Page 53 of Devour
Her voice pulls me out of my thoughts. I blink and realize she’s holding a spoonful of porridge to my lips. I shake my head. She nudges the spoon closer. Some of it smears on my lips.
“I made this myself. Griselda taught me. Try it, it’s good.”
I slip out my tongue to catch the smear, and I catch her eyes following the movement. I’m suddenly in the mood to tease her. I lean back against the pillow, putting distance between me and the spoon.
“Noah?”.
Her face lights up instantly.
“He’s much better. His doctor says in a few weeks, he’ll be able to go out fully, maybe even return to school. He’s using the playroom now. You should’ve seen the look on his face when I told him he could play with all the toys.”
I watch her get caught up in the moment, excitement blooming across her features. It brings a smile to my face. She finally stops, realizing she got a little carried away.
“Sorry,” she says, clearing her throat. “You should eat before it gets cold.”
She brings the spoon back to my lips. Damn porridge. I could get full just from hearing her talk like that—with so much joy lighting up her face. I take the spoon into my mouth. It actually tastes good, but I don’t let it show.
I keep my gaze locked on her as I slowly let the spoon slide out. Her lips part slightly as she watches mine, hesitating with the now-empty spoon.
She seems to catch herself, quickly scooping up another spoonful and bringing it to my lips again. I do the same thing slowly, deliberately, watching her.
“How long have I been out?” I ask.
“Four days.”
“Four days?” I groan. “I’m sorry for making you worry.”
She pauses, the spoon dipping back into the bowl, like she wasn’t expecting me to say that. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting it either. She continues feeding me, spoon after spoon, and I keep letting it slide from my lips, slow and deliberate. I know exactly what I’m doing.
By the sixth spoonful, I notice her breathing has turned uneven. Her nipples press against the fabric of her loose shirt, hard and obvious through the thin material. I pull back slightly.
“I don’t want it,” I murmur, fully intending on taking advantage of the moment.
“Does it taste bad?” she asks, a flicker of concern in her eyes.
“No,” I say quickly, reassuring her.
“Then what is it?”
“I want something else.”
When she asks what I want, I know I’ve got her right where I want her. I take her hand and guide it down my chest, slipping it under the covers. I watch her expression shift from confusion to stunned silence when I place her hand directly over the hard length of my cock.
“You.” She tries to pull her hand away, but I keep it firmly in place.
“The doctor said—”
“The doctor’s not here.”
“You’re still injured,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “You can’t move too much.”
“I don’t have to move much,” I mumble, guiding her hand over the length of me, rubbing it in slowly. I give her the best pleading look I can muster puppy eyes with a devil’s edge.
She bites the side of her lip as she glances around, like the doctor might suddenly appear and scold her for breaking his orders.
If I weren’t so horny and desperate, I might’ve laughed. But then, her hand starts moving on its own. She caresses my cock through my pants, and I close my eyes, throwing my head back, intent on enjoying the feel of her soft hands on me. A moan escapes my lips.
Suddenly, something pops into my mouth. Confused, I open my eyes and look down to find her holding another cherry to my lips, her eyes fixed on mine.
