Page 139 of Mission Shift

His eyes dropped, and he licked his lips.

Then his hand came up, cupping one of my breasts, his thumb brushing across the nipple. My breath hitched, and his eyes snapped back to mine. He seemed to be measuring my reaction.

I didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away.

So he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the base of my throat, then another to the edge of my collarbone. He moved lower—his mouth closing around one nipple while his fingers moved in slow circles over the other.

The roughness of his hands, contrasting with the softness of his mouth, sent electric pulses straight to my core. The way he handled me—it wasn’t demanding. It was deliberate, like he wanted to rewrite something old and ugly, one kiss at a time.

I slid my hands into his wet hair, gripping him gently as each of his touches amplified the wetness pooling between my thighs.

The steam from the shower filled the room.

Braxton looked up at me again, his palm still warm against my breast.

“You deserve to be worshiped, Daria.” His voice was a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine.

And somehow, I believed him.

Braxton brushed his lips over the swell of my breast before he closed them around the aching peak once again. I arched my back, encouraging him as he flicked his tongue over my sensitive bud. My breath stuttered, and my grasp on his hair tightened. I held him there as a moan slipped from my throat.

“Oh, God…Braxton…that feels so good.”

He chuckled against my skin, and the sound vibrated straight through me.

A moment later, he switched to my other breast, lavishing the same attention on it. Using his tongue, lips, and hands, he moved slowly, unhurriedly, like he had no interest in anything but driving me completely out of my mind. My body was now taut with need, every nerve ending thrumming until I swore I was going to fall apart right there.

I whimpered, already right on the edge.

And then he pulled back.

I gasped, still clinging to him. “Wait, where are you going?”

That crooked grin spread across his face. “You were about to come, and I want you to wait just a little longer. Patience, sweetheart.”

I’d never been a patient person.

He straightened and yanked me off the counter, setting me on my feet, and then turned me to face the mirror. I was flushed and rain-soaked, my hair a mess, my breasts rising and falling with each heavy breath. Braxton stood behind me, raking his gaze over every inch of me, like he couldn’t decide where to touch me first.

Finally, he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me back against him.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he murmured into my shoulder, pressing a kiss there. “And the way you respond to me… Christ.”

His hands slid up, cupping my breasts again, and his fingers began playing with my nipples until my knees wobbled.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he said, studying me in the mirror. “Watch what I do to you and how you respond.”

He pinched, rolled, and dragged pleasure out of me like I was his puppet. I didn’t care. I wanted to watch myself fall apart under his touch. A flush of heat ran up my neck to my cheeks as my head fell back, my eyelids dipped, and a moan fell from my lips.

“You like that, hmm?” he whispered.

Then his hands moved to my hips, tugging me away from the counter. He kneeled behind me, hooking his fingers into the band of my leggings and dragging them down, taking my panties with them.

His touch skimmed over my skin as he went—my hips, my thighs, my calves. When he reached my ankles, he lifted one foot at a time, pulling off each sneaker before finally removing the leggings that had bunched up at the bottom.

“Those mile-long legs,” he murmured. “I can’t wait to feel them wrapped around me.”

He worked his way back up, kissing the back of my knee, the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, and then the curve of my ass—making me squirm. As he worked his way higher, he braced one hand against the vanity.

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