She seemed nervous, like ordering food was taking liberties or something. I put my thumb to her mouth and pulled her lip from between her teeth. “You never have to ask permission. Okay? Not unless I’m fucking you—then you always ask permission.”

Her eyes got big, but she didn’t breathe a word. I left her then, staring after me curiously. I was still hard but knew that if I stayed in that bed a second longer, I’d be inside her in no time. Everything about her was made to be fucked, pleasured, worshipped.

So yeah, I needed a minute.

I saw Patricia’s form retreating out the door just as I entered the lounge. It was a good thing, too, because all I had on was a pair of boxers, and I was still sporting some serious wood. I didn’t want to give her an eyeful. She’d left a cart of food by the table. Every item you could possibly wish for first thing in the morning seemed to be provided. I wheeled the cart into the bedroom, where Annie was still lying on the bed, a flush to her cheeks that told me she was still thinking about what I’d said to her.

Did the idea of asking permission during sex appeal to her?

God, I hoped so.

“Tea or coffee?” I asked in a cheerful voice that made her giggle, but I noted she was careful to stifle it.

“Are you my manservant this morning?”

“If that’s what floats your boat,” I replied, grinning. “So, what does the lady desire? Toast? Eggs? Sausage?”

On the last option, her eyes inadvertently wandered to my crotch, and I knew I had her. Come hell or high water, neither one of us was leaving this suite today, and I planned on playing dirty.

I let out a bark of laughter and winked. “Sausage it is then, you naughty little thing.”

“You’re so, so….” she began but couldn’t seem to find the word.

“Dashingly handsome? I know, it’s such a burden.”

She scowled at me playfully, crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned back against the headboard. “I was going to say big-headed.”

“Well, that’s also true.” I waggled my eyebrows at her. Seriously, there was no way she was going to win with me today. I poured her some tea, set it on the dresser beside her, then filled a plate with sausage and eggs. She brought the teacup to her mouth, taking a sip as she watched me climb onto the bed with the plate in hand. Yes, I was going there, and there was nothing she could do to stop me.

“Um, I can come over; you don’t have to….”

Silencing her with a look, up on my knees I straddled her thighs and sat, digging the fork into a piece of sausage and bringing it to her mouth. Her eyes traveled from the fork to the sausage to me in blatant disbelief. She seemed to have a moment of indecision before she finally leaned forward to take a bite.

Playfully, I withdrew the fork. “First, take the T-shirt off.”

I saw her throat bob as she swallowed. “I don’t see why that’s necessary.”

“You don’t make the rules. Take it off.”

“Ronan....”

I put the plate down, braced my hands firmly on either side of her head, and bent down so my mouth was a whisper away from hers. “Take. It. Off.”

Her lip quivered, and I saw the surrender in her eyes when her hands went to the hem of the T-shirt and lifted. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy her defiance. I liked a little bit of a fight before the inevitable surrender. And if Annie’s expression was anything to go by, she was enjoying this just as much as I was. Her pupils were dilated as fuck.

The shirt was gone a moment later, her peachy pale skin and lush breasts hugged perfectly by the black lacy bra she was wearing. I picked the plate back up and lifted the fork to her mouth again. This time I let her have the sausage. I didn’t even really know where all this had come from, but I did know that I derived a strange sort of pleasure from watching her eat. I guessed it made sense when I thought about it. I was a kinky fucker, simple as that.

I watched her chew and swallow with the same amount of rapt attention I’d give to her hand between her legs bringing herself to orgasm for me.

With the plate between us on the bed, I continued to feed her with one hand while the other traced the curve of her breasts. I could see through the thin fabric of her bra that her nipples were rock hard, and when I pinched one, it elicited a strangled sound of pleasure from deep in her throat.

“You are pure pornography, Annie Catrel,” I said, my voice low and husky. “Do you know that? Do you know how much every single thing you do tortures me?”

“Oh, God,” she moaned.

Moving the plate aside, I ran my knuckles down her stomach until I reached the hem of her underwear. The material was light and flimsy, and she sighed when I began rolling it down her thighs. She wanted this, too. This was my first time seeing her properly, stark sunlight streaming through the windows, and she was absolutely exquisite. I had to take a steadying breath in order to continue.

She grew rigid as I moved my body down the bed so my face was between her legs. I rubbed the inside of her thigh tenderly.

“Relax,” I whispered, bringing my mouth to her wetness, and then licked.

“Ahhh,” she cried out, clutching a handful of my hair. I chuckled and went at her in earnest. She was so soft and silky beneath my tongue. I met her gaze from below and came up for air, ordering, “Bra off.”

She didn’t even hesitate this time, reaching around to undo the clasp and revealing her perfectly full breasts tipped with tight, pink nipples to my greedy eyes. I saw her fist the sheets in her hands, her hips rising up off the bed when I sucked her clit into my mouth and flicked it with my tongue. I added some fingers to the equation, savoring the hot, tight feel of her.