Page 51 of Mine to Worship

Her teeth dig in her lower lip, and her eyes sparkle.

“I would like that.”

Yes, me too. I’ll fight and do whatever is necessary for us to be the family we deserve. But step by step. I would go at snail’s speed if that makes her comfortable.

“Go get changed. We’re going out.”

She perks up, and asks, “A date? Where?”

“A date. To an Italian restaurant and a movie, if you’re not too tired.”

She radiates pure joy before rushing up the stairs. She trips on the last step, and I am about to sprint to her when she turns and puts a hand up.

“Nothing happened,” she assures me before she disappears behind the door, but I don’t relax.

How could I, when she’s carrying the meaning of my world with her? I send Mikaela the okay to proceed, shut my laptop off and go to Ellia. It’s been minutes, but they have been torturous without her in my sight, next to me.

Obsessed doesn’t even begin to describe how consumed I am by her.

Chapter 21

Ellia

While Kian takes an urgent work call, I take a shower and use the remaining time before I have to get ready for our date tonight to draw a picture of me and him in front of the mirror with our hands on my belly. On the floor, cross-legged, I am tracing it when my senses tingle. I hide a knowing smile and put the drawing under my underwear in my dresser. His eyes go from the drawer to my face.

“Hmm, what was that angel?”

“Nothing.”

His thumb traces his bottom lip, suspicion only increasing in those flecks of greens.

“Shall I try to get it out of you?” He pushes himself off the doorframe, prowling to me. The playful tilt of his lips heating up my core.

“You can try.”

“Oh, I will.”

I shed my bathrobe to divert his attention, and his eyes travel up and down my skin. Every inch of my body he touches with his deep gaze aches for more. I bend and pick up my new underwear. His breath curls the baby hair on my nape and his fingers trail up my bare skin.

“I think you want to stay home and order in,” he tells me.

I bat my eyelids over my shoulder but don’t shift my position, savoring his touch, his attention. It’s a heady, addictive feeling that I crave.

“Sorry, but I am expected to have dinner with my husband.”

“Now, this is a predicament.” Amusement and lust battle in his voice, while his index finger dips in the hollow where my spine meets my ass.

I turn into him, naked, with the lingerie dangling from my fingers. He snatches them and gets on his knees.

I lift one leg, then the other and he pulls my thong up. Only one word comes to my mind—worship. He places a soft kiss on my pussy, followed by a long inhale. He stands, kisses one nipple, then the other, before he takes the bra from my hand and clasps it for me.

I love his tender gestures. I sigh dreamily, loving everything about this man and how he is with me–– attentive, loving, carrying. I never want to experience a day I’m not pampered by him.

“I will enjoy undressing you, but first I will dine with my wife. I have slacked at taking her on dates.”

My heart bursts in my chest like confetti. With every moment we spend together, and with every second we share, it’s as if he conquers me from within. I am incapable of stopping him. I am in too much of a happy place to spar with the demons of our past. They will be there tomorrow as well, or when I finally stop this pretense and admit I want him, us, but he has to let me in by telling me everything. We’ll see if we can move on.

We stare at each other as we get dressed, and without talking, we end up matching. I opt for a black minidress, and apply light makeup.

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