Page 47 of Renascence
“Good morning. What have you done with my clothes?”
“They’re—” He glances in my direction, then does a double take. “Fuck.”
His eyes roam over my body, the hunger I see in them definitely not for pancakes. Turning off the burners, he strides toward me with purpose, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me against him.
“You look good in my clothes, darlin’.”
His lips possess mine the way I’m becoming accustomed to, leaving no doubt as to who’s in charge. His tongue slips between my parted lips, free hand reaching under the shirt. He groans when his fingers connect with my underwear.
“Where the fuck did you get this?” he growls in irritation.
“Um….” I find a spot on his chest and focus on it. “I brought it with me last night.”
Falling to his knees, he pulls it down my legs. I step out of it, watching him tuck the garment into his pocket.
“Sit. Breakfast is almost ready,” he says, as if he didn’t just steal my panties.
I take a chair, licking my lips as I watch him walk back to the stove. His muscles ripple and flex, reminding me of every deliriously awesome second of last night. I didn’t even know my body was capable of so many orgasms in such a short period of time. I’ve never achieved more than two in my solo sessions. Damn it.
I take in the tattoo running down his right arm, a snake coiled around the length, the tail wrapped around his wrist. Its head rests on his upper arm, fangs bared, the word “Doom” above it. My muscles clench when he turns to face me and I see the outline of his dick snaking down his thigh. I swallow hard, my eyes glued to his crotch as he approaches with a stack of pancakes. Today it’s joined by eggs, bacon, and toast.
“Eat up, babe.”
I snap out of my haze, turning my attention to breakfast. This time I don’t argue. I’mstarving. I guess he was right about needing a full stomach to handle a night with him. He pours me a glass of juice, dropping down in a chair next to me.
“You’re not eating?”
“I’ve been up for a while, so I already had breakfast. I’m looking to eat something else.”
“What?” I turn to him with a mouthful of food.
His eyes find mine, holding my stare as he licks his lips.
“You.”
I swallow. Hard. I hadn’t even finished chewing.
“M-me?” I stutter through a cough.
“I’m dying for another taste, darlin’.” His hand glides up my leg, my wanton thighs parting to give him access to what he seeks. I close my eyes, moaning as his finger slides between my lips. When he gets to my entrance, I flinch.
“Sore?” he asks, stroking my inner thigh.
“A little.”
“I figured. My tongue will just have to suffice for now.”
A shiver runs down my spine.
He leans in, nipping my earlobe before whispering, “But not until you eat every last bite.”
And I do. I clean my plate like a good girl, practically bouncing in my seat as he does the dishes, waiting for my treat. When he begins to stalk back to me, I jump to my feet, ready to sprint to the bedroom. However, he grabs my waist, lifting me and planting my ass on the table.
“Wait… what—?”
He pushes my thighs apart, licking his lips as he lowers his head.
“Time for my kind of breakfast.”
