Waking up to a view this beautiful everyday is so rewarding. I stood outside on the balcony of Shane's room, taking in the captivating sights of California before me to breathe in its fresh morning air.
I close my eyes and even though it's miles away, I could practically smell the salt from the Pacific Ocean, tugging at my nose.
I open my heavy eyelids and stretch my tired muscles as I make my way back inside, to the bathroom. I walk past Shane, shirtless and still asleep, his arm hung over to my side of the bed as if I'm still there.
I start my daily routine, pinning my hair up, washing my face and everything else I need in order to start my day. When I bring my face back up from rinsing the soapy froth away, I squint, seeing that Shane is stretching as he wakes up in bed. I smile and look for the nearest towel to pat my face dry.
Then I unpin my hair and grab my toothbrush. Shane hops out, his hands in the air, doing one final stretch at the head of the bed.
He comes into the bathroom, his eyes still shut, trying to adjust to the bright morning light peeking in. He's quiet but gives me a sleepy smile, and while I'm applying my face cream, Shane hovers over my backside to greet me by pecking my right cheek one time, his front pressed against my back.
We're still exchanging gazes as we start brushing our teeth, together, in silence, smiling and smirking at each other through the bathroom mirror.
With the exception of the running faucet and birds chirping outside, we're still quiet, taking turns spitting, brushing, and spitting again. Rinsing and gargling. I spit the mouthwash out first, and then he does the same. I lick my lips and he bites his, eyeing me the whole time with an intense, stoic gaze.
Shane grins at me, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards and he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me close. I can feel him, his morning wood pressed against my lower back.
The only thing standing between us are his briefs and my thin black silk cami and matching panties, which he strokes along the stitching with his free hand. He breathes his warm breath against my neck and I can't help but shudder at his touch and the way he looks away from the mirror to stare down at my budding nipples.
His hands start to roam now and my breath hitches, his low, sleepy, sexy eyes look back into the mirror so we can watch as he slowly and expertly trails his fingers down my arm, sending shivers through my body. Then he moves to my stomach, my back, tracing the curve of my arching spine just below the edge of my cami.
He continues this slow and torturous exploration, his hands finding their way to my hips and he grips them tight, pulling me closer. I'm saturating now, trying my best to keep standing as if his careful hands aren't making me unravel inside.
He can see that I want to moan, but this silence between us, this quiet, shared experience is sexy as hell and I want to hold onto it, for as long as I can. But the silent treatment doesn't last. It can't—not when he's teasing me like this.
"Shane." I whisper, though it comes out much softer than I intended.
"Shhh," he murmurs, his voice deep. He pulls my saturated panties down with a slow, deliberate movement. They're around my feet now and I step out of them and he uses his bare foot to lightly kick them to the side. He crouches down and kisses both sides of my hind legs, slowly working his way up.
His soft, yet intense kisses, each one, sends waves of pleasure down my back and my walls ache for him. I'm gripping the counter so hard that my knuckles are going white, trying my damndest to stay quiet.
But a moan escapes me anyway and when it does, Shane slaps my ass hard, the stinging pleasure serving as a reminder to keep quiet. I yelp and with his lips, he soothes the pain away for me.
He stands up, looking into the mirror again, at me, my breasts, and he pulls down my cami by the straps, I step out of that too. Then he raises my right leg, resting it on the counter and my pussy is now vulnerably exposed.
