Page 163 of Kentrell

Owning me.

He didn’t move for a long time after that.

Neither did I.

We just breathed. Entangled. Soaked in heat and heartbeats.

And when I finally found enough strength to pull the blanket up over both of us, I rested my head back against his chest and whispered the truth I couldn’t say out loud.

Please don’t let this end tomorrow.

I must’ve dozed off right after.

Wrapped in his arms. Full. Satisfied. Safe.

But the next time I opened my eyes, he was gone.

The bed was warm where he’d been. The scent of him still lingered in the sheets. But what pulled me out of sleep fully wasn’t the cold. It was the smell.

Food.

Something savory. Spiced. Sizzling.

I stretched, yawned, my muscles still loose and sore in the best way. I padded out of bed, grabbed the same blanket we’d nearly destroyed last night, wrapped it around me, and made my way down the hallway.

The closer I got to the kitchen, the stronger the smell got—eggs, bacon, something buttery and sweet.

My stomach growled on cue.

When I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I stopped in my tracks.

There he was.

In front of the stove. Back to me.

A pair of black boxer briefs hugging his waist, every inch of his thick thighs and strong back on full display. Shoulders broad, tattoos flexing across his skin as he stirred something in the pan like he wasn’t completely ruining me just byexisting.

He looked good enough to eat.

I dropped the blanket, leaving it on the barstool, and walked over—bare, bold, and still a little drowsy.

Slid up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my chest into his back. My hand slipped down slow, easing into his briefs.

“Now why doyouget to cover up…” I squeezed his dick, making him grunt. “And I don’t?”

He chuckled, deep and low, the sound vibrating under my palms. Sexy as hell.

Glancing over his shoulder, he smirked. “’Cause I can’t risk grease poppin’ onto my dick.”

We both cracked up as I let go and backed up toward the island, laughing as I sat down and crossed my legs.

“Fair enough,” I giggled.

A moment later, he slid a plate in front of me—eggs, crispy bacon, golden-brown pancakes, and something cheesy that made my mouth water instantly.

“Oooh!” I rubbed my stomach dramatically. “I’m famished.”

“I know.”

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