Page 90 of Mine to Worship

He pounces on me and my heart speeds up. I run up the stairs, but he catches me, lifts me up, and I squeal.

“Hmm, do you have any suggestions about what I should do, now that I’ve caught you?” he asks as he nibbles on my neck.

“Watch a fight?” I tilt my head and tap my lips as if in deep thoughts.

“Our kid will come out a fighter if you keep watching fights.”

“Like daddy, like daughter.” An image pops into my head and laughter bubbles out of me. “I can picture it. She’ll get hurt while training to fight and you’ll be torn between ripping everyone’s head off and pretending it’s no big deal.”

He groans in my hair, and I add, “But don’t worry, I will be there, watching the instructor carefully.”

With the playful exchange, my mind and body become elated.

He leads me to the couch, sliding off his shirt and jeans.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

He takes a seat, angles his face to the side, puts a fist under his chin, and poses.

“Giving you a picture worth drooling over.”

I drop to the floor, the tears from my laughter blurring my vision.

He helps me up and I say, “Baby, if you don’t stop, I might die.”

Kian raises a brow and smirks. “You’re so getting fucked. You won’t dare look at other men ever again.”

“What other men? Are there other men?” I place my hand on my chest in fake surprise.

He urges me with a hand gesture to keep going, greedy for compliments man.

I smack him playfully on his chest.

He looks almost boyish with this newfound serenity softening his features, but I am not fooled. He is a wolf, and a wolf hunts and rules.

I have no idea who is even fighting as we watch television—-my eyes are glued to Kian’s ripped arms, that sculpted muscle pack, and that V that has a direct link to the drool gathering in my mouth.

He watches me lusting over him, amusement flickering in his eyes.

My eyes land on the tent in his boxers.

I decide to play, too, and strip off my shirt.

“Angel.” That deep voice and the lust clamoring in it, make my skin prickle and my nipples pebble. I clench my legs together as I watch him stroking his cock, trying to ignore my rising desire for him.

“Don’t I get a kiss?” he asks me, full of fake innocence.

I climb into his lap.

“Oops,” I say when my nipple grazes his lips, and he sucks one then the other.

“Oops,” he says as he rips my thong and slides inside me.

I will never get tired of the playfulness engulfing us and him making love to me.

With every week passing by, it cements how much I enjoy it here.

I love to wake up to him kissing my belly and see the look of pure adoration on his face, awe and wonder battling in his eyes.

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