19. Hannah

Chapter 19

Hannah

H e backed away, and while I wanted to snarl at him for doing so, I was also grateful. I needed to process all this; from the mating marks I couldn’t deny to the way I lost all control when he kissed me.

I hopped off the counter, grateful that my wobbly legs supported my weight.

“We should go to bed.” I was instantly barraged by thoughts of us beneath the blankets, entwined together. His body sinking into mine. The way he’d hold me after. Dreams of a future with Reylor swirled through my mind, and I couldn’t seem to drive them away.

Hiatus, I reminded myself firmly, but the thought kept slipping sideways, replaced with images of us solving this case, then putting it behind us while we finished renovating the B it was another to challenge not only her but a dragon shifter detective who might bite off their head before they started asking questions.

Not that he could legally do something like that. Monsters had rules they were required to follow.

He checked all the windows and even looked under my bed, finding nothing suspicious.

After rising, he strode over to stand in front of me, studying my face. Even his simple look made heat flare through me. While he was kissing me, I would’ve done whatever he asked. Debased myself, even.

I hadn’t felt that way with my ex, and that scared me because it meant that if this guy betrayed me, I might never recover.

“You’re okay?” he asked gently. “I can stay here in your room with you if you want. I don’t like sleeping a floor above you, though I’ll hear you if you call out. One peep, and I’ll come running.”

“I’ll be fine.” I was a big girl. If I could handle whatever a possible ghost might toss my way, I could take on anything else. “Thank you, though.”

However, I’d sleep better knowing he was in the building.

He traced his fingertips down my cheek and neck, stopping only when his hand reached the top of my shirt. “One peep. I mean it.”

I nodded through the shivers his touch drew out of my soul.

He kissed me much too briefly before striding around me and over to stand in the open doorway. “Lock the door behind me. Remember, I’m going outside first. You’ll see me moving around, so don’t be afraid. I’ll call out to let you know when I’m back inside and the place is secure.”

“Thank you again.”

“One peep, Hannah, and I’m burning the world to the ground for you.”

I slept surprisingly well for a woman who’d had seven windows on her first floor broken only the day before.

Waking to sunlight, I stretched and smiled at Max curled up at the foot of my bed. I loved it when he chose to sleep with me.

Sitting up, I stroked his spine and scratched beneath his chin, making his purr ring out.

When I smelled something smokey, I jolted out of the bed.

Max hissed and scrambled toward the door I’d left cracked open, slamming his way through the gap.

I rushed to the door and flung myself out into the hall, my nose lifted to smell.

Nothing.

No, wait . . . There .

I hurried through the foyer and down the hall to the kitchen, shoving open the door. I expected to see the kitchen ablaze, the latest “gift” from the person trying to drive me out of business. Instead, I found Reylor standing with his back to me, facing the stove. He hummed and sashayed his hips.

He’d looked great in tight sweatpants. Even better with my sofa throw knotted around his hips and giving me a lovely peek of the side of his ass.

This guy in shorts, wearing nothing else to cover up his gorgeous muscles and skin, was pure devastation. Like, he could plow my fields and plunder his way through my battlements, and I’d stand on the castle parapet with my arms wide open.

“Coffee?” he asked in a gravelly voice, not turning my way. “I made a full pot.” He nudged his head in that direction.

“I smelled smoke.”

“Sorry about that. I’m heating some of the brisket I smoked last weekend. I tucked some into the freezer but grabbed it yesterday.”

“Brisket?” Who put the time and effort into slow smoking meat?

A dragon shifter, of course.

“Do you smoke it with dragon fire?” I asked.

“That would burn it. While there are some things I adore setting on fire, you for example, I slow cook my meat. I’ve got a great smoker that I control with an app on my phone.”

I tiptoed across the kitchen to the cabinet holding mugs. After taking one out, I filled it with coffee, adding a dash of cream that swirled in pretty patterns.

“Whipped cream?” he asked.

My brain shot to him squirting cream on my body and licking it off. “Excuse me?”

He carefully shut off the stove and moved the pan off the burner before turning to face me. “Whipped cream.” Grabbing the can off the counter, he lifted it. “Some people enjoy it in their coffee. Where would you like me to squirt it, sweetheart?”

I no longer found the endearment patronizing, especially when he said it with that slow drawl that made my bones melt.

“Here.” I lifted my arm and pointed to the back of my hand, daring him to take me up on this.

He swayed toward me.

I backed up until I reached the wall.

Max, looking between us, scowled, and dashed through his kitty door, aiming for the backyard.

Reylor stopped and delicately squirted whipped cream onto the back of my hand. He placed the can on the narrow table beside us and lifted my hand, closing his eyes and sniffing my skin. His tongue darted out and swept off the cream, tucking it into his mouth. “Sweet. Especially tasty because it holds hints of you.”

My knees shook, and my heart thumped faster than a hummingbird hovering over a flower.

His eyelids opened, and his gaze met mine. “Where else, sweetheart? May I say that I adore seeing you in that outfit?”

I wore only a flower-speckled nightie that skimmed the tops of my thighs. “I should’ve grabbed a robe before I left my room.” Or worn a suit of armor because nothing else was going to hold this guy back.

“Not from where I’m standing.” Taking the cream, he squirted a bit on the indent at the base of my throat.

When he licked it off, shivers tracked through me.

“Maybe I don’t feel like eating brisket for breakfast,” he said. “I’d originally thought of also making eggs. Toasting some of the bread I picked up at the bakery. Instead, I believe I should make a meal of you, Hannah. What do you think about that?”

My breathing fluttered, and my heart was battering itself against the cage of my ribs, determined to break through and surround him.

“I won’t do anything unless you say yes,” he said. “No pushing. I only want to show you pleasure.”

Could this be considered nesting? We weren’t physically standing in a nest, assuming he owned something made of sticks or fur or who knows what. And he wasn’t in dragon form, something I craved to see again when I had time to touch. He would be magnificent, towering over me with his scales gleaming and smoke coiling from his nostrils.

What would it be like to claim such a man for my own?

I wasn’t sure I dared.

His gaze met mine. “Yes or no, sweetheart?”

I jerked out a nod.

“I’m afraid I need to hear your words. I want full consent for what I’m dying to do with this can of whipped cream.”

“Yes,” I croaked, then swallowed. I drummed up some spunk and spoke louder. “Yes. I’d love to see what you want to do with that cream.”

“Yes, indeed.” The whipped cream can in his hand, he dropped to his knees in front of me. Looking up, he gave me such a carnal smile that I could barely remain on my feet.

He peeled off my underwear and tossed it aside.

I’d never felt this wild and unrestrained in my life. My ex was more a missionary guy, and that was okay. I found pleasure in it just the same. But sometimes, I’d wanted to try something new, something that felt like a dare.

This could be it. This guy could be it. And that scared me. What if he hurt me like my ex?

But when he squirted some cream on my inner thigh and slowly licked it off, I forgot about anything but this moment.

“I have an idea,” he said, his eyes smoldering. “Are you open to new ideas, sweetheart?”

If he kept calling me that, I was going to give him my hand and let him lead me wherever he pleased.

“Yes,” I breathed because a nod wasn’t going to be enough.

“Hold that.” He handed me the can and straightened to sweep me off my feet, striding out of my kitchen and down the hall to the library. Inside, he kicked the door shut and peered around before taking me over to the big old desk Justin used when he worked from home as a lawyer ages ago.

Reylor swiped everything off the desk with his arm.

I gasped when the stapler clattered, but when he laid me gently on the surface on my back and tugged me over to the edge and inched up my nightie to expose my lower half to view, I lost all train of thought.

“Spread those legs, sweetheart,” he drawled. “Show me the world.”

As he took the can from me, I hitched my heels onto the edge of the desk and spread my knees.

With a devilish smile, he squirted a bit of cream on my clit.

“Hold this again.” He handed me the cream.

I fumbled with it while he bent down and started licking, groaning while he did it.

I was soon writhing on the desk, yanking on his hair, and thrusting my hips up to his touch.

And when I exploded, falling apart from this simple touch, he looked up at me and gave me a lazy smile. “We need to buy more whipped cream.”