“I like you in this sweater.”
She laughed. “I think you like me in anything I wear. Especially if it’s nothing.”
“Mmhmm,” he agreed, using his tongue against her skin, paying special attention the area behind her ear. She tilted her head back against him and sighed.
“Aidan,” she reprimanded, flipping the pancake to the uncooked side. “I’m cooking. I’m hungry.”
“I see that,” he mumbled, then nipped the end of her ear. He pushed her hair away from the back of her neck with one hand and continued his exploration with his mouth. The taste of her skin against his tongue was better than any pancake could ever be.
“But we have a problem,” he continued, sliding his hands up the front of the sweater. The flat of her stomach twitched when he trailed his hand over her belly button and she sucked in a breath. “I’m craving something even better than pancakes.”
“Nothing is better than pancakes,” she said, her voice light and breathy.
“Oh, I beg to differ.” He cupped her breasts in his hands, the rounded globes filling his palms. She dropped the spatula to the counter and gasped when he pinched her nipples. They pebbled between his fingers and he sucked on the skin on her neck.
“The food is going to get cold,” she said, still making excuses even though her back arched, pushing her breasts further into his hands. He used one hand to grip her hip and rubbed his rock-hard cock against her.
“I don’t care. Come back to bed with me, Fallon.”
She groaned, the frustration clear, but she quickly flipped the heat off on the stove and turned in his arms. “You’re insatiable.”
Only for you, he thought, but couldn’t voice it. Instead, he captured her lips with his own and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled at his hair. The sharp pain at his scalp made him hiss and bite on her bottom lip. She gasped and leaned back, gazing into his eyes. Those amazing golden irises searched his own, her lips already red from the night before.
“But I get it.”