Crap.
He pulled the fabric open and she immediately moved to cover herself but he stopped her easily.
“Hands at your sides.”
Her damn traitorous body did exactly as he instructed, her hands dropping to her sides.
Now she was sitting on his lap—straddling him—her robe open and her naked body on full display for his hungry gaze. He was unabashedly staring, his finger trailing from her neck down the center of her chest.
“Hungry?” he asked, not bothering to look in her eyes when he spoke.
“Yes,” she croaked out, her throat as dry as the Sahara desert.
“Good,” he said, lifting his gaze up to meet hers.
He had set the chair so that the table was on his left side, all of the food within easy reach for him. She watched, desperately waiting for the opportunity to pull her robe closed. He never allowed her although he masterfully prepared two biscuits with butter and honey before pouring orange juice into both glasses. He did all of that with one hand, his other remaining flat against her chest, his thumb mindlessly brushing over her right nipple.
When the food was prepared, he didn’t hand her the biscuit as she thought he would. Instead, he lifted it to her lips, waiting patiently until she opened her mouth, which she eventually did because she felt stupid just sitting there staring at him.
She took a bite, then he took a bite. He continued to feed her, pausing to hand her a glass of juice. She was grateful for the chance to do something for herself, and she gulped down the contents quickly. When she was finished, she was still thirsty.
“More,” she said, her eyes locked with his.
Sawyer poured more, but this time he filled it almost to the top before handing it back to her. She had to be careful not to spill it on herself.
“Don’t move,” he ordered and her eyes widened. “Hold the glass right there and don’t spill a drop.”
Kennedy tightened her grip on the glass, using both hands so that she could keep it steady. What happened next stole her breath and had her in danger of being drenched in orange juice.
Sawyer retrieved the bottle of honey before pushing her robe off her shoulders. It slid down to her elbows, her breasts completely exposed. He then proceeded to pour honey on her nipples. Her gaze immediately dropped to her chest as she watched him lick the honey from her breasts, slowly tormenting her by swirling his tongue around the hardened tips then gently nipping them with this teeth.
She groaned, almost spilling the juice. As it was, she had to transfer the glass back to one hand or she wouldn’t have been able to watch him. For whatever reason, she didn’t want to miss the action.
“Sawyer. Oh, God,” she spoke loudly, her voice rough from the pure ecstasy swamping her.
“Don’t spill the juice, Kennedy.” The words came out as a demand and her pussy clenched.
She was doing her best not to spill it, but she wasn’t going to make any promises if he kept that up. He got creative, drawing designs on her breasts with the honey and then licking it off. Slowly.
So slowly, she felt every pounding beat of her heart against her chest, the sweet throb in her clit. It was more than she could take, but somehow she managed to sit there while he feasted on her. When he finally set the bottle on the table, she thought he was finished, but she should’ve known.
He wasn’t even close to being finished.
And he told her as much as he reached for the glass of juice, putting it on the table beside the honey.
What happened next, she would never—not in a million years—forget.
Nor would she ever look at her kitchen counter the same way.
SAWYER ROSE FROM the chair, holding Kennedy to him and then depositing her on the island in the center of her kitchen. For a brief moment, he thought she was going to argue, but she kept her mouth closed, which made him smile.
“You won’t be needing this,” he said as he slid the robe down her arms, leaving it on the counter so she would have something between her skin and the cool granite. “Lie back.”
“Sawyer, what are you gonna do?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“I’m gonna finish my breakfast. Remember how I told you I intended to shove my tongue in your pussy? Well, I’m makin’ good on that promise.”
She shivered, but she did as he told her, lying flat on the island. While she got into position, he grabbed the bottle of honey from the table and returned, standing at the end and pulling her closer to him. When he poured honey on her mound, Kennedy’s back bowed, her beautiful breasts thrusting upward, drawing his gaze briefly. He continued to watch her as he dove in, licking the honey from her before eating her pussy until she was screaming his name, her knees clamping down on his ears as she came with a force that nearly knocked him backward.