Page 36 of The Marrying Kind
I patted her butt again twice for good measure before finishing making us coffee. She took her cup from me with a sated smile and sipped.
“How is it possible that coffee here just tastes better?” She gazed at the cup as if it might answer her.
“That’s because I made it with love, obviously,” I said, braving the cheesy comment.
As she flipped the French toast in the pan, I switched from patting her butt to outright rubbing myself against it.
“Mmm.” I hummed involuntarily at the feeling. I could live here, pressed up against her soft body. Forward my mail.
When she rocked back into me, I took the invitation and tugged her pants down a little bit to reveal creamy skin. Tugging her hips into me, I inhaled against her neck.
“What about breakfast?” she reminded me as I lifted her shirt and began kissing her lower back, my hands rubbing up her thighs.
Her protest was weak, obviously, because she kept arching into me, enticing me. We’d only just finished upstairs fifteen minutes ago, but I was ready to go again.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever get enough of Ella. I didn’t want to get enough of her. That was the point to finding a wife. She would be yours forever. I’d get to pat her perfect bottom over coffee until I keeled over. What a thought ...
“Let it burn,” I said on a groan and tugged my sweats down a little to tease her.
After cutting off the burner on the stove, she spun around to face me, weighing my thick erection in her hand.
I grinned like I’d just won a prize and lifted my eyebrows. “You make me so damn crazy, Ella.”
She licked her lips in reply, which just about killed me. There was nothing hotter than Ella taking what she wanted. I was certain I’d be wrecked for other girls at this point. Ella’s charm was heady stuff, especially the way she sank to her knees right there at the stove and swiped her tongue across me.
My head dropped back, and I hissed louder than the French toast.
“Fuck, you’re so perfect, princess. That tongue, so soft ...”
My words devolved quickly into a string of nonsense babble as she closed her lips around me, producing a powerful suction effect with her mouth that had my toes curling where I stood.
I couldn’t let her finish me, not here on the kitchen floor, so I tugged her up, hauling her into my arms. She wrapped her legs around me and I took her to the couch ... there was no time for stairs. I needed my face between her silky thighs, and I needed it now. More than I needed that next sip of coffee, or that tantalizing French toast—whose scent now filled the air—more than my next damn breath.
This girl was consuming me, and she didn’t even know it. A big part of me hoped she felt the same way, that she could see this thing between us was becoming impossible to ignore.
One thing about me was I had always been a fast learner, and Ella’s preferences were no exception. So, I went straight to work and had her murmuring her appreciation within minutes. Afterward, I wore a cocky, proud grin.
“So, French toast?” I beamed at her, and she caught her breath.
She gave her head a sexy little shake and crawled over to me with a determined look on her face that I burned onto the back of my eyelids. Leaning back on my thighs, I let her tug at my sweats and pull me free. And for the record, Ella was as quick a learner as me ... she had me groaning out my own appreciation all too soon.
By the time we made it back to our breakfast, it was stone cold. But we both ate it happily, standing over the counter and dipping pieces of French toast into a small dish of warm maple syrup, watching each other with matching smiles on our faces.
This could be every day.
“You should stick around until spring,” I blurted as I pulled the sweet bread through the sticky liquid.
Her smile faltered, almost like she was about to frown at my idea but stopped herself.
“There’s so much we could explore here together.”
My voice held a twinge of desperation that I didn’t mean to reveal. Since when was Ithisguy? Since a womanthisamazing happened into my life.
Ella’s mouth pulled into a line. “That would be fun. You tempt me to stay, Austen. You really do, but that’s precisely why I need to leave.”
My brows stitched together in confusion, and I grabbed Ella’s hips as if she were going to run away right that very moment. She let out a soft exhale at my touch, her eyes closing a beat as if to underscore her words.
“Ella, you’re not making any sense.” I stepped closer to her, my hands sliding up her waist.
