Chapter 29

29

Hunter

"That was really, really good." She leans back with a sigh.

Her eyes are glazed over with what I recognize as the classic signs of food coma. A warm sensation floods my chest. My heart feels like it’s expanding until it fills my ribcage. Satisfaction—that’s what it is. A feeling of contentment so different from anything I’ve experienced before, it takes me a little time to understand the root of it. I may not have hunted down the food for my woman, but I cooked it and made sure she enjoyed it. It’s the single most significant thing I’ve accomplished, except for when I made her come. It’s more rewarding than winning the election in my constituency, more enjoyable than anything I’ve done for myself in the past. And all I did was make sure she was well fed. What is it about this woman that makes me want to take care of her every need?

"You did say that you trained to be a chef, but this was exceptional." She tilts her head back.

"I’m pleased you liked it." I polish off the rest of the food on my plate, then reach for the champagne bottle. I top her off, then myself.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Minister?" She peers at me from under her eyelashes.

"Am I succeeding?"

"And I thought I was the lawyer." She chuckles.

"Oh, you know us politicians. We have to be part entertainer, part statesman, part every other profession that needs to be people-facing. And in my case, it’s woven through with the need to do good for the country."

"Where does it come from? This need to do good for the country?"

"That’s a good question." I look into the depths of my flute. "When I first decided to stand for elections in my constituency, I did so because it was expected of me. My father held down the seat, and my grandfather before that, so it was expected of me. I’d been preparing for it my entire life, yet when I got elected, no one was more surprised than me."

"I’d have been surprised if you hadn’t been elected to the parliament," she murmurs.

"Two compliments in the space of two minutes, I do believe you may be thawing, Councilor," I drawl.

She raises a shoulder. "I may not always see eye to eye with you, but I’ll be the first to admit that of all the politicians on the scene today, you stand out as being the most well-intentioned."

"Why, thank you, Fire."

She flushes, and goddamn, that’s adorable. She might come across as a hard-headed career woman, but I can see the woman she really is—soft-hearted, generous, loyal. I know her better than she realizes.

"I’m not saying anything the critics haven’t pointed out already." She scoffs.

"But it’s you saying it; that means a lot."

She places her glass of champagne on the table with a clink. "Don’t, please."

"Don’t pay you a compliment?"

She nods.

"So, you can pay me a compliment, but I can’t return the favor?"

She locks her fingers together, a sure sign that she’s flustered. "I don’t want you to get any ideas."

"Ideas, hmm?" It’s my turn to place the glass of champagne on the table. "I wonder what you think these ideas may be?"

"You know. Me, you" —she flutters her hand in the space between us— "this thing between us."

"What thing?"

"You know this…this attraction, chemistry, lust, whatever you want to call it."

"And if I say it’s more than that?"

She stiffens. "It’s not more than that."

"You sure, baby? Because whatever we did last night touched the both of us, and I don’t think that’s happened to either of us before."

"It was just sex."

"I see." I drag my finger below my lower lip, and her gaze drops to my mouth. Her pupils darken, until the black bleeds out into the iris and there’s only a circle of gold around the circumference. She swallows. The pulse at the base of her throat flutters like the wings of a hummingbird. "Just sex, hmm?"

She blinks, then glances away. "Just sex." She reaches for her glass of champagne and knocks it back, then slides it in my direction. "More."

“I live to fulfill every one of your wishes, Fire.” I rise to my feet and her gaze widens. "Where are you going?"

"To get dessert."

"Dessert?" She frowns.

I head toward the counter and whip off the cover of a dish that I’d left to cool.

"You made dessert?" Her voice rises in pitch.

"Made would be a stretch. I merely pulled off the wrapper and slid it into the oven to warm up."

"And actually remembered to pull it out, counts as a win."

"You don’t cook at all, I take it?" I scoop out the dessert onto two plates.

"Nope, much to my mother’s chagrin." She pushes her hair back from her face. "My mum works side-by-side with my father, but she always finds time to cook for her family. It’s just not something that interests me, I admit.”

I place the dish on the table, then half bow. “Voila.”

"Is that Christmas pudding?" She gasps.

"Cranberry and chocolate Christmas pudding."

She pales a little. "That’s my favorite.”

"I know." I scoop out some of the pudding and hold it out. "Open," I say in a hard voice.

She pales, looks like she’s about to protest, then complies. Thank fuck. I slide the spoon of pudding between her lips. She closes her mouth around the spoon and wipes it clean. A dab of cream sticks to her lower lips. I reach over, wipe it off with my thumb, and bring it to my mouth. When I suck on my thumb, her breath hitches.

I scoop up more of the pudding and, once more, offer it to her. Again, she leans forward, closes her mouth around the spoon, and licks up the dessert. She swipes the tip of her tongue across her lower lip, and the blood drains to my cock.

I put the spoon aside, then drag my finger through the pudding and pick up a dab of the pudding. I lean over and spread it across her lips, before dragging my finger down her chin, her throat, to the valley between her breasts.

"What are you doing?" Her voice sounds breathless.

"I think I’d prefer to eat this dessert off your skin."

"You’re crazy."

"And you agreed to do everything I asked." I raise my gaze to hers. "Unless you want to use your safe word?"

She stays silent for a second or two, then shakes her head again.

"Good girl."

Her features flush. She licks off some of the pudding from her lower lip, and I click my tongue. "I didn’t give you permission to do that."

She scoffs. "Seriously?"

"Don’t defy me, baby."

She tilts her head. A considering look comes into her eyes, then she reaches over, swipes up the pudding, and brings her finger to her mouth. She sucks on her digit and flutters her eyelashes at me. "Oops."

My heart begins to race. Adrenaline dumps into my bloodstream. "You’ve done it now, Fire. I’m giving you until I count to five."

"Eh?" She lowers her hand and blinks. "What do you mean?"

"Run, baby. If I catch you, I’m not letting go of you—not until I make you come the remaining sixteen times."

"Seventeen, actually." Her lips kick up.

"So, you were keeping count?"

"I take my orgasms very seriously."

"So do I." I rise to my feet; so does she.

"If you want a head start, I suggest you run, now." I jerk my chin in the direction of the door.

"Ooh, I’m so scared." She mock shivers.

"You should be."

"Five."

"What are you doing?"

“Counting down.” I smirk. "Four."

She narrows her gaze. "Thought you didn’t want me to touch the floor of the house with my feet?"

"Change of rules. Three." I roll my neck, and her entire body stiffens.

She looks at the doorway, then back at me. "Are you being serious about this?"

"I’m always serious with you, Fire. Two." I crack my knuckles.

She gulps, shuffles her feet. "I think this entire thing is stupid. You seem to change the rules at any time, and with very little warning."

"My rules. I change them as they suit my needs. Except for one thing. Are you going to use your safe word?"

She shakes her head slowly from side to side.

"Good girl."

A tremor shakes her shoulders.

"Your time just ran out, Fire. One." I lean over the table.