Madi shrugged.
I dumped batter in two uneven piles on the griddle. It overflowed. I was clearly a mess. When my female—fuck it, she wasn’t mine—went to sleep, I jerked off in the shower.
It didn’t relax me.
Didn’t even take the edge off.
I ended up on the couch, wrapped between two blankets that smelled so thickly of Madi that my cock had throbbed painfully the rest of the night. Sleep hadn’t happened.
“Wow, that’s a lot of food,” Madison said a few minutes later.
I grunted.
What else was I going to say?
If I didn’t keep cooking, I was going to fuck you in the shower after I was supposed to have gotten you out of my system.
That would go over really well.
I dumped the eggs and bacon on two plates. I hadn’t timed it right, so the hashbrowns needed a few more minutes. The pancakes did too.
I grabbed two forks and put one of the plates in front of Madison anyway. She murmured athank you, and unsurprisingly, my cock throbbed again.
My plate went next to the griddle. At least the pancakes would keep me from staring at her while we ate.
The more I stared, the better chance she’d realize the true extent of my obsession.
And the sooner she realized the true extent, the sooner she’d run.
Which wasn’t safe, considering it was still snowing outside. The falling snow had eased some, but there was a ton of it outside. I wasn’t exactly safe for her to be around, but at least she wouldn’t die with me. I couldn’t say that much about the snow.
We ate in silence for a few minutes. When I turned to place two pancakes on Madi’s plate, she grabbed my wrist before I could turn away.
My gaze met hers.
My cock throbbed again, and I had to fight the urge to lean over the island and kiss her.
There was so fucking much more I wanted with her.
I’d had my mouth on her core, but I hadn’t had her entire bare body pressed against mine. I hadn’t had her tits in my hands and mouth. I hadn’t had her tongue tangled with mine, her hands on my skin, or her cunt wrapped around my cock.
I needed more.
I needed everything.
I’d severely underestimated how much worse my desire would get after I finally had a taste of her.
Now just the feel of her fingers on my wrist was enough to make my balls ache.
“Ambrose…” she trailed off, biting her lip.
It took everything I had not to pull it from between her teeth and replace it with my thumb.
I was deluded.
Perverted, too.
Or maybe just really fucking horny. I liked that label better anyway.
