Page 43 of Mine to Worship

He muffles a smile, extending his hand, and I take it. He pulls me up and I land with my hands on his chest. His tongue seeks entrance into my mouth. I open my lips, granting him access. Butterflies set free from the cage of my stomach, and I go on tiptoes, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“I love waking up like this,” I confess.

“Me, too.”

My battered heart shows signs of recovery. Of course, it is only to him that it reacts to. But I don’t care, I just want more of this—of us.

In the kitchen, I place the flour on the table and an idea lights up in my brain that I barely contain my smile. I put some in my palm and blow the flour into his face. He blinks at me while I laugh so hard, I hold my stomach.

“You started it, angel.” His voice takes a playful note that strikes all the cords to my heart. He throws at me some flour and pandemonium ensues. Flour shoots in every direction. I squeal and duck, enjoying the playfulness enveloping us. We are on each side of the island, switching from left to right when we call a truce. We get back to preparing the pancakes, faces covered in white.

When he flips the last one, he shuts off the stove, sending a mischievous grin my way. Giggles bubble out of me as we circle the island for round two. I feel light weighted with the happiness creating a halo around us. Hot on my heels, he catches me swiftly. I totally let myself be caught. His hands grab my ass as he lifts me and places me on the island.

“If you don’t stop playing, I can’t feed you.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and I open my mouth. A warm feeling settles in my chest as he cuts a piece of pancake and feeds me.

His lips nibble on mine, and he steals all the air from my lungs. I forget everything until my belly rumbles. He snatches his lips away while I pout.

“Stop distracting me.” He tries for a serious tone while I bat my lashes at him.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You don’t have to.”

At his words, my insides turn to sweet liquid like the syrup. He keeps feeding me forkfuls of pancakes dripping with jam, his nose scrunching up.

“Are you sure?” he asks. I answer him by taking a mouthful and moaning out loud. I almost choke on it when his pupils dilate. I find the usual unmistakable hunger blazing in his eyes.

“You have something there.” He settles further between my legs, and he licks the corner of my lips. “Tastes good.”

I feed him a forkful, while I stare mesmerized at his carved jaw moving. Even his eating is sexy. He brings my hand to his mouth, and he sucks every finger. A heat wave trickles down my spine.

“Eat.”

I pierce him with a look, and he chuckles.

“Eat,” he repeats and out of sheer sexual frustration, I shove half of a pancake in my mouth. Laughter rocks his body.

“Happy?” I say through a mouthful.

He dips his head, and his breath caresses the fine baby hairs on my neck.

“Eat, and if you do it, I’ll eat you.”

I choke and he pats my back then he adds, “Slowly, thoroughly.”

I’ve never chewed so fast in my life. I’m burning up for him to do exactly that.

“I ate it all, like a good girl.” I tease him, opening my empty mouth.

Undiluted lust sparkle in his eyes.

“You did, and you deserve a reward.”

This is the sweetest torture and the mother of all preludes because I am sure if he would lift me up, he’d find pool of wetness. He eyes me with that insatiable hunger that is the tap to my pleasure. He grabs the chocolate syrup.

“What are you doing?”

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