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I twirled his hair around my finger. “Not as creepy as me admitting that I went on the pill, hoping you’d have your wicked way with me.”
He chuckled, making his cock twitch deep inside. “My wicked way, huh?”
Pressing my breasts against his naked, sand-sticky chest, I whispered in his ear, “I have a lot of fantasies where you’re concerned, Aslan. But my favourite is...” My cheeks heated as I gathered up courage to tell him what I pictured late at night.
“Go on.” He nipped my collarbone. “You can’t stop now.”
“I imagine I’m doing the dishes.”
He burst out laughing, jostling me on his lap. “You have some strange fetishes, canim.”
“You didn’t let me finish.” I chuckled. “You always do the dishes. I blame this fantasy on watching you doing chores even when you were sixteen. It’s always bugged me that you did so much and never let me help you.”
“I could barely breathe having you near. I needed as many excuses as I could to put some distance between us.”
“Well, that was pointless.” I grinned, squeezing my internal muscles, making him flinch with surprise. “There’s no distance between us now.”
“Fuck...do that again.”
I clenched.
He groaned.
I whispered, “Wanting to help you morphed into a different kind of help as I grew older.”
His heart thundered against mine as he licked his lips. “You have me sufficiently intrigued.” He smirked. “Do I fuck you while you’re vacuuming? How about when you’re begrudgingly hanging out the washing? I could use a couple of pegs on your nipples—” He froze as my entire body involuntarily clenched around his again.
Cocking his head, a sly, sexy look glowed in his gaze. “You’d like that? You’d like me to use toys on you?”
My skin prickled with heat. “I-I wouldn’t be opposed.”
“Fuck, Neri.” His burning eyes dropped to my mouth. “Just how hot do you run, my little nymph? Perhaps you’re not named after a sea-sprite but a siren.”
“If you’d let me finish telling you about the dishes...you’d find out.”
His smile was brighter than the moon and aurora lights combined. “Sorry. I’ll stop interrupting. Please, put me out of my misery and tell me how a chore like doing the dishes can turn into a full-blown fetish.”
Pressing a fleeting kiss to his mouth, I loved how effortless it was between us. So grateful that our togetherness hadn’t changed, now that we’d slept together. Our connection had only strengthened, inked in flesh as well as spirit.
“Well...you finally let me help. You’re giving me orders on how best to get them clean and...I don’t do it right. You get angry with me. Tell me I need a lesson. You move behind me and...punish me.”
He groaned, his cock swelling inside me. “Go on.”
“You push up my skirt, shove aside my knickers, and take me hard. Soapy bubbles fly from the sink as you ride me. Plates smash as you make me come. And we crash to the floor once you’ve filled me, unable to stand from the intensity.”
He didn’t say anything for the longest moment. Self-consciousness filled me, and I leaned back, needing to see his face.
What I saw made my heart crack with overwhelming affection.
He looked at me as if I was the most precious thing he’d ever touched. The most wonderous. Even more wonderous than the pink and green light above us and all the stars in the sky. “Next time your parents are away for the night, you’re doing the dishes.” He kissed me with a sharp nip. “And then I’m going to fuck you as hard as you want against the kitchen sink.”
I shivered. “Promise?”
Seriousness filled his deep dark eyes. “I promise I’ll bring all your desires to life...but, I just need to know one thing. Answer me honestly, Neri. And you have my word, I won’t ask again. I’ll trust you to tell me if you ever need my help.”
The air thickened around us. I held his stare. “What do you need to know?”
“Are you okay?” He brushed aside my salt-tangled hair, caressing my cheek with his knuckles. “Was this okay? That bastard is dealt with, and I hope to God he’s dead, but I can’t stop the surges of rage, wanting to find him and hurt him all over again. I want to tear him apart for what he did to you. I want to tear myself apart for not being there for you. I know it’s going to take time for me to get over what happened, which makes me hate myself because how can I admit that when it was you who—”
