I lean back against the cool kitchen counter, watching Anya as she tries to navigate the chaos unfolding in front of her. She’s got her recipe book open, but she seems to be fighting for her life while chopping those vegetables. “Okay, let’s see,” she mutters, scanning the page. Her brows furrow in concentration, and her tongue peeks out like it always does when she is focused. The chopping of vegetables is less rhythmic now; it’s more like she’s battling them into submission.
“Anya, you could hurt yourself. That’s not the right way to cut cauliflower,” I say. My brows furrow.
“I saw it in a reel,” she says. “Besides, isn’t life just one long attempt to avoid dying anyway?” She shrugs.Wow, what a philosophy.I shake my head. A few stray pieces tumble off the cutting board and she sighs in frustration.
I stifle a laugh. She turns around and glares at me. “Don’t laugh at me.” She raises the knife at me, a mock threat. I bring my hands up in surrender.
“But seriously, you don’t have to cook,” I say, trying to keep my tone light. “We could order takeout or something.”
Her eyes narrow and I can see the determination in her expression. “No, I have decided I wantto cook, so I will.” She pushes a strand of her hair away from her face. “And I swear I am not that bad,” I stand up and walk out of the kitchen. I take a right to enter my bedroom and open the drawer on the side table. I rummage around for a moment before grabbing a scrunchie.
I return to the kitchen and find her still wrestling with the vegetables, a frustrated pout on her lips. “Here,” I say, holding up the scrunchie. “Let’s get that hair out of your face, now that you have decided no one can stop you,” I say, standing behind her.
“Are you calling me stubborn?” She narrows her eyes at me.
I chuckle and kiss the top of her head. “Even if you are stubborn.” I gather her unruly hair in my palm and pull back gently, brushing the tendrils away from her face, making her lean back. I place a gentle kiss on her exposed neck, a soft sigh tumbling from her lips. “You are mine.”
“God,” she exclaims. “Your friends are right. You have become cheesy.” She shakes her head, but I can see the small smile forming on her face.
“Maybe. But you like it, Firecracker.” I wink at her. Her earlobes turn red as she turns her head slightly to look at me.
“Shut up.” She huffs, shaking her head.
I turn her around. I lean in closer, my hand finding the nape of her neck as I pull her gently against me. Her breath hitches as our lips finally meet. The kiss starts soft and tentative. She melts into me and everything feels right. I can taste the carrot she must have eaten when she was chopping it. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer, and I deepen the kiss. My hands slide down her hips, gripping tightly. She moans, making my dick hard. Pulling back slightly, she smirks.
“Why are you hard?” The million dollar question.
“Your existence is enough of a reason, I feel.” I shrugand capture her lips again. She exhales deeply. I groan as her hand travels down to my crotch. Her hand grazes over my crotch, a jolt of electricity running through me. My breath hitches as her touch is soft and teasing, and it’s driving me insane.
“Anya,” I whisper against her lips, my voice hoarse with desire. She looks up at me, her eyes mischievous like she knows exactly what she’s doing. That smirk, the way she teases—it only makes me want her more.
“You’re so easy to rile up,” she murmurs, her fingers playing with the waistband of my sweatpants. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips swollen from our kiss, and she is panting lightly. I run my thumb against her bottom lip. She’s so pretty; I can’t ever get over it.
Sometimes, I want to throw a fit just to make her realize how much power she has over me. It’s like she’s taken every part of me and wrapped it around her finger without even trying. The worst part? I’m not mad about it. I’m grateful and maybe that’s what scares me the most—how easily she can undo me with just a look, a touch, or even that quiet sigh she makes when she’s lost in thought. She doesn’t see what I see. She doesn’t know how she turns my entire world upside down without even trying. It’s in the way she’s standing here, flushed and beautiful, not realizing that she’s the most breathtaking thing in this room—hell, the most breathtaking thing in my life.
I pull her towards me, kissing her forehead before resting mine against hers. Our breaths mingle. “Stop teasing me, Firecracker,” I say quietly. I place a soft kiss on her jawline.
“Why would I stop? It’s too much fun watching you squirm,” she says, her voice a melodic whisper.
I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Only with you,” she counters, the softnessin her gaze making my heart race.
I frown and sniff. “Is something burning?” The smile on her face disappears, a look of panic taking over.
Anya quickly turns towards the stove and gasps. “Oh no! My veggies!” she exclaims, swiftly turning off the stove and fanning the air to disperse the smoke.
I chuckle at the sight of the blackened mess in the pan. “It’s all your fault. You distracted me.” She crosses her arms over her chest, scowling at me.
I step closer to her. Grinning lazily, I bend down slightly, wrapping one arm securely around her waist and the other beneath her knees, lifting her effortlessly off the ground.
Anya lets out a startled scream. “What are you doing?!” she cries, arms going around my shoulders instinctively.
I smirk and carry her into my room. She swats my chest but I do not react. I push the door with my leg and it closes with a bang.
“Now that you have burnt my dinner,” I whisper in her ear. “You owe me a meal.” I throw her on the bed. “And I am about to collect.” I grin.
Anya lands with a thud on the soft mattress, her hair fanning out around her head. She looks up at me with a mock glare, her face flushed. I lean down, my body hovering over hers. Her breath hitches as she takes me in, her eyes roaming over my face and body. They seem hazy, weighed down by desire.
