Page 12 of Surrender Your Heart
“So…” she whispered, voice husky and laced with a little tease, “you gonna give me the usual princess treatment or what?”
I smirked, brushing her damp curly hair off her forehead. “Princess treatment, huh?”
“Mhmm,” Honey said with a lazy smile, still catching her breath. “Bubble bath. Oil down. Tucked in like royalty.”
I chuckled under my breath, but the truth hit me mid-laugh and caught in my chest. For a second, I didn’t say anything. Just stared at her, body still wrapped around mine, her hand resting on my forearm. I wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. “Nah,” I said finally, voice a little lower than before. “Not tonight.”
Her smile faltered, just slightly. “Oh?”
I pulled her even closer, burying my face in the crook of her neck, my voice thick with something I didn’t name. “I just wanna fall asleep in it… and hold you.”
She went quiet. I felt her heart beating steadily under my palm. Felt her thighs tighten around mine. And then sheexhaled, soft and slow, pressing her lips against my forehead. “Okay,” she whispered. No smart-ass comment. No slick reply. Just okay.
I removed the vibrating plug and placed it on the dresser, then kissed the slope of her shoulder. That pussy still gripped me like she didn’t want me to leave, and I didn’t plan on it.
Honey
Iw o k eu pto the soft vibration of my phone dancing across the nightstand, eyes still heavy, thighs still trembling from the night before. My body was humming, every nerve ending sore in the best way, my pussy and ass pulsing like it had been claimed, branded. Broken in and worshiped at the same damn time.
I blinked through the early sunlight pouring in from the huge villa windows, groaned low, then reached over and grabbed my phone.Bestie Calling…
I smiled and answered, voice thick and scratchy. “What?”
Tyrae’s voice damn near exploded through the speaker. “Damn bitch! Still in bed? Is he alive? Are YOU alive?!”
I laughed. “Barely.”
“Oh, he really put that Legendary dick on you, huh? You sound like you seen God.”
I rolled over, clutching the covers, my legs still open. “I’m weak as hell. Can’t feel my legs. I think I levitated.”
“I hate you,” she said with a cackle. “What’s the plan today? More nasty shit or y’all actually gon’ see the island?”
“I honestly don’t know all of the details yet. Let me call you back, I gotta pee and I smell food.”
“Okayyy, make sure it’s food and not his dick on a pl—”
I hung up mid-sentence and tossed the phone to the side, grinning. The smell of something savory and damn near sinful drifted through the air: eggs, cinnamon, butter, something sweet. I slipped out of bed, toes curling against the cool marble floor, and grabbed my silk robe, tying it loosely around me.
Walking barefoot through the villa felt surreal again, like I’d slipped into some kind of ultra-luxe dream I didn’t want to wake up from. My body still throbbed with the echo of Legend’s hands, his tongue, his everything. I turned the corner into the open kitchen and stopped.
My pussy thumped. Legend was standing there… naked. Nothing but skin, tattoos, and a hard, carved-from-marble back. Shoulders broad. Calves defined. His dick banging heavy and unapologetic. A kitchen towel slung over one shoulder as he flipped golden brown French toast on a hot skillet.
He didn’t look over his shoulder. Just said low and steady, “Take the shit off, sweetheart.”
My breath caught.Dejavu.The way he demanded it…calm, quiet, and confident…like he knew the shit would make me melt. I untied the robe and let it fall. He finally turned. Hiseyes dragged over me slowly. Possessive. Hungry. He licked his bottom lip and nodded once.
“Morning,” I whispered, folding my arms, suddenly shy even though he’d had me on all fours last night.
“Morning, baby,” he said, voice deep as ever. “Ass on that stool. Breakfast is almost done.”
I sat, skin bare against the cool leather, and watched him move effortlessly, that dick swinging between thick thighs. He plated the food and set it in front of me—French toast, cheesy eggs, bacon, fruit, and mimosas already poured. We ate for a moment in silence. The tension between us was soft but still electric.
“Okay, so now I really wanna know. Who taught you to cook like this?” I finally asked, tearing into the toast.
He smirked, sipping his mimosa. “My grandmother. Said no woman should ever feed me better than I feed myself.”
“Mmm. I like her.”
