Page 140 of Meant for Mayhem

He pressed me forward until my hands braced on the counter. The mirror reflected everything—his larger frame behind me, the flush already high on my cheeks, his arm banded across my stomach to keep me close.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me, wife.”

Even if he hadn’t said it, I couldn’t look away, not when he watched me like he wanted to remember this moment forever.

He entered me in one slow, deep thrust that stole the air from both of us. I bit the inside of my cheeks, trying to contain the moan that wanted to slip free.

Mikko’s hand slid over my mouth, holding my head back against his chest. “I should have known you couldn’t be quiet, hm?”

I nipped at the center of his palm in answer, his hips stuttering momentarily before his thrusts came harder. He set a steady, rolling pace that drove deeper with every stroke, the hand across my stomach holding me exactly where he wanted me so he could hit the exact right spot to make me unravel. The mirror showed every shift of muscle in his shoulders, the tight clench of his jaw, the way my own expression kept slipping between need and something softer. I pushed back to meet him, matching the rhythm until the quiet of the bathroom filled with the sound of skin on skin and the soft, muffled noises I couldn’t quite hold back against his palm.

His free hand slid lower, fingers finding my clit and circling with such precision, my knees threatened to give out. The dual sensation—deep, relentless thrusts and the precise pressure of his hand—pulled a broken sound from my throat. His eyes stayed locked on mine in the mirror, watching every flicker of pleasure cross my face like it was the only thing that mattered.

“That’s it,” he murmured against my ear. “Let go for me.”

My climax hit harder than I expected, rolling through me in long, shuddering waves. I bit down on his palm again as it crested, and that was enough to tip him over with me. His hips snapped forward then stilled as he followed, forehead dropping to my shoulder with a low, rough groan that vibrated against my skin.

We stayed like that for a long moment, breathing hard, his palm still loosely covering my mouth until I turned my head and kissed the center of it.

He eased out of me carefully, turned me in his arms, and kissed me again, slower this time.

“I love you, Shannon.”

My thumb trailed across his jaw, memorizing this moment. “I love you, too.”

“Shower,” he murmured against my lips. “Then we should get ready for the party before she wakes up.”

I turned on the water, then slowly removed the last of my clothes and looked over my shoulder. “Coming, husband?”

Mikko stood there, halfway to hard again, a hand brushing over his mouth, then followed me into the steam.

32

The sun was already down by the time we drove through town later that afternoon, headed toward Copper Ridge. Ty’s ranch was nestled in the Gore Range, same as Lori’s, but on the opposite side of town. A long driveway led to a small farmhouse first, then a red barn, then Ty’s property at the back. Green-and-red wreaths hung from the fence posts, topped with snow, making everything look like a winter wonderland.

“Look, Leena! Do you see the llama?” Shannon pointed at the animal standing along the fence line.

“Does he only have one eye?” I asked, glancing at my wife.

Shannon bit back a grin. “I mean, his name is Uno for a reason. And might be the least creative name Ty and Junie have come up with for this little misfit farm. Uno has nothing on Piggie Smalls and Cluck Norris.”

I smiled at the name choices, then parked next to several other cars crowding the long driveway. Shannon climbed out and opened Leena’s door to unbuckle her, breath fogging in the cold air.

She’d changed before we left, trading her usual tees for a black cardigan with a white skeleton rib cage stretched across the front with a tiny red heart in shimmering thread over her chest. I wasn’t sure why this classified as Christmas attire, but Shannon had seemed pleased with herself when she put it on, so who was I to question it?

My daughter wore a red dress with fur on the hem and sleeves. We had a momentary outfit malfunction trying to balance the long sleeve with Leena’s temporary cast, but Shannon had snipped the fabric above her elbow, making it so she was both comfortable and adorable.

Leena reached for me so I could carry her inside, and I planted a kiss on her cheek. “Ready?”

Shannon put her hand in mine, lacing our fingers together. “Last chance to back out. Once the women hear this is real now, they’re going to be insufferable.”

I lifted her hand, kissing her knuckles. “I can take it.”

We walked up the driveway, snow crunching under our boots, the music getting louder the closer we got to the house. But before we made it to the porch, Shannon pulled me to a stop and hid behind a truck.

“What’s going on?” I whispered.

Shannon held her finger up to shush me, peeking around the tailgate. “No idea, but that doesn’t look like your typical Mason proposed and Tate rejected him, does it?”