He lowers to his knees on the blanket, leaning in to kiss my lips. Hints of leather, cedarwood, and manly musk that is all him engulfing me, his hairline wet with sweat.
“You’re spoiling me with these greetings, sweetheart.” He smiles, inches from my face, leaning in for another chaste kiss before he tugs my lower lip between his teeth teasingly. When he pulls back, my body chases the connection as I fall forward.
“And you’re playing with fire teasing me. What part of this face tells you that I won’t throw you down here and have my way with you, Mr. Wolfe?” I direct a pointed finger at my face, my brows inching higher, and he falls to his side laughing. Propped up on his elbow, he throws a cheese square up into the airfrom the picnic basket beside him and catches it in his mouth. Chewing around that lopsided grin that has me instantly wet at my core.
Fuck him and his devastatingly stupid handsome face.
“While I want nothing more than to ravish you, my temptress—all day, every day, the forty or so builders working on the renovations over there might get distracted if I start stripping you bare and fucking you senseless. I want to give you everything your dark little heart desires, but right here, out in the open, might not be wise.”
“Just a typical Saturday afternoon,” I scoff as two guys in yellow vests pass us, struggling under the weight of the iron beam they’re holding between them.
“If I do, I’ll be forced to slaughter every last one of them for looking at my woman, and it’s a little early for mass murder—even for me.”
The pout on my face has him chuckling as he tugs open the tie of my summer dress decorated with red peonies so a little more of my cleavage is on display.
Sighing, he bites his lip and reaches for my travel cup filled with coffee. He takes a swig, his lip curling in disgust when he realises it’s a coconut milk decaf blend, sweetened with honey. He likes his black with no milk and four white sugars—simple and to the point. Just like him.
“It’s been far too long since you tied me up and punished me,” I whine, fiddling with the frayed edge of the tartan blanket as I wiggle my toes in the dewy grass.
“It’s been exactly four hours since I tied you to the chandelier in our bedroom and edged you to the point you threatened to use a spoon in a very creative manner if I didn’t make you come.”
“And it worked—I stand by my methods of making you concede.”
“You’re also not to be trusted with silverware for the foreseeable future.” He chuckles darkly, bonking me on the nose with his finger affectionately. I snap my teeth at it like a wildcat.
“I have a meeting today with a potential new business partner, and you’ve got to pick out the paint colours for the conservatory.” He runs his calloused thumb over the apple of my cheek, his gaze bouncing between my eyes.
Fluttering my lashes, I throw a silent‘pretty please’at him. My powers of persuasion must be on the fritz because he plants a barely-there kiss against my slightly parted lips and then pulls away. I grumble at the loss of him and snatch my coffee cup from his hand, which only makes him laugh harder.
“Insatiable,” he murmurs, those miss-matched eyes of his bright with adoration as he tucks a curl behind my ear.
“Incorrigible,” I throw back at him as I watch him stand. With the sun high in the sky behind him, it creates a halo effect at his edges as he blocks it out.
My depraved dark angel in all his glory.
Fuck, I’m thinking about his cock again.
He offers me his hand, and I take it. Hauling me to my feet effortlessly. I press myself up against his chest, rising on my tiptoes as he towers over me so I can tuck my face into his neck.
“I’m tired, tense, and turned on,” I grumble.
“And stunning, smart, and sexy,” he adds, kissing my forehead. “I’d suggest a nap, but I don’t fancy having you threaten to rip my spine out of my arse again.”
“Idle threats.” I grin, remembering back to the other day when Ezra had to fuck the sass right out of me after he innocently suggested I sleep off my bad mood and I threatened bodily harm.
I’m tense and on the edge—ready to enact brutal takedowns on a whim.
Maybe I do need a nap.
It’s been hard to get a handle on the mixed emotions I’ve been feeling these past two weeks. Maybe it’s the stress and upheaval of the new build, or a shift in the moon cycle or something. Either way, he’s right—stab-happy with this many witnesses isn’t ideal.
He holds me steady as I slip into the faux alligator skin heels with the red soles at the edge of the blanket.
“New shoes?” he chuckles, knowing exactly where I got them.
“A gift from an old friend,” I reply, reaching up to run my fingers through his beard. Per my request, he’d let it grow out more than he usually would, and I can’t lie, it does wicked things to me.
“Well, that was nice of her,” he adds, his face resting into my touch.
