His eyes were dark when he pulled back—thin rings of jade green against pitch black.
His mouth was kiss-swollen, more inviting than ever and he was still hazy when she tugged open his jeans and slid his boxers down.
When her hand wrapped around his cock stroking firmly—he stuttered out a gasp—the edge of the counter biting into his spine.
She dropped her gaze and stroked him harder, "God, Edward. You're so fucking perfect."
He laughed a husky sound that went straight to her aching center. "Sure. Have you seen a mirror lately? You're perfect," he murmured.