Page 142 of Mission Shift

Braxton’s hands soon returned to my hips before he spun me back around to face him. The water cascaded over us as our lips met in a hungry kiss, his tongue tangling with mine as his hands slid down to cup my breasts.

He teased my nipples with his thumbs, swirling them gently over the sensitive peaks until I was squirming in his arms. “That’s my girl. Show me what you want,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire.

“Mmm,” was all I could manage in response, my body already on the edge of combustion.

His hands moved back down to my hips, urging me back against the shower wall. I leaned against it, bracing myself as Braxton lowered himself to his knees before me. The spray of the shower pelted against my side while he pressed his lips against my inner thigh, making my knees weak.

“I think this is my favorite view,” he said, kissing my other thigh.

I blinked down at him as he lifted my leg and draped it over his shoulder, his hands bracing me. I raked a hand into his hair, gripping his head for balance.

A throaty moan escaped my lips when Braxton’s mouth connected with my core, working me open. The warmth of his breath, followed by the slick sensation of his tongue gliding over my clit, nearly made me topple over.

“Braxton,” I breathed, barely holding it together.

I dug my fingers into his hair, holding him against me as he feasted. His moans of appreciation vibrated against my sensitive flesh. He sucked my clit into his mouth, then drew lazy circles around it with the tip of his tongue. My arousal was pooling between my legs, a slickness that he lapped up eagerly.

“You taste so sweet,” he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. “This is my new favorite flavor.”

I could barely stand as Braxton continued his ravishment of my senses. My head fell back against the shower wall, and soon my breaths were coming in sharp gasps. His fingers slid inside me, pumping as his tongue teased my clit. I was spiraling towards the edge, my body tensing with anticipation.

Braxton’s fingers curled just right, finding that magic spot within. A moment later, he added a third finger, stretching me wide as he worked my clit with his tongue. My thighs clenched around his head, imprisoning him against me as a whimper of pleasure escaped my throat. “Yes! Oh, God…”

He continued his relentless assault, his tongue never wavering from its task. His fingers pistoned in and out of me, his thumb circling my clit in perfect rhythm. The pressure built—a coil of tension that threatened to explode. “Come for me, Daria,” he whispered. “Let me feel you come apart on my tongue.”

I broke apart with a cry.

Braxton held me, his arms wrapped around my thighs while he continued to work me with his tongue, drawing out every last tremor of my climax. When the last wave subsided, he pulled back, his eyes dark with satisfaction. “I could feast on you forthe rest of my life and never get enough,” he said, his voice laced with amazement.

He eased my leg down and stood, catching me when my knees buckled. “Damn, baby,” he murmured with a grin. “That good?”

I nodded, breathless.

He helped me steady myself as the water continued to rain down on us and then pulled me into his arms, holding me close as if I were the most precious thing in the world. “It feels so good to know I can please you so well.”

His words struck a chord, stirring up emotions I hadn’t ever thought I would have. No man had cared about my pleasure before, much less expressed such satisfaction in delivering it.

I nuzzled into his chest, my body relaxing with a sense of contentment that was altogether new. But just as I was settling into the moment, the water suddenly turned cold.

“Shit,” he hissed. We scrambled to shut it off, laughing as the temperature plunged. He handed me a towel and grabbed one for himself, rubbing it over his hair before tossing it onto his shoulder.

“We really should’ve gotten in sooner,” I said, wringing water from the ends of my hair.

“Not my fault you were too busy in front of the mirror,” he shot back, toweling off his chest.

“Well, you,” I said, pointing at him, “only got one orgasm out of me in that shower. Thought you promised more.”

He stepped in close, dropping his towel. “Who said I was done?” His hand slid around my waist. “I don’t care if it’s in a shower, a bed, or on this damn floor—so long as you let me keep making you come.”

I laughed—really laughed—and for a moment, I didn’t care about anything else.

He watched me with that look again, the one that made my heart twist. Like he couldn’t believe I was real. Like he wasn’t sure he deserved this.

Before I could move, Braxton swept me off my feet.

“What are you—”

He carried me into the bedroom, bare feet slapping against the floor. At the bed, he yanked the covers down and laid me on the sheets like I was precious. Like I wasn’t a woman who’d burned down every world I’d ever entered.

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