Page 62 of Playing with Fire

“Food first,” she whispered.

“I know.” I smiled, getting the impression she was reminding herself as much as she was me. “I just wanted to dance with you.”

“Yeah?” She pressed back against me and rotated her hips, rubbing against my cock.

“Trying to tease me?”

“Maybe.” She smiled. The oven beeped and she lifted her head back up. “Need to get the lasagna in the oven.”

I looked over her shoulder at the casserole dish sitting on top of the oven before stepping back and letting her put it inside.

She set the timer and then spun toward me. “That has to bake for about thirty-five minutes, and then I’ll need to uncover it.”

I took a minute to admire her sundress. It held her breasts with only two thin straps and tied in between before flaring out midway down her stomach. Yellow, with red cherries, it even matched her personality.

“So what you’re saying is I can have my dessert first?”

She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth as pink dusted her cheeks.

“Because all I’ve thought about all day is getting my mouth on you. Feeling you grip my hair as you come on my tongue.” I took a step toward her and gripped her waist, bringing her hard against my chest. “You want that, sweetheart?”

“Yes, please,” she murmured.

I lifted her and placed her on the granite countertop of the island. “Did you do what I said?”

Her eyes flared as she nodded.

Fuck. “Show me.” The words came out husky as I thought about her bare pussy ready for me.

She pulled the hem of her dress up slowly, until it was bunched around her waist, and my fingers dug into her thighs at the sight.

“So fucking perfect.” I pushed her legs further apart. “Lay back.”

She lowered herself to the counter, and I placed a kiss on the inside of one thigh before doing the same to the other one, hoping the slight scruff on my face would leave its mark.

“Logan.” I gripped her hips as they lifted slightly off the counter, keeping her anchored.

“Patience.” I trailed my tongue up her leg, stopping so close to where I knew she needed me. “I want to take my time.” I repeated the same motion on the other side.

She threaded her fingers into my hair. “Please, don’t tease me.”

I smiled up at her from between her thighs and licked up her slit. She arched her back, and her fingers tightened in my hair as I explored her with my tongue.

“You like that?”

A breathy moan escaped her. “Yes.”

“Good.” I covered her clit with my mouth, sucking and flicking back and forth until her moans were echoing around us. I pushed two fingers inside of her and curled them, seeking that spot that I knew would send her flying.

Her grip on my hair tightened. “Oh my God. Right there.”

I sucked hard on her clit and spasms racked her body as she screamed out in ecstasy. But I wasn’t done, continuing my assault and letting her ride out every wave of her orgasm until she went limp. I placed gentle kisses along her belly and over her hip before helping her sit up and bringing her into my chest.

Holding her, breathing her in, was everything. I could spend forever like this. Dancing in the kitchen and then pleasing her. Even watching her move around my kitchen as she finished making salads to go with the lasagna—it was like she belonged here, had always been here.

I swallowed, my chest suddenly feeling tight.

She looked up, a dusting of pink breaking out across her cheeks. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

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