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“Only with people I’m not interested in talking to,” he says.
“Oh, so you’re interested in talking to me?” I ask, tilting my head teasingly.
His answer takes my breath away, earning him a deeper, hungrier kiss. “I’m interested in everything having to do with you.”
Am I still breathing? Because I feel as if my soul just left my body.
12
Sigurd
Talking, washing dishes, cleaning fish. I’m interested in doing literally everything with Stasi.
I’d happily go to a prison cell for a life sentence with this woman.
One thing I’d never be is bored.
I like her smart mouth, I like her scent, I like her voice, I even like the way she doesn’t listen when I tell her to do things. The fact that she makes an incredible fruit tart and smashed potatoes is a bonus.
Apart from the paid chefs at the palace, only Mr. Black cooks for me.
That tart, though. That tart was made with…something extra.
With Stasi perched on the counter in front of me, I have a more direct line of sight to her sweet mouth. Her full lips. Her strong chin is now pink from rubbing against my beard. Her long lashes frame shocking blue eyes that see directly to my soul.
Her sweet moans against my mouth make it more and more challenging to hold on to my sanity. I want to grab onto these fleshy hips and let my cock burrow deep into her softness, making her hiss with pleasure. I want to claim those incredible tits with my hands, my mouth, my everything. I want to taste and lick her literally everywhere. Everywhere.
Instead of doing any of that, I make the wiser choice. I let go of her hair and take her hands in mind.
It’s enough to tame the beast inside. For now.
Stasi looks at one set of our joined hands and gives me a knowing look. “I never would have guessed you were a hand holder,” she says.
“I…like holdingyourhands. Your hands feel good,” I say.
She looks away shyly and bites her lip. I follow her gaze as it darts around the room until finally she can look nowhere else but in my eyes. “What is it, Stasi?”
“I like it too,” she says.
“Tell me what else you like,” I say.
Her eyes widen. “You mean…sexually?”
Gods, yes, please, tell me everything. But that’s not what I meant, and I can see by how her shoulders lift that that’s right out of the question.
“If you want to, but that’s not what I meant,” I say.
“Oh,” she breathes. “Sorry. Sometimes I can be a bit thick.”
I know she means thick in the head, but I can only focus on her fleshy thighs and how I want them to pin me in place when I make her come with my tongue.
Touching my lips to hers in a soft, caressing kiss, I press on. “Tell me,” I insist.
“Well,” she says. “I like the way you say my name.”
“Stasi.” I note her slight shiver. “Like that?”
“Mm. Yes,” she says, her eyes fluttering closed. “And I like that your first impulse is to carry me around when you absolutely do not need to.”
