“Watch me, Rook,” I command. She opens her eyes but she only manages half-mast.

My plan was to make her come without touching her. I’ve done it before, but my tongue is far too eager to taste her newly smooth skin. She knows I’m about to cave and she wiggles a little, one foot dropping down to rest on my thigh, the other propped up on my shoulder like an invitation that I am powerless to refuse. I slide a finger inside her and pump with the same rhythm I’m using on myself. Her whole body tenses up, her back in a severe arch and her head pressing back against the tiled wall. I sink my tongue into her folds, flick against her clit, and we explode together—our moans echoing off the tiled bathroom walls.

We sit still for a few moments to enjoy the aftershocks, but then I get to my feet and pull her up with me. “OK, I think we’re ready to get started.”

She laughs as I lead her out into the bathroom, shut off the shower, and then grab a fluffy white towel and pat her down. I towel myself down a little as well, and then lead her back into the bedroom. “Lie down for me.”

She obeys, taking herself over to the king-size bed we share. Everything in this room is white except for the furniture and the floors. Those are both a dark mahogany wood. The soft flicker of candlelight makes her look like a goddess as she lies there, complacent and happy, wet and pink with the heat of the shower and her desire. I stand next to the bed and grab a cherry, then straddle her legs and lean down to touch the cherry to her lips. “Bite, please,” I ask softly.

These cherries came straight from the fruit basket on Antoine’s desk this morning. And even though it’s a little late in the year for cherries, they are soft and plump because all the fruit that comes in a basket to Chaput Studios is succulent and sweet and perfect. Just like my Rook. Her teeth sink into the flesh and she pulls back, chewing.

I take the other half and bite out the pit, whoof it into the waste basket near the nightstand, and then paint the juice around her mouth. “I told you, back when we did that first photoshoot, that if I had you naked with cherries, I’d drip it all down your belly and lick it off.”

Her seductive smile lets me know she’s remembering our first erotic shoot together.

“But before I do that…” I eat this cherry, then grab another one and put it up to her mouth. She bites, again leaving the pit for me. I whoof it and drag the fruit around the rosy areola in the center of her breast, making her nipple bunch up tight from the cold. The cherry turns her pale skin a deep red and I almost want to explode, that’s how hard this makes me. “I’m gonna do this.” My mouth covers her nipple and I lick the juice, then squeeze more, and lick it again. I do it all again on her other breast and when I’m finally ready to start on her belly, she’s all stained up with red juice.

I move down her abdomen, kissing her gently as I go, dragging my scratchy face along her sensitive skin, and then grab a whole handful of cherries and place them on the pristine white sheets next to me. It’s gonna stain the f**k out of them, but that’s the price you pay when you wanna have fun with fruit.

I bite and drip, bite and drip, then do it several more times until the little concave dip of her stomach is holding a pool of sweet nectar and her adorable belly button is overflowing. I push a fingertip into the liquid and drag it down towards her slit, stopping to let the juice collect in her folds. I repeat this until the red is diluted pink with her own wetness.

And then my tongue takes over. I eat her out like I’m starving for her sweetness, like I didn’t just take her in the bathroom twenty minutes ago, like this is my last chance to ever pleasure a woman between her legs with my mouth.

She moans, she whines, she whimpers. Her whole back buckles up, cherry juice drips down her body, dirty words are coming out of her mouth, and she starts fighting to get her chance to show me what her mouth can do to pleasure me back.

But I don’t let her up. I keep her there, at my mercy, holding her down and begging for more.

I blow her f**king mind with my tongue and fingers. I make her whimper and moan, squeal and fight when it gets too intense.

And then I f**k the shit out of her until we are exhausted and the hazy light of predawn is seeping through the blinds.

Chapter Twenty-three - RONIN

I wish I could say we enjoyed all the hundreds of things there are to do in Colorado on Saturday. Like went up to the mountains and marveled at the fluttering golden wave created by the thousands upon thousands of aspen trees that line the cliffs. Or took advantage of an early mountain snowstorm and went skiing up at A-Basin. Or hell, stayed in town and caught an Aves game.

But we did none of those things. Because we never got out of bed.

She’s still f**king trying to sleep right now and it’s almost eleven on Sunday. “Gidget,” I whisper into her ear. She swats me away with her hand, slapping my arm pretty good. “Gidge, we’re putting clothes on today, babe. Like it or not, we’re leaving the house.”

“To go where?” she moans.

“The mall. Elise wants us to go baby shopping with her.”

Rook grunts. “She does not. That’s dumb, why would she want us to tag along?”

Damn, she’s sorta cynical. And she’s totally on to me because Antoine begged me to come with him so he and I can nurse some beers and watch the Broncos annihilate the Eagles while the girls shop. But I’m pretty good at faking shit, so I try it out on Rook now. “Serious, she says she wants my opinion, she knows I’m all into this baby shit. And you need some girl time, you have no girlfriends.”