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“I don’t think I can eat another bite.” Creed’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I tear my attention back to his plate.
“It’s a good thing, considering there’s nothing left.”
“You’re a damn good cook, Esme,” he replies, his voice full of awe and sincerity. There’s something else within, too. Perhaps a touch of frustration over the fact I’ll never be able to pursue this passion. “But don’t worry.” He flashes me a sinful smile. “I still saved some room for dessert.”
My eyes widen and I pull back, straightening. “Crap. I completely forgot to make something for dessert.” I toss my napkin on the table and push back to stand. “I think I saw some fresh berries in the refrigerator. I can probably whip up a quick custard or something.”
I’m about to head toward the kitchen when Creed shoots to his feet, wraps his fingers around my wrist, and yanks my body against his. I inhale a sharp breath, the abrupt motion catching me off guard.
“While that sounds incredible…” He dips his head into the crook of my neck, tone becoming carnal and sensual. “I had something different in mind for dessert.”
When his unshaven jawline scratches my skin, I whimper, my core clenching, lust spiraling through me.
Since we started this arrangement, an intense sexual tension has always existed between us.
Right now, it’s even more potent. More powerful.
More combustible.
“What would that be?” I ask coyly, pulse increasing as he trails a hand down the contours of my frame, lifting my blouse and brushing his fingers along my hipbone.
“You.” He inches closer, my mouth watering at the promise of his lips on mine.
While I’ve stolen the occasional kiss throughout the evening, I’m desperate for more of him. For him to consume every part of me in a way only he can.
In a way I fear only he will ever be able to.
When he touches his mouth to mine, a moan tumbles from me. He tastes of sage, mint, and something else I’ve never been able to place. A nectar I’ve only found in this man’s kisses.
A flavor I will forever associate with Creed Lawson.
“You’re sweeter than any dessert I’ve ever had,” he murmurs against my lips. “More delicate. More refined.”
He moves along my jaw, peppering kisses to my neck, tongue tracing delicious circles.
“An indulgence I shouldn’t partake in, but I just can’t bloody resist the temptation.”
When he nibbles at my skin, I gasp, raw hunger consuming me for more of his words. More of his touch. More of anything he’ll give me.
“Then don’t resist.” I grab his cheeks, forcing his gaze to mine. “Have me, Creed.”
He smirks. “Gladly.”
Before I can brace myself, he swoops me into his arms as if I weigh nothing.
“Creed!” I shriek, a lightness filling me. “What are you doing?”
“Having my dessert.” With a sinful waggle of his brows, he stalks up the stairs and into the guest room, his steps quick, a man on a mission.
Once inside, he kicks the door closed, then lowers my feet onto the floor, the mood shifting from playful and lively to something deeper and more intense, Creed’s gaze awash with a look of awe and something else.
Something I don’t want to articulate for fear of what it’ll mean for us.
My heart thrashes in my chest as he brings his hand to my face, slowly pushing a few tendrils of hair behind my ear. Flames from the dozen or so candles flicker, casting shadows on his distinguished face. Everything about this moment, from the ambience to the sensual background music to the way he peers at me, screams romance.
Devotion.
Love.
