Page 203 of Renard's Deliverance

She stepped out of the bedroom, dressed in a chef’s apron.

And nothing else.

His mouth dropped open. “What are you doing, Gem?”

“Well, I thought I would use what I’ve learned from our cooking lessons to make you dinner.”

He’d been giving her regular cooking lessons. And she had actually come a long way.

“You cooked me dinner naked?” he barked. She could have burned her bare skin like that!

“Nope. I cooked you while fully dressed, then I stripped to get ready for when you came home.” She took hold of his hand and led him to the small dining table. “Sit.”

He sat, noticing that the table was set for one.

“Aren’t you eating?” he asked, not liking that. He needed to keep on top of her eating habits, or she tended to skip meals.

“Oh, I’m going to eat,” she purred, setting down his plate of food before getting onto her knees next to him. “I want to eat you.”

Ahh. He got it now. He hadn’t let her suck him off after that scene at the club, but he knew she wouldn’t wait much longer. But what she didn’t understand is that she didn’t get to set the narrative.

She wasn’t in charge.

“Did you eat some food?” He glanced over the spaghetti bolognaise and garlic bread.

Simple, but if done well, it tasted delicious.

“No.”

“No,” he growled. “Why not?”

“Too nervous. Please let me suck on you while you eat.”

“No.” He lifted her into his lap, ignoring her pout. “You’re going to eat with me and then if you’re a good girl, I might let you suck on me.”

“Really? Until you come?”

“We’ll see.”

“Please. Pretty please,” she begged.

“Eat.”

He fed her and himself.

“Is it good?” she asked once he was finished.

“Baby, this is fantastic. You did such a good job. I’m so proud of you.” He kissed her lightly. Then he deepened the kiss.

“Good enough for you to let me make you come?” she asked eagerly.

He stood with her in his arms and carried her to the sofa. Then he sat with her on his lap, facing him. He undid the apron, pulling it off her. Then he cupped the side of her face. “When you’re sucking on me, who do you see?”

“Just you. Only you.”

“Do you think of him? Do you feel pressured? Do you zone out?”

“There’s no chance of zoning out when you keep stopping me to check in. I’d rather you just take control.”

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