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Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “I do have utensils, you know.”
“Then get one.” I raised my eyebrow in a dare. “Ivy Lynch doesn’t run scared, does she?”
The regal tilt to her chin had my muscles tense in anticipation. “At some point in time, your red challenge flag will lose its effectiveness.”
“Is that day today?” I asked quietly.
She was nervous. If her pulse was anything like mine, then her blood was racing wildly through her veins.
There was something incredible about watching her mind work, like I could peel back the inner workings of her mind and see neatly stacked gears in a shiny, gleaming gold. This woman was fiercely intelligent, deliberate and guarded and she’d never do anything unless she’d looked five steps ahead to know the possible outcomes.
My throat was dry with a rotating mental image of what those outcomes could be—and all of them ended with my tongue in her mouth and my hands on her body. Then she stepped forward, and my heart stopped as she wrapped her delicate fingers around my wrist.
How was it possible to continue breathing when your heart wasn’t pumping blood anymore? Somehow I stayed standing, stayed conscious while she slid that pink tongue past her lips and sucked the tip of my finger into the wet heat of her mouth.
Her eyes locked on mine, her pupils were blown wide and her cheeks even brighter than before.
Then her tongue slid against the pad of my finger, and she hummed. I felt the vibration of it straight down to my raging hard-on.
I snagged her wrist and tugged, pulling my finger from her mouth before sliding my hands up into her hair and crowding her body against the island as I sealed my mouth over hers with a relieved groan.
Her hands were tight in my shirt the moment our mouths touched, like she’d rip the fabric to shreds if I dared to back away.
I’d let her.
I’d let her do so many things.
My hands tightened in her hair while I tilted my head, licking deeper into her mouth. Ivy whimpered, and God, I wanted to live on that sound for the rest of my fucking life.
It was sharp and fierce, instant heat that swallowed every inch of my skin, molding our bodies together.
My hips rocked restlessly, and the softness of her stomach was the perfect cradle for the friction I sought. Ivy released her hold on my shirt, sliding her hands over my chest and behind my neck, anchoring me to her when I broke off to suck in a deep breath.
“Tell me what you want, duchess,” I begged, a rasping, desperate edge to my voice that I couldn’t hide.
Her eyes held mine, and that clever, clever hand of hers tracked deliberately down my chest and stomach until she reached the buckle on my belt.
“I’m sick of pretending I don’t want you,” she said, her eyes clear and her cheeks flushed and her lips pink from the hard kisses. “So I think I’d like to stop now.”
The bottom curve of that lip was impossible to ignore, so I dragged the pad of my thumb over it, back and forth and back and forth. Then I looked over at the mess on the kitchen counter and slid the tip of my pinky finger into the chocolate, brushing it over the spot my thumb had just memorized.
Her eyes flared when I drew a thin line of that sweet, rich chocolate over her mouth. I dipped down and sucked her bottom lip into my mouth. She let out a ragged exhale, her hand scrambling at my belt. My hands slid down the lithe line of her back, curving around her waist to the gentle curve of her hips and around her backside, where I tugged her tight against me while I took her mouth in another savage kiss.
She pulled at the hem of my shirt, sliding her hands over my stomach while our tongues dueled and danced and sucked. My teeth scraped her lips, and she returned the favor, a biting kiss that tugged goose bumps along my arms while I tried to find the zipper on the back of her dress.
Where the hell was the zipper?
I growled in frustration, and she laughed into my mouth. “There’s no zipper,” she said against my mouth. “It just slides on.”
“We’re not doing this here,” I said between breathless kisses. I slid my hands underneath the skirt of her dress, pushing it up over her waist and boosting her up so she could slide her legs around my waist while I carried her to the bedroom.
“Wait.”
I froze, my chest heaving and my hands on her ass and my heart breaking if she was about to stop this. It might kill me, but I would.
“What about the cat?” she asked, eyes wide.
I blinked.
