Page 44 of Mine to Worship

“I have to eat, too.” He pushes me down and lifts my feet on the edges of the counter.

My eyes bulge out when I realize where he’s going with this. He squirts the syrup and chocolate trails down my lower belly.

“Hold your legs stretched wide, like this. We don’t want to make a mess, do we?”

I am sensation floating as I nod and my teeth dig into my lower lip. I cry out when the cold syrup hits my sensitive and overheated skin. Kian’s head lowers. When his mouth, tongue and fingers touch me, the noises escaping my lips don’t sound quite human. I’m not made of bones and muscles but of liquid, like the one he eats diligently from my pussy. I ride the highest wave knowing the wave will crash on me and I will scatter in the sea of pleasure.

My head falls back, and I am glad my elbows support my weight. His palm over my stomach keeps me in place as I writhe under his touch. He alternates sucking on my clit and licking my slit, while his fingers drag every bit of pleasure out of my body.

I fall back, losing all control over my muscles. He continues with the mind-blowing sucking and licking the chocolate syrup from my thighs and pussy. My legs tremble and I spasm, coming with his name on my lips. My body gives up, and I lie flat on the counter, spent but content. With him, I discover every time new pleasure lands, new heights, new intensity.

My eyes find his face, a satisfied grin curling up his mouth, a hint of chocolate on his lips as my body rocks in the aftermath of pleasure.

“Hmm, I could get used to this breakfast,” he says, licking the last bit of chocolate from his mouth.

“Me, too.”

He helps me up and holds me while strength returns to my limbs.

“You didn’t eat.”

“Oh, but I did.” His eyes gleam with remnants of lust.

“I mean food. I’ll make you something.”

I push him down on a stool and prepare an omelet with bacon, cheese, and paprika, his eyes never wavering from me while I cook.

A wave of nausea hits me, and I fight it until I plate his food. I rush to the closest bathroom and empty the contents of my stomach. Once again, Kian is behind me, holding my hair back.

“I’m okay. It’s just… the eggs smell…”

He wets a towel and cleans my mouth.

“What can I do?”

“Stay here with me.” My voice cracks with vulnerability.

He scoops me in his arms. “Always.”

I cover my nose and mouth when we pass the kitchen, and he carries me outside. The fresh smell of pines and moose soothes my stomach. I lay my head on his shoulder, his fingers brush my arm and I feel better.

“I hate that,” he says, his body tensed up like a wired cord.

“It will pass.”

“I can’t even help you.” Frustration oozes out of him, and he curls his hand.

“It’s okay.” I place my hand on his fisted one.

“No, it’s not and I can’t do anything about it and it’s driving me crazy.”

I caress his set jaw and I lift my head to kiss it.

“You’re helping, it’s better when you’re around,” I admit, and a bit of relief passes over his face.

Chapter 18

Kian

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