I squirm, trying to open my legs wider to let him settle between them. He does with a low groan, but doesn’t enter me. He’s waiting for my answer.
My voice is breathless, distracted as I am by his roaming lips. “You know…” I kiss his temple, the crest of his cheek, “when you’ve had a night of sweaty, hot fucking…” I give the line of his jaw a little nuzzle. “Going at it until you can barely move. And you’ve worked up an appetite that only a stack of pancakes and more hot sex will satisfy?”
Ethan lifts his head then, his eyes slumberous but his expression careful. “You had a lot of those nights?”
It hits me what I’ve said, and my fingers tighten his hair as I tell him the absolute truth. “Only with you, Ethan. That’s why it’s your scent.”
God, his smile, it unfurls like a spring leaf to the rain, spreading wide and open. “Good answer.”
Unfortunately, my stomach also has an answer, and that’s to make a God awful growl as if talk of food has released the hunger hounds.
Ethan grins wide, and a laugh rolls out of him. “What was that? I didn’t quite catch that last bit there.”
“Shut up.” I slap his shoulder while blushing hot over my entire body. “We’ve been at it for hours.”
“And hours,” he confirms with a solemn nod, though the smug satisfaction in his expression grows.
Before I can say a word, he leaps up, hauling me with him. I squeal as he lifts me with one arm. “Ethan, what the hell?”
He strides out of the bedroom. So much for being depleted. His stamina awes me. “Where do you think? To go make you some pancakes. I need to keep up my girl’s strength.”
* * *
Dex
Despite my good intentions, my plan to feed Fi pancakes goes south as soon as she tells me we need flour to make them.
“Shit,” I say, stopping in the middle of the kitchen. Fi’s clinging to me like a little barnacle, her legs wrapped around my waist, her * pushed against my abs—which threatens to break my will and turn me back to the bedroom.
She smiles with sleepy but lust-filled eyes. “You’ve never made pancakes, have you?”
“I’m not much of a cook. Hang on.” I walk us over to the fridge. Holding her tight with one arm, I open the door and bend to rummage through it.
Fi makes another of her adorable squeals as we tilt down. But I’ve got her. She isn’t going to fall on my watch. She weighs next to nothing.
Vague fantasies of doing drills while carrying Fi on my back drift through my head as I grab a box of takeout and set her on the counter, earning another squeak.
“Shit, that’s cold,” she says with a laugh. But she leans back on one arm and gives me a cheeky grin, her golden hair sticking out wildly around her face.
Damn, but she’s gorgeous. So fucking perfect for me, she takes my breath. Sweet, perky tits with puffy nipples that always seem to be begging for a suck. Tiny waist and wide hips. A butt that’s more than a handful. A true Tinker Bell body.
Though I’d never call her Tink the way Ivy and Gray do. She might be diminutive, but to me, she’s also larger than life.
Grasping her knees, I spread her thighs wide. Ah, and there’s that pretty pink *, all glistening for me. My favorite spot in the entire world. I step between her legs and rub her gloriously curvy hips. “I’ll warm you up.”
“I’m sure you will,” she murmurs, her gaze roaming over my chest in a possessive way that fills me with pride and gratitude.
“First, though, I promised to feed you.” I grab the takeout box and pull out a Chinese dumpling.
Fi’s brows lift. “Cold dumplings?”
“Best late-night snack ever.” I hold the dumpling near her lips. “Trust me.”
Her expression is dubious but she takes a bite and makes a little moan of contentment.
“Good, yeah?”
She swallows down her bite and opens her mouth for more.
Carefully, I feed her dumplings until she tells me she’s done. Then I hand her some water. “All good?” I ask, kissing the sensitive little corner of her mouth.