“Morning,” she calls. “Cinnamon rolls are fresh, coffee is violent, and if you complain about either, Kauss will listen with intimidating patience.”
One worker glances at me. “I love the coffee.”
“Wise,” I say.
Laughter fills the room.
I take plates from the shelf and begin serving beside her. Our shoulders brush. Her hand finds mine briefly beneath the counter, squeezing once before she moves away to refill mugs. Outside, Halo keeps waking. Inside, Sweet Tooth glows with oven heat, sugar, steam, noise, and the fragile ordinary miracle of people feeding each other because the world is hard and breakfast should not be.
Evie looks back at me from the register, eyes warm with promise and mischief.
I smile. She returns it, and something unspoken passes between us. Soon, I am carrying her upstairs to her--to our--apartment.
I tug her blouse up over her head, freeing her magnificent breasts. My eyes drink in the sight of her, cock throbbing like mad as it grows stiff and ready.
I lower my head and draw one nipple into my mouth, letting my tongue circle it slowly. She gasps, arching into me, and I steady her with one hand beneath her back, pulling her tighter to my chest. I’m careful with the claws, always careful, even when my cock is so hard it aches.
I shift my weight and press her into the mattress with my hips, letting her feel how thick and ready I am. She groans, her nails scraping my shoulders.
“Take it slow?” she whispers.
I nod, kissing down the valley of her breasts. I trail lower, licking down her belly, pausing at each faint scar—marking them with reverence, with worship. I kneel at the end of the bed and pull her shorts off with a single, fluid tug.
And fuck.
Her scent hits me like a thunderclap. Rich, salty, sweet.
I part her thighs and stare. Her pussy is glistening in the moonlight, lips plush and flushed, clit peeking, slick and throbbing. I growl low in my throat and lean forward to taste her.
She jerks—hips jolting—and moans so loud the bed vibrates. My tongue is wide and strong, ridged slightly at the center. I flatten it against her folds and drag up, slow, deliberate. Then again, flicking faster over her clit, then dipping down to thrust inside her. Her thighs close around my head but I don’t stop.
"Gods, Kauss, don't stop..."
Her moans go ragged. I feel her tremble under me, her hands gripping the sheets. She bucks once, twice, then cries out as she comes—soaking my face, panting, gasping.
I pull back and lick my lips. “You taste like moonlight and courage,” I whisper.
She pulls at me, needy now. “I want you inside me.”
I nod and climb back over her. She watches with wide, hungry eyes as I free myself—my cock hard, flushed, ridged and veined, glowing faintly at the tip where the head leaks precum. She reaches down, touches it. I hiss through my teeth.
She guides me to her entrance. I press in slow.
She gasps, biting her lip, arching her back. My cock stretches her open inch by inch, wet heat enveloping me in unbearablepleasure. I go still once I'm fully inside—buried to the hilt—feeling her walls pulse around me.
“You okay?” I whisper, stroking her cheek.
She nods, breathless. “So full... gods, you're so deep.”
I kiss her again—then move.
My rhythm starts slow, steady. I pull back, then thrust, letting her feel every ridge, every stroke. Her hands claw at my back, her legs locking around my hips. She matches my thrusts, rocking into me, gasping my name.
"Harder," she begs.
I growl and obey.
I pound into her now, hips slapping against thighs, bed groaning beneath us. Her cries grow louder, her nails deeper. Her second orgasm hits fast—her pussy spasming around my cock as I keep thrusting, keep driving into her until I feel myself cresting.
