“Sweet,” he murmurs.
I rise to my tiptoes, drawing his shoulders down so I can kiss him, tasting the powdered sugar on his lips. “So are you.”
“Not really. But you are sweet enough for the both of us.” His large hand comes to palm my breast. The lights flicker. For a second, I think it's a trick of my mind, another eclectic shock from Royal’s touch, but when I blink, the lights are still off. So’s the oven.
There’s a hum like a room of engines turning on, and the lights switch back on.
“The generators kicked in,” Royal says. “Up here, a tree falls on the lines during a deep freeze. We have power to last months.”
This house is so extra. A generator and two sets of Le Creuset? I could stay here forever.
Night has darkened the kitchen window. I can barely see beyond a few feet. “Still snowing,” I say.
“Yes, it's quite a blizzard. We might be stuck inside for several days.”
“What about the Rossis? Do you think they'll be okay?”
“I have men watching the shop. They’ll look after the Rossis. I’ll have them deliver food, water. A generator to make sure they have power.”
“Why do you have men watching the shop?”
“Protection. In case Stefanos’ remaining men make a move. It’s unlikely, but I’m taking no chances.”
I ponder this. “The men who helped clean up the broken glass. They’re ones you sent?”
He nods.
“Why are you doing this? Helping us, I mean.” It makes sense that he’d want to expand his territory, but all this work to protect a small bakery? Seems like a lot for the purpose of a one-night stand. But… what else could this be?
“I told you I’d fix it.” He shrugs with his hands in his pockets. “I’m fixing it. That’s what I do. I want to help you.”
“Why?”
“It's too soon to tell you that.” His beautiful mouth curves. “How about I show you instead?”
And that's how I find myself on my back on the grand dining room table. Royal sits in the fancy chair at the head of the table, looking like the lord of his realm. He’s still fully clothed, while I’m in nothing but his robe and my last remaining item of clothing—a flimsy bralette.
He pulls apart the robe I’m wearing. I get the feeling he likes seeing me in his clothes. He plays with my bralette, tugging it down under my breasts. His thumb hits my nipple and sensation detonates between my legs.
“We should watch the cookies,” I say softly, even though I don’t really care.
“You set a timer,” he mutters. With his thumbs, he spreads apart my pussy, staring boldly at it. “Let’s see how many times you can come before they’re done.”
That sounds like a great game.
It’s a little weird to be lying on my back on a dining room table, like I’m a meal to be eaten, but when Royal finishes kissing his way up my inner thighs, he gets down to eating my pussy. Feasting, really. Long swipes of his tongue intersperse with hungry nibbles on my pouty lower lips.
I come within a minute, but he doesn’t stop.
“Royal.” I squirm.
“Again.” He presses my legs apart. A jolt goes through me as he holds me down.
“Tell me when you’re close,” he orders.
“I’m close,” I gasp almost immediately. “I need?—”
He raises his head. His tongue leaves my clit and as soon as the pressure is gone, my building climax ebbs away. My whole pussy pulses.
