Tests on My Heart
He's leaning against the sink when she finds him, one hand running across the length of his freshly shaved jaw.
"Good morning," she murmurs against the cotton of his undershirt, palms pressed to his sides.
He smiles into the mirror. She's wearing the red satin blouse from last night and a flimsy pair of panties. (she has a drawer here now- for tooth brushes, jackets- and lingerie.)
"Morning."
He pulls on her hand- tugging till she's standing before him. "Impatient, are we?" she purrs, perching on the counter. She pulls up his vest, mouth brushing over his firm torso.
"A little." It comes out half growl, half gasp- her lips move upward, tongue flicking out against the skin of his nipples.
"And why is that?" she murmurs, biting his chin gently. She runs her hands over the expanse of his newly bare chest.
He doesn't answer- just lowers his mouth to hers and his fingers find her panties and her panties find the floor.
She holds onto the marble edge of the counter, eyes rolling back in pleasure as he thrusts, parries, makes love like its art. She finds herself smiling when he fucks her because this is what James Wilson does-
-he makes her happy.