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“Ellis,” he warns.

I look up at him. “What? You told me to lick you.”

And I continue to lick. Rainier’s stomach continues to quiver. I grin and decide to up my game even more by running my fingers up his thighs. My fingers brush against his crotch.

Rainier hisses.

I lick the rest of the icing off while I stroke him with just the pad of my thumb through layers of fabric. Those layers start to form a tent. I press against the pinnacle of that tent and Rainier gasps. I rub it as I dip my tongue into his navel and he grips my shoulder.

“That’s enough,” he says as he pushes me away.

I look at his stomach as I step back. I rub my hands as if to shake some dirt off them.

“You’re right. My job is done.”

I reach for my glasses, intent on going back to my cookies, but Rainier jumps off the couch and wraps his arms around me from behind. The tent in his pants pokes my back.

“You think you’re going to get away just like that?”

I glance over my shoulder. “No?”

He shakes his head. “By now, you should know, Ellis Smithson, that you don’t get rid of me that easily.”

He brushes his nose against mine, then his lips. They press against mine in a firm kiss to steal my breath and I let go of my glasses. I place my hands on top of his as I lean against him and kiss him back. As our tongues meet, a shiver of delight goes down my spine. Flames of triumph roar inside my chest.

Rainier is mine. His kisses are all mine.

As always, they send heat traveling all the way to my toes. Butterflies flutter beneath my skin and swirl in my stomach. I feel like they might make me float into the air.

And I don’t have the strength to keep my feet on the ground. I’m using up all my strength to keep standing as it is.

Rainier’s hands slip out from under mine. They go beneath my apron, beneath my knitted top, and then beneath my bra. His palms cover my breasts and I pull my mouth away to let out a gasp. My nipples poke his skin.

He kisses my neck as he plays with my nipples, both at the same time. He pinches them gently, tugs on them, flicks them with his thumbs and rubs them. I grab his hips and lean back against his shoulder as moans spill from my lips. My knees tremble and grow weak.

When Rainier steps back I almost stumble, but he holds my arms and gently pushes me forward so I’m leaning over the counter. He pulls the knot keeping my apron around my waist so it hangs from my neck, then he rolls up the hem of my shirt all the way to my armpits and reaches for the piping bag.

My eyebrows go up. “What are you doing?”

“Payback,” he says.

A moment later, I feel the cold icing on my skin.

I frown. “Payback? I thought you asked me to lick you.”

“Oh, come on, Ellis. You know that’s not all you did.” He brings his mouth close to my ear. “You’re not as nice as you think you are.”

I snort, then stay silent as he continues to write on my back. There’s nothing else I can do anyway.

But boy, does he take his time. Well, I guess his name is longer than mine.

When he’s done, he tosses the piping bag back on the counter. Then he grips my hips and starts to lick the icing off. His tongue feels wet and warm against my skin. It almost tickles.

Thank goodness Rainier decided to write his name on my back and not behind my knees or I’d be peeing myself laughing right now.

As he keeps licking me, though, I can still feel my panties grow damp. His hands leave my hips and play with my breasts again. I purse my lips to hold back moans and wait for him to finish.

Suddenly, his hands leave my breasts. His thumbs slip inside the waistband of my pants and he pulls them down. I feel the cool air on the back of my legs.

He pulls down my underwear next. They rest on my pants, which are stuck around my knees. He pulls them both down to my ankles.

I hold my breath in anticipation of what Rainier will do next. My heart does somersaults inside my chest.

When his fingers bite the cheeks of my ass, I moan. When his fingers brush against the folds of my skin, I gasp.

His finger slips in and my knees shake. He puts in another, moving both in and out, and I fall forward. My arms sweep the trays of cookies aside so I can hug the marble.

My fingers grip the edge of the counter as his continue to thrust into me. At this angle, they seem to go in deeper and press buttons I never thought were there. And to think I thought he’d already mapped every inch of me.

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