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“Did that just…” Danny asks slowly.
“Shut the fuck up,” I snarl, stalking out of the room and back to my truck.
“I like her for you,” Danny says, following me out and reaching into the truck bed beside me.
“She’s mine,” I hiss, like a feral fucking animal.
“I’m aware. She’s not my type, even if she wasn’t taken. But just saying, if you wanted to make that particular fantasy come true, I’d never tell a fucking soul.”
The idea of letting someone else see her naked makes me want to lose my mind. “No.”
“Okay,” Danny says, nodding before he grabs two huge boxes and heads back into the house.
Etta’s fully dressed by the time we have everything unloaded. She’s wearing tight sexy jeans and a sweater that’s perfectly modest at the front but only held together by a bow at the back. She’s braless, and her tattoo is on full display, making me want to bend her over the kitchen counter and lick every spot of color with my tongue.
Unable to resist, I sidle up behind her, pushing her hair over one shoulder so I can run a fingertip all the way down her exposed spine. “Did you put this on, hoping all this skin would drive me wild? If you push me and I end up fucking you in front of our friend, I’m going to be forced to kill him,” I rasp into her ear, low enough that only we can hear.
She trembles again, and I roll my hips, grinding my rock-hard dick into her ass. “Behave,” I whisper.
“Jesus, it smells like fucking sex in here and you two are still fully dressed. Do I need to split you up?” Danny asks, his tone trying to be stern but too full of amusement to actually sound annoyed.
Inhaling sharply, I grind my dick into her one last time, then step away, striding determinedly into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, I pull out strawberry jelly and a cantaloupe melon, then grab the fresh croissants I picked up from Tori’s. Slicing one, I slather it in jelly, place it on a plate, and push it toward Etta. Slicing up the melon, I load the chunks into a bowl then push the fruit toward her as well.
“Aren’t you eating?” she asks me.
“I had something earlier.”
“Oh.”
Something about her tone and downcast eyes makes me feel like an asshole, and I don’t know why. Leaning over the counter, I grab her hand and steer the croissant in her fingers toward my mouth instead of hers. Taking a bite, I grin as I chew. “Delicious.”
Her lips tug up into a smile as she pulls her hand back and takes her own bite directly over the spot I just ate.
Once she’s finished the pastry, she picks up a piece of melon with her fingers, lifting it to her lips and eating it. Lifting a second piece, she offers it to me and I take it from her, tasting the pads of her fingers as I suck the juicy fruit into my mouth. We eat in sweet, sticky silence as she feeds both me and herself, licking her fingers between each bite, until my dick is so hard I’m worried I’m going to come in my pants.
“Go away, Danny,” I growl.
“For fuck’s sake,” he says on a dry laugh as he leaves, closing the door behind him.
Stalking around the counter, I step into Etta’s space, forcing her to tip her head back to look up at me.
“Are you trying to tease me, Little One?”
“No,” she whispers
“Hmm, I think that’s a lie. I think my good girl woke up all alone and needy. I think your greedy little cunt is empty of my cum, and you’re feeling a little bratty, so you put on this shirt, knowing it’d drive me crazy to see all this skin. Then you rubbed your ass against my dick and licked your fingers like you were wishing it was my cock.”
Instead of speaking, she tilts her head to the side and licks her lips. A shocked laugh bursts from me. “Oh, is that how we’re playing today?”
Her wide, doll-like eyes look up at me with a naughty, innocent look that is so fucking sexy. If she’s not deliberately playing with me, then I’ll end up in jail for killing someone if she looks at anyone else the way she’s looking at me right now.
“On your knees,” I growl.
Her gaze dips down to the floor, then back up to me again. When I follow her path with my own eyes, I smirk. “On your knees at my feet, Little One. I want to watch you try to swallow my cock.”
Taking a step backward, I allow her the room to awkwardly sink to her knees right here on the floor. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve had plenty of women on their knees for me—any guy who says he doesn’t enjoy getting head is lying—but watching Etta slowly position herself at my feet, then tip her head back and look up at me so trustingly makes me feel like this is the first time I’ve ever experienced this. And maybe it is. Everything with Etta feels different, because it is different. She’s not just anyone, she’s my wife, and I want to imprint myself on her so deeply it’ll be impossible to erase me.
Once she’s settled in position, I reach out and cup her cheek, gently tilting her head back so I can look at her properly. “Take my cock out,” I order.
