an end, and I wouldn’t let her go.
It’s not about the sex, as fucking great as it is. Gracie is as vital to me as air. I feel like I haven’t taken a full breath since November, and now I’m overflowing with pure oxygen, leaving me light-headed as I try to figure out which way is up.
Gracie’s clit throbs under my fingers, her body going impossibly tight.
She whimpers, her inner walls fluttering around me, and I press my hand to her jaw, turning her face to mine so I can swallow the sound.
My hips and fingers move in tandem, drawing her orgasm out as long as I possibly can.
Just when she starts trying to pull away from my touch, my own climax crests in a slow-rolling wave that has me yanking away from her mouth with a groan.
We lie here together, tangled and joined in the most primal way, our breathing slowly returning to normal and the sweat cooling on our skin. Eventually, my softening cock slips from the snug heat of her body, and Gracie presses her legs together with a groan.
“Oh my god, it smells like an unventilated brothel in here. And you know what? I wasn’t planning on doing any laundry today, but these sheets…”
I laugh, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck, flicking my tongue against the salty taste of her skin. “I can help,” I offer. “I’ll hang your painting, we can do washing, and anything else you need to do.”
With only a minor grimace, Gracie rolls over to face me, her eyes searching my face. “You want to do chores with me?”
I reach up, running a finger from her temple down to her chin. “I’d do just about anything if it meant spending more time with you.”
She doesn’t blink for a breath, and then her nose wrinkles. “It’s too early for this much cheese,” she declares. “I didn’t even want an omelet this morning.” She throws the blanket off, utterly shameless as she stands and stretches, showing off the marks I left on her shoulders and chest.
“That doesn’t even make sense,” I point out, my mouth dry as I pat the bed. “Wait a second. We don’t have to do anything right now, do we? Come here.”
She backs away, warding me off with a hand, even though I haven’t moved. “Oh, no, buddy. No way. I need a shower.”
I don’t even hesitate, kicking away the blankets as I roll off the bed. I look at Gracie, smug satisfaction filling me as her eyes glaze over, filling with heat as she takes me in. “Sounds good.”
Gracie blinks, pulling her eyes back to mine. “What sounds good?”
I flash my teeth in a grin. “A shower, baby. Let’s go shower.”
Her throat moves on a swallow before she narrows her eyes on me. “I was going to shower alone.”
I wink. “More fun together.” I don’t wait for an answer, sauntering out of the room, feeling the way her eyes never leave me as I go.
Thirty minutes later, I’m dressed in my pants from the night before—sans boxers—and running a towel over my head, catching the last of the water.
Gracie’s still in the bathroom, applying moisturizer to her legs.
I lingered in the room, my mouth dry as I watched her, and dick giving a valiant jerk even though I was confident that there was no possible way I could go again.
But then her stomach rumbled, and as much as I wanted to keep watching—touching—I am on a mission to sort us out some breakfast.
I hook the towel around my neck as I move through the house, but freeze when a solid knock sounds on the door. Annoyed at the interruption to our morning, I yank the thing open, my scowl fading as I’m faced with the surprised faces of my parents.
Analise grins at me from where she’s standing just a step behind them, eyes identical to mine flashing with amusement. “Told you we should have called, Mom.”
Mom hushes her, leaning toward me. “Braxton?” She pokes a finger into my chest, making me realize I’m still shirtless. “Does this mean what I think it means?”
Dad clears his throat. “Rae, tone it down. You’re embarrassing the boy.”
I’m not embarrassed, just annoyed they’re invading my morning with Gracie. But I’ve also learned enough over the years not to say that. Instead, I step aside to let them in, yelling into the house, “Rumpel, we’ve got company. Don’t come out naked.”
Analise follows our parents inside with a groan. “I have enough nightmares, and now this.” She throws a disgusted glance at my bare chest. “Seriously? Who opens the door shirtless? I haven’t even had a coffee this morning. I don’t need to see this.”
Mom pauses halfway to the kitchen, turning with a frown. “Since when do you drink coffee?”
Analise’s expression doesn’t change. “Probably around the same time I started drinking tequila.”
Dad snorts. “You don’t drink tequila. Now pull out one of your smutty books and stop trying to ruin my delusions of my daughter.”
Analise’s mouth drops open, a matching expression of horror to my own. “Dad,” she says slowly, “how do you know the word smutty?”
Dad snorts. “I know things,” he says arrogantly, but then Mom tells us, “He overheard me talking to my friends about starting a new book club, and he asked questions he didn’t want the answers to.”
Dad shoots Mom a dark glare, but before he can retort, Gracie steps into the room, her hair damp and curling around her head, her expression unsure as she takes everyone in.
She’s dressed in leggings and my shirt—a fact that makes me want to beat my fists against my chest before dragging her back to the bedroom to strip it off her again.
Restraining myself, I step to her side and press a kiss to her flushed cheek.
“Morning, Gracie,” Dad greets. “Raewyn brought breakfast, so I hope you’re hungry.” His eyes twinkle as they bounce between us, and Gracie tenses under my arm.
“Dad,” I tell him warningly, and he shrugs lightly.
“I’m not hiding how much I like this for the two of you,” he murmurs, even as he turns and walks away, Analise hot on his heels.
Gracie’s face is bright red, and she hides it against my shoulder. “That’s not what I thought was going to happen this morning.”
“One way to let the cat out of the bag.” I laugh, drawing her through the house toward the kitchen, where we can hear Mom going through the cabinets as she chats away to Dad and Analise. “I’m not mad about it.”
“You’re not?”
I shake my head as we stop in the doorway, watching my family—our family—move around the space like they belong. I look down at Gracie, her eyes wide with wonder. “I want to tell the world that you’re mine, and this feels like a pretty great start.”