Rowan’s form moved as his feet thumped faintly on my floor.
Again, I noted this with detachment, my chest rising and falling rapidly.
When he came back, he had a washcloth, and he was gently cleaning himself from me.
The act itself was tender, intimate.
Before, I’d been so hot, I thought my body was going to burst into flames from his attention, from him getting off on watching me.
But the only way to describe how I felt now was warm. Comfortable. Him taking care of me, treating me with reverence.
I looked at him through my lashes, still unable to fathom that this was real. He was real. But he was real. This was real.
“Cupcake, that was the hottest thing I’ve experienced in my whole fuckin’ life,” he told me in a rough voice, taking me even further from what I’d thought reality was.
“Can’t wait to get my cock into that pretty pussy of yours,” he continued. “Know it’s gonna be sweet, tight… fuckin’ heaven.”
And although I thought my body was spent, all pleasure inside of me sated, my thighs pressed together at his words, need for him blooming in my stomach.
Rowan’s eyes were blazing as he leaned down and laid his lips between my legs, on top of my soaked panties.
Then he inhaled. Deeply. Me. The smell of my pleasure, of the aftermath of what we’d just done. What I’d just done.
His eyes found mine, sending my heart into my throat.
“Sweet,” he murmured.
My mouth was dry, every single one of my limbs tingling from the word, from his gaze. From him.
Then, from somewhere outside, a bark sounded, Maggie yanking us back into reality.
Though a large part of me was disappointed, I was somewhat relieved too. There was only so much a girl could take. I needed to regain my bearings.
“I’ll go check on her,” Rowan said, standing up.
“Good idea,” I replied lazily.
He didn’t go right away. He stayed there for a moment, staring at me like he was committing me to memory or something.
“I’ll be down just as soon as I’ve regained use of my legs,” I informed him.
A grin cut through the hunger in his gaze, and he chuckled warmly. I liked the sound of it, the way it brushed against my already sensitive skin.
“Take your time,” he said. “Let me know if you need me to bring you down the stairs the way you came up.” He winked then walked out to check on Maggie.
I watched him leave, unable to connect the winking, chuckling man with the one who, just an hour ago, had been threatening to kill someone who might’ve hurt me.
They didn’t seem like the same person.
But they were.
Rowan was both of those men.
And maybe he was mine.
Chapter
Twelve
Recipe: St. Louis Gooey Butter Cake
From ‘Dessert Person’
I could’ve felt awkward in the aftermath of what had just happened in my bedroom. Lust burned hot and quick, and getting lost in the moment was one thing, but holding on to that intimacy after the embers had cooled was quite another.
I’d had a quick moment of paralyzing fear while I was in the bathroom getting myself together while Rowan was downstairs checking on Maggie. My heart had started hammering, and I was vaguely certain I was having some kind of cardiac episode. It was not uncommon for me. In my experience, a spiral like this would normally take at least an hour to come down from. If not longer. But I heard Rowan downstairs with Maggie. Felt his presence. My body still thrummed with what we’d just done. So my ‘episode’ came and went.
Then I got dressed. In cashmere sweats, fixing the hair that had escaped during our… activities before rubbing some errant mascara from underneath my eyes.
My cheeks were flushed, my eyes bright, glowing, emerald green. They did that when I was happy, excited, well rested. I hadn’t seen them like that in a while.
A post orgasm glow really was a thing, and something that no amount of beauty products could replicate. An orgasm a day keeps the dermatologist away.
Rowan was pouring wine into a decanter when I found my way into the kitchen, my lips stretched into what was surely a cheesy smile. I was still floating on somewhat of a high from the orgasms, everything soft around the edges.
My heart stuttered in my chest, seeing Rowan standing at my bar, hat off, pouring wine while Maggie had claimed what I’d already come to understand as ‘her’ spot.
“Thinking we might have to do a raincheck on dinner tonight,” Rowan told me after his eyes slid up and down my body.
My skin tingled from the look of hunger and appreciation on his face as he took in my simple cashmere sweater set. It skimmed over my curves, showing off my generous hips and ass, but it wasn’t something I considered ‘sexy’. But the way that Rowan was looking at me, you’d think I’d walked down here in lingerie.