“Is that mine?” The blanket slipped off me when I jumped to sit up.
Christian’s smile vanished and his movements stopped.
His gaze lowered with a hard swallow.
What was he—oh.
My tits were bare. Nipples pebbled into sharp peaks from his molten gaze. Because I wasn’t a complete tease, I grabbed the blanket and covered myself.
“You seemed to be loving the view too much,” I muttered with a heavy huff of air to blow away a strand from my face.
Christian’s pearly whites appeared from behind his one type of smile. All bright and straight and perfect like the man himself. I blinked stupidly because how did he look this good in the morning when I represented a rat or even the lowest, most disgusted corner of where a rat might take a dump.
“I loveyoutoo much.”
A full-blown, heated blush rises up my cheeks at the same time I shuffle with the blankets until they drape around me. “Stop changing the subject.”
“Me loving you should be the only subject.” A spark glinted with his bright smile before he went back to sewing. “You should sleep more, it’s still early.”
It was indeed very early, but I spent many mornings without him and now I want to spend every morning with him.
Sue me.
“If I refuse?” I taunted with a raised brow.
He narrowed his eyes, but the smile remained. “I should stay true to my promise and spank you.”
Molten liquid spread through me.
“And if I refuse that?”
He smirked. “Something tells me you’d like it.”
I’d love it, but I wasn’t telling him that.
I needed him again.
I got off the bed and scurried over to him.
Christian looked up and tilted his head. “Can I help you, Mrs. Hayes?”
“You can, actually.” I grabbed the hand not holding the needle and pushed my sex into his palm.
He watched through a hooded gaze as I took control and slid his fingers inside with a hoarse gasp. “Your fingers are so thick.”
“Fuck.” Christian curled one inside and it hit right where I needed it badly.
I buckled, the blanket slipping from my shoulders, while holding his eyes. He trailed down to my tits that were barely exposed then to our hands down there. He moved to press a kiss to my navel, while we continued the onslaught of making me come together.
My brain fused with intense pleasure and nonsensical words. All I could do was feel the way his fingers were pushing in and out of me—how he knew exactly where to make me belt over and grab his hair. How he perfected the look of making my pleasure his.
“You like this, don’t you?” He hit that spot again and I gasped, clutching his hair with my free hand. “Pretending to be in control when we both know it’s my fingers in your cunt.”
“You like it too,” I whimpered when he nipped the roundness of my stomach.
“No,” he groaned. “I fucking love it.”
He quickened the pace and I let him.
