Chapter 34

W aking up next to Lex will forever be the best thing ever. How is it even possible to be so happy before I even open my eyes? How can someone cause so much delight?

I'm awake first, so I can unabashedly ogle him for a moment. I take my time following the familiar lines of his beautiful face, memorizing them all. He's on his back, the duvet up to his midriff, his powerful upper body exposed to my adoring eyes. I'm lying on my side against him, my head resting on his shoulder, a leg bent over one of his.

The flutters in my chest and belly are unequivocal. I am in love with him—mind, body, and soul. He makes me complete, even though I never realized I was missing something. With him, I'm whole.

When he wakes up a few minutes after me, the satisfaction and delight in his gaze as it meets mine send my heart into a frenzy.

"Hi," I whisper, kissing his shoulder and resting my head there, our eyes still locked.

"Hi."

"I was thinking… I know you have your morning habits, but today feels like a pancake kind of day. Do you want me to make some for you?"

"Mmm, pancakes sound great."

He brings me against his warm body before seeking my lips again. We kiss for a moment, tenderly and lazily. I eventually push myself away from him to get on with my objective.

"Okay, just stay here, and I'll take care of breakfast."

He mumbles something that sounds like an agreement, and I sit on the side of the bed. Because I'm terrible at resisting my impulses when it comes to him, I twist, grab his face, and drop a series of quick but intense pecks on his lips.

He reaches out for me to get more, but I swiftly move away from his greedy hands and get out of bed. I snatch his discarded shirt and slip it on. Once at the door, I turn around and see him rolling on his stomach to hug the pillow under his head, ready to get back to sleep.

On my way to the kitchen, I stretch my arms and back, feeling less sore than I usually do after a night with him. Is my body getting used to him? I'm actually more flexible now.

I cook us a feast worthy of our nocturnal performance. We have pancakes, bacon, sausage, eggs, toast, smoothies I made from scratch, coffee is brewing, and there's also a fruit salad. In the household I grew up in, food is a significant way to express affection, a love language in itself. This succulent breakfast is my love letter to Lex, my way to repay him for the best night of my life. For all the best nights of my life, actually.

I'm just done putting everything on a gigantic tray when I see him come into the living area, only wearing a pair of light gray sweatpants. Damn, that very visible bulge in there is incredibly appealing. And the set of abs above is just as tantalizing, the deep V at his hips pointing straight to his tempting crotch.

I'm so stunned by the vision he offers that it takes me a few seconds to realize my breakfast-in-bed plan is ruined.

"I told you to stay there," I remind him with a pout.

"I thought I shouldn't let you do all the work. I changed the sheets and tidied the bathroom." Oh, right… We got carried away before our shower, and the intense slex on the marbled counter left a mess. A smile bends the corners of his mouth upward when he sees the trays. "Were you going to bring me this in bed?"

I nod, not hiding my disappointment.

"Damn, I would have loved that. It's not too late. I can get back in there," he suggests with a witty smile. I giggle at his apparent excitement.

"No, it's alright. Especially if you changed the sheets. We can eat it here."

He pulls me into his embrace, his hands resting on my waist, his eyes radiating affection. "I'm sorry, Andrea. But the thought of you in my kitchen," he starts, one of his hands reaching for the hem of the garment, "wearing only my shirt—"

"Poor thing… That's why you didn't put one on?" I tease.

"Yes," he humors, his hand moving up along the smoothness of my hips. Soon, he gets to where my underwear would be if I were a good girl. "Give it back."

His attempt at getting me naked makes me scoff. "You need a better wardrobe if that's your only shirt."

"And you need to cover yourself better if you don't want me fantasizing about your bare pussy."

With that, he bends and takes my lips, hungry and demanding. I don't fight him, but when he pushes me toward the counter, I say, "Baby, the food will get cold." He ignores me and lifts the shirt to my waist before propping me on the counter. "Lex, it's better when it's hot."

"Don't I fucking know it," he replies, his agile fingers grazing up my intimate folds. Fuck… I'm already wet. He rubs gentle circles around my waking clit, and all notions of breakfast vanish.

The shirt is discarded on the floor next to him, and he gazes down at my breasts, his irises darkening with desire. My insecurities kick in despite everything we've shared, and I instinctively cover my exposed mounds. Lex grabs my wrist and easily pries my arm away.

"Don't hide from me, Andrea. There isn't one part of you I don't find thoroughly perfect, including your breasts."

"You're the first person ever to like them."

I'm not fishing for compliments, only speaking the truth. While the general shape is rather round, they're so small that it doesn't even matter. And my areolas are too large for the overall size of my boobs and a little puffy. I know what I have to offer, and it was never enough for other men. Three bluntly pointed out I was too flat for their tastes, and two asked if I ever considered breast implants.

"I don't get people then," Lex argues. "I like how your nipples are smooth and a light shade of brown, but when I do this," he says, bending to take one in his mouth. My breath catches in my throat as he bites, sucks, and licks the sensitive tip. "When I do this, they get small, dark, and perky. I like how they move when you're riding me or when I'm taking you hard. I like how they fit so well in my palms," he continues, covering both of them with his hands and fondling them gently. "But I think what I like the most is that they are attached to you. I love them because they're yours."

"And a little yours, too."

The reminder that I'm his is enough to make him lose the little restraint he has left, and he kisses me like a starving man, desperate to own me. An elegant "ding" comes from the coffee machine, reminding me of everything I cooked.

"Lex, baby…" I whisper, framing his face to force him to meet my eyes. Not only am I starving, but I also want us to enjoy what I cooked to the fullest and not eat it cold. "Brunch first, please. Then you can have as much of me as you want," I offer.

He makes a sound halfway between a huff and a groan, then lowers to pick up the shirt. "Let's eat, then, so I can eat you after."

I t might have been ambitious to think we'd be up for sex after the gargantuan brunch she cooked. Neither of us have the capacity to fuck, so we migrate to the couch instead.

When she suggests we use this time to start the movie lessons she's supposed to give me in exchange for all the sex, I tell Iris to set up the room.

Andrea watches in awe as the wide screen rolls down from the ceiling and a 4k projector comes out of it as well. The curtains close, and we're left in near darkness. Once she's fetched her hard drive with her movies, I help her plug it in and we get settled on the couch.

Her choice for this first lesson is The Lord of the Rings , a trilogy I've heard many things about but never seen. I've always preferred science fiction and the projected future they depict to fantasy. I say nothing, though, and tell myself I'll at least enjoy the three hours and twenty-eight minutes together. Fucking hell, who makes movies that long?

To my surprise, I find myself quickly engrossed by the story and its characters. Andrea is lying down with her head on the couch's armrest, and her legs are over my lap. Every now and then, she reaches for a candy in the bag on the low table—leftovers from Lucy's visit. She looks good in her booty shorts and my hoodie, but Frodo and his friends have most of my attention.

Despite the compelling plot, I realize we've never felt like a couple as much as we do right now. This is the kind of intimacy I never expected to have with anyone, but I now crave to share more of this comfortable easiness with her.

Out of nowhere, she sits up, grabs my face, and gives me an intense peck on the lips before lying back down.

"What was that for?" I ask, slightly disoriented.

"You looked too adorable, all focused and intense."

I shake my head with a light laugh and return my attention to the screen. After a few minutes, when Frodo and Sam leave the Shire for their quest, my hands begin to gently massage and graze the softness of her legs. Yes, I definitely want more of these moments. In fact, I think I want them for the rest of my life.

Whenever I get too engrossed in the movie and stop, she wriggles her legs, silently demanding that I resume. I give her an amused glance every time and return to the task.

I don't miss the way she slig htly presses her knees together whenever my hands venture too far up her thighs, even more so when I graze the inner part of them. What started as a platonic endeavor soon turns into a game I'm the only one playing, and I make it my goal to make her discreetly writhe and twist on the couch.

Right after the chaotic Council of Elrond, she gives up and grabs the remote on the table. "We're taking a break," she decides.

"Everything okay?" I ask, feigning innocence.

"Don't act like you're not perfectly aware of what you're doing to me, Coleman."

I'm not good at hiding a smirk. "You can't even watch a movie without having me?"

"Can you?" she retorts, pressing her calf harder onto my crotch, where my dick has been hard for a while.

A broad smile stretches my lips as I yank one of her legs on the other side of me and lean in to cover her body with mine.

"You taste like candy," I say after an urgent kiss. I've never liked sugary treats, but I love it on her tongue, so I try again. Needy, she slips a slender hand under the elastic of my sweatpants, wrapping her fingers around my hardened length.

"Fuck, your hand is cold."

"And you're so hard already," she whispers, licking my upper lip. I groan and thrust into her palm.

Clearly, we're still far from having satiated all our wants and needs for one another, and although we're actively working on it, we still have some way to go.

I'm pulling down the zipper of the hoodie when her phone vibrates next to us. Whoever's calling will have to try again later. Andrea tenses under me as I lay passionate smooches over her exposed breasts.

"Lex, wait," she worriedly says. "Kate knows I'm spending the weekend with you. She wouldn't call unless it's life or death," she explains.

I move away from her as she straightens up and takes the call. "Hi, babe. What's going on?" she asks. I'm close enough to hear her friend's response, but it's incomprehensible gibberish. "Wow, slow down, Kate. Tell me what's happening."

Andrea sits straight on the couch, visibly anxious, and I rest a comforting hand on her thigh. I stay right there as she talks to her friend, understanding that whatever is going on is very serious.

"I'm going to kill that fucking Italian prick," she mutters into the phone at some point. "You stay home, I'll be there in a few hours."

What? Is our weekend together coming to an abrupt end?

After a few more reassuring words, Andrea hangs up.

"What happened?" I ask.

"Her ex has a sex tape of them, and he's threatening to leak it," she explains, fidgeting with her phone. "I'm sorry, I can't leave her alone in this situation."

As much as I dislike what that means, I can't put my needs and desires before hers and her friend's. "I understand. I'll drive you to your place."

She gives me a sheepish smile and hugs me tightly. "My God, you're so perfect," she mumbles as my arms envelop her, half her face plastered against my chest. "I swear I'll make it up to you."

"I'm sure you will. I was rather enjoying the moment."

"You mean the movie?"

"I don't. But I enjoyed the movie too," I playfully retort before giving her a quick peck. "Now go get ready. You have a friend to rescue."

After one last look full of apologies, she disappears into the corridor. I tell myself that her friend needs her more than I do. And I know Andrea wouldn't be able to enjoy the rest of the weekend if I don't let her go.

We'll have more time together. Plenty of it .