He held her against him, unmoving, thumb smoothing in the slowest path across her lips, then he pulled his hand free and clutched her shoulder. “Let’s go down.”
While they descended the stairs to the suite, her mind wandered back to the intimacy of him touching her face like that. God, she was going to lose her mind for wanting him, and this time she didn’t know how to forget him. It took years to get over Oz Morgon.
She reached the kitchen, and he closed the door behind them. “Is there food here?” she asked. Raising boys taught her to be practical first.
“Should be.”
“You don’t know?”
Again, that amused tip of his lips. “No.”
She walked to the fridge and opened it to find it stocked well enough to prepare a few meals. If they must, they could hole up here together in their love nest and—
Slicing that thought down with a mental machete, she pulled out eggs, butter and orange juice. He watched her from across the room.
For the first time, she wondered if he could be feeling as awkward as she did.
She tipped her head. “Is there a toaster?”
“Yes.”
“Do you mind preparing the toast while I fry us some eggs? Or doesn’t the great Oz Morgon eat breakfast?”
He released the softest of laughs that did a slow crawl through her lower belly. Next to the toaster sat a loaf of bread that came from a bakery. While she located a skillet and began to prepare the eggs, she struggled not to stare at his long, beautiful and capable fingers performing such a mundane task as making toast. Those same hands could kill—had killed her kidnappers. They had also loved her so thoroughly the night before.
The sizzle of eggs filled the quiet space with a homey sound. As she cooked, her mind detoured to work and her cases, as it usually did while cooking.
“You’re about to scorch the eggs.”
She jerked her head around and immediately remembered the blow to the head she’d taken and still wasn’t over. Though the headache had lessened, she still felt the effects of what she believed to be a concussion.
Oz stared at her.
She turned back to her task. She hurriedly flipped all five—two for her and three for him. Minutes later, he had the toast all buttered and she held out the plates of eggs for him to drop the toast onto.
They carried their dishes to the counter with a couple stools and sat side by side, eating.
“This bread is good. I don’t usually eat bread,” she said.
“Why not? Watching your weight?” He dipped his gaze over her curves.
“I’m prediabetic.”
He cocked a brow. “No fun.”
“No.”
During her pregnancy, she’d had gestational diabetes and they warned her that in time, she might develop full-blown type 2.
He used his toast to sop up a bit of yolk and popped it into his mouth. “Haven’t had breakfast with many women.”
Her heart slammed, but she remained calm on the surface. How to respond to his statement?
“Rose.”
She met his gaze. God, why did she have to get that twist of longing in her gut every single time she looked into his eyes?
Setting down her fork, she said, “I’m ready to talk.”
He set his down too and then pivoted on his stool to face her. “I’m not.”
She blinked in confusion. “What?”
“I’m ready for this.” With extreme slowness, he reached out for her. When his fingers threaded through her long hair and he molded his other palm to her breast, she gasped.
He stared deep into her soul as he caressed her breast and then lightly pinched the hardened tip into an even stiffer peak. “Before I ruin your opinion of me by answering your questions, I want more of you, Rose. Let me take you to bed.”
* * * * *
Seeing Rose spread out naked in the moonlight had been one of the high points of Oz’s life. But having her spread eagle on his bed with streamers of sun playing over her golden curves hit him even harder.
He’d only ever taken her in the darkness. In the garden and again last night. Now, things escalated…into something deeper and more intimate than before.
He couldn’t stop himself from claiming her. But she formulated other ideas.
As she wrapped her soft fingers around his shaft and drew it to her rosy lips, he fought for control. When she looked up at him, her eyes glittered with lust.
“Let me suck you,” she rasped.
Hell. One swipe of her tongue over the crest of his cock and he’d come on the spot. But this might be his one and only chance to feel his dick sink into the warm cavern of her mouth.
He rocked his hips forward, sinking between her parted lips. She moaned as his mushroomed head filled her mouth, then leaned up on her elbows and sucked him right to the root.
Jesus. Fucking. Christ. When did she learn that trick? His sweet little Rose could deep throat like a goddamn porn queen.
And he was taking full advantage.
He fisted his hands and steadied his breathing, which also slowed his heartrate. Those things helped a man shoot true, but didn’t do a damn thing to keep him from wanting to blow his load down her sweet throat.
Blue eyes locked on his face as she sucked and licked him, hollowing her cheeks.
“Fuckkkk,” he groaned out. Before he lost his grip, he jerked his cock free of her lips.
The saliva glistening on his shaft matched that on her lips, and he had to force his gaze away before he rammed his cock back into her mouth.
“Your turn, sweetheart.” He moved down her body, kissing and nipping at the seam between her breasts and then up the swells to her nipples. Pink with arousal. Begging for his tongue.
He circled each for long seconds before continuing down her body. When he reached her lower belly, she tensed a little and then took matters into her own hands by pushing him down between her spread thighs.
Hell, he hadn’t expected this type of lust to steal his mind, but seeing her glistening folds and her little clit peeking out stole his damn sanity.
With a growl, he delved his tongue deep. She arched up. He tongue-fucked her, tasting sweet, hot juices and enjoying his view of her body. Her breasts jiggled with each rasping breath she took. Need made his own cock harder than ever, and he tried not to think of the way her lips felt around it.
As he lifted his head, he pulled his tongue free of her cavern and lapped a zigzag up to her clit. When he drew on her bundle of nerves, she cried out louder this time. She tossed her head back on the pillow.
Fucking beautiful. How many men in her life had made her feel this way? He hated every last one, despite the fact he’d walked away and never contacted her again. In fact, he enjoyed passing through life and knowing she couldn’t find him and he couldn’t hurt her.
But now they were thrust together by Fate, and he had no choice but to take her with him. Leaving her in the safehouse was not an option—not when too many people came and went. Sure, Elizabeth ran a tight operation, but Rose was his ward. His to guard.
He drew on her pussy with his lips and tongue until she quaked. When she raked her short nails over his shoulders, he amped up his efforts to drive her so high into the throes of passion that she flew with the angels.
Sliding a finger up her inner thigh, he watched her face. Her lips opened on an O of pleasure as he breached her pussy entrance and eased inside. Fuck, her tight, hot grip on his finger just about made him blow.