“I’ve got you, sweetheart.”
He does little more than brush his fingers up against her clit, but it’s enough to make her body tremble beneath him. He draws slow circles against her, amused by how she’s struggling to keep her volume under control. The knowledge that he’s able to reduce her to a babbling mess with just his finger makes him painfully hard. He grinds his cock against her ass, the friction he finds almost maddening. It’s close, but never enough. Eden writhes and whimpers and it’s enough to make him go insane.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs into her ear. “Love how you move against me.”
A moan rips from her throat as climax hits her, wave after wave of pleasure causing her muscles to spasm. Shang has to place a gentle hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. It’s for him and him alone. His teasing hand comes away wet with her arousal. He’s never been quite so proud to see such a mess.
“Your turn,” she mutters, turning over. Shang, for one, doesn’t complain in the slightest when she pulls the band of his underwear down to let his cock spring free.
Eden kisses him lazily as she wraps her fingers around his shaft, stroking at an easy firmness. Shang doesn’t mind the mild coldness of her hands or the hint of morning breath or the fact that they’re definitely making too much noise.
He’s in heaven. He supposes he’ll always be, so long as he’s with her.
Shang lets her take control, setting the pace. It’s maddening just how close he gets only for Eden to ease up at the last second. It’s wonderfully cruel. It leaves him wanting more, just within reach. She’s prolonging this, he realizes. The glint in her eye tells him that she’s having more than a little fun.
“Eden,” he rasps. His voice sounds foreign to his own ears. He sounds desperate.
“Relax,” she coos. “Relax, honey. I’ll help you.”
He gasps against her lips as she continues her loving strokes, the tension in the pit of his stomach growing tighter and tighter with every pass. “Fuck, I’m going to—”
“Come on. That’s it.”
Shang reaches down to come in his own hand, drunkenly kissing Eden like she’s ambrosia.
He’d gladly starve if it meant he could drink the taste of her lips forever.
He eventually slips out of bed, pulling on his shorts, to tiptoe down the hall to the bathroom to wash up. When he comes back, Eden’s curled up in bed—his bed—looking like something out of a dream. Shang crawls back under the covers, pulling her close.
If his heart was any happier, it’d burst.
* * *
“Someone’s in a good mood,” Xu Hong comments as she traipses into the kitchen.
Shang flips the bacon he’s working on, gesturing to the full French press on the kitchen island. “Help yourself. I can’t remember how you take your coffee.”
“Black is fine, thank you.”
“How do you want your eggs?”
His father chuckles as he wheels into the room. “Anything other than scrambled would be great,” he says. “Your mother can’t poach an egg to save a life.”
This earns a light slap across the back of his head, though Xu Hong’s fingers barely connect. “Hush.”
“Is Eden still asleep?”
Shang nods, moving over to pay attention to the Hollandaise—he’s made it from scratch, of course—warming over a double broiler. “She’s used to night shifts. I can go get her.”
“No, no,” Xu Hong says with a quick wave of her hand. “Let her sleep. We wanted the chance to talk to you, anyways.”
Shang grimaces. “About?”
“Nothing serious, don’t worry.”
He moves about the space, re-familiarizing himself with his childhood home. He spent countless hours here as a boy, learning to bake, learning to cook, watching with wide-eyed fascination whenever Uncle Charlie came over to whip up some new creation. This is the exact stove Shang caused his very first grease fire—it was promptly smothered out—at the tender age of eleven. This was where Shang would agonize over every ounce of flour, every tiny gram of salt needed for seasoning. He doesn’t remember when he got to the point where he could measure by eye and sound and taste. It just came to him, somewhere along the line, a skill picked up after hours upon hours of practice.
He places two dishes down, one in front of each of his parents. Breakfast today consists of eggs benedict over a fried piece of ham on a toasted English muffin, drizzled over with buttery Hollandaise sauce and a side of bacon, grated hash browns, and a pitcher of orange juice to wash it all down.
