Page 12 of Surrender to Me

Legend smirked, lowering me slowly into the water, the warmth cocooning me instantly, relaxing my sore, spent muscles. “You think I’d leave you in that mess, sweetheart?” he questioned, kneeling by the tub before reaching for a soft washcloth.

I sighed, melting into the water, my body too weak, too satisfied to even try to fight him. I didn’t know what this was. I didn’t know what to call it. All I knew was that I had never felt this worshiped and the weekend had only just begun.

Iwoke up to the sound of waves crashing against the shore. For a few blissful seconds, I was still floating in that half-dream state, my body weightless, my mind hazy with sleep. Then, I shifted and every single muscle in my body screamed in exhaustion.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my thighs sore, my wrists faintly tingling where the silk had held me down hours ago. A slow, throbbing ache pulsed between my legs, reminding me who had put it there. My body flushed with heat as I slowly peeled my eyes open, my vision adjusting to the morning light streaming through the massive windows.

I was still in Legend’s bed—wrapped in soft ass, expensive sheets, my body naked beneath them and my limbs still heavy with exhaustion.

For a split second, panic tried to creep in because I had never done anything like this. Never had someone like Legend. Never let someone completely consume me the way he had. But as I inhaled deeply, feeling the warmth still lingering on my skin, that panic faded. Because I hadn’t just given in; I had wanted it and still did.

The sound of clinking dishes and the faint scent of cinnamon pulled me from my thoughts and I turned my head toward the open bedroom door.

Is this man cooking breakfast?

With a groan, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, pulling the sheet around me, even though he’d already seen every damn inch of me. I padded barefoot toward the doorway, my curiosity winning over the ache in my muscles.

The second I stepped into the kitchen, I paused. Legend stood at the stove, shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. The man was a work of art. Thick forearms flexed as he stirred something in a pan, the scent of deliciousness filling the air, mixing with the rich steam of fresh coffee sitting on the counter.

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling too warm, even though the only thing on my body was a stolen bedsheet. Legend must have sensed me watching because he glanced over his shoulder, that lazy, knowing smirk already forming on his lips.

“Morning, baby,” he said, voice still thick with sleep, but smooth, controlled like he hadn’t just spent the night destroying me.

I shifted against the doorway, adjusting the sheet around me. “You cook?”

His smirk deepened. “You sound surprised.”

“I mean… yeah,” I admitted. “You don’t exactly strike me as the domestic type.”

Legend chuckled, turning back to the stove. “Shit, I’m not but I know how to take care of a woman.”

A slow shiver ran down my spine at those last words. I cleared my throat, stepping into the kitchen and taking a seat in one of the stools at the island. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know.” He slid a plate in front of me with cheesy eggs, crispy bacon, cinnamon rolls, and fresh fruit. My stomach growled as he turned to face me fully, his gaze dragging over my body, pausing where the sheet dipped low on my chest. “But after the night I gave you,” he continued, leaning casually against the counter, crossing his arms, “I figured you’d need the fuel.”

Heat flared in my cheeks. I hated that he was right. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to suppress the way my body responded to just the sight of him. “You do this for all the women you tie to your bed?” I asked, trying to sound casual, unaffected as I reached for the steaming cup of coffee.

Legend’s smirk didn’t falter. “No.”

I lifted a brow. “So I’m... special?”

“Very.” The way he said it—so direct, so absolute—made it believable. I took a slow sip of coffee, needing a distraction, needing to ground myself. “Eat,” he ordered, “then we’ll talk about what comes next.”

I hesitated, my stomach twisting slightly at those last words. Because what the fuck was next? I took my first bite of food and hummed in satisfaction. Legend sat across from me eating his food and stealing glances at me like he was figuring out what to do with me.

I took another sip of coffee, letting the heat settle in my chest, even though it did nothing to quiet the unease buzzing in my head. Because reality was starting to creep back in. This wasn’t a normal morning after. There was no awkward tension and no question of where this was going because we already knew. This was temporary. A weekend. A business transaction wrapped in extreme pleasure. And yet, sitting before him, wrapped in his damn sheets and eating food he had made with his own hands had me thinking. Like maybe… just maybe we could...

“You’re thinking too much, Honey,” Legend muttered, pulling me from my thoughts.

I blinked, my fork pausing midair. “Excuse me?”

He smirked slightly, fingers drumming lightly against the marble counter. “You’ve barely said a word. That mind of yours is working overtime.”

I exhaled through my nose, setting my fork down. “Well, forgive me for processing.”

He lifted a brow, his smirk deepening. “Processing what, sweetheart?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Don’t do that.”

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