Assumption (Underground Kings #1)
Page 36“I really want to f**king taste you, but no way can I do that yet.” His jaw locks and a look of desperation fills his eyes. “My control is slipping, so I need you to come for me.”
I don’t understand what’s wrong, but as if he spoke directly to my body, I come on a cry, my head falling back and my eyes closing. The pull from below my belly button expands and explodes through my body. When the feeling subsides, I lift my head, still trying to catch my breath.
“Fucking exquisite,” he whispers, his eyes meeting mine, his fingers still lazily stroking between my legs.
I bite my lip, wondering what to do. I have never experienced anything like that before, and it’s been years since I’ve had sex. I feel completely out of my league and overwhelmed.
“Don’t,” he states firmly, making my eyes travel back to him. “Do not leave me here. Not right now.” His hands leave me as he crawls up my body, cocooning around me.
I clear my throat and shake my head. “I wasn’t. I mean…I just don’t know what I’m doing, so I feel—”
“Overwhelmed,” he states, running his nose along mine. “That’s why I didn’t do all the things I really want to do to you. I could see it in your eyes that you were unsure.” He kisses my forehead and rolls to his side, pulling me with him. “How long has it been?” he asks softly, gliding his fingers down my spine then back up again.
“A little over ten years.” I close my eyes in embarrassment and only open them when I realize that not only is his body tense, but he doesn’t seem to be breathing. “Are you okay?” I get up on my elbow so I can look at his face.
“Fuck,” he mutters as his eyes open. “How the hell have you kept yourself away from men for the last ten years?”
“Until me.”
I hear the smugness in his voice and my eyes go back to him, narrowing when I see the smirk on his face. “My tastes could always change.”
“They won’t,” he says confidently.
“They might,” I huff, and his smirk turns into a full smile as he rolls on top of me.
“They won’t,” he repeats, this time kissing me silent.
“We’re not going out,” Kenton says as soon as I walk around the corner into the kitchen.
He’s wearing a dark-burgundy button-down shirt that looks like it’s custom-made for him. With the top button released, the shirt is tucked into a pair of black slacks that hug his thighs and show off his lean waist. I don’t know how it’s possible for him to look just as hot dressed up as he does in jeans. Seeing him like this has me craving to see him in a suit.
His eyes do a head-to-toe sweep, and I stumble slightly when our eyes lock. The look in his eyes is so dark and hungry that I can’t even take a breath. After he kissed me quiet earlier, he got out of bed and got dressed, telling me that he had some stuff to do, but we had a date and to make sure I was ready. I nodded, unable to talk, and watched as he left the room.
“You’re really testing my self-control.” Kenton’s rough voice brings me back to the present—along with his hands, which have found their way to my waist. “But then, if I don’t take you out, I can’t show you off.” One hand slowly slides up my waist to the bow that is holding my dress together. “You’re like a dessert I get to unwrap and eat at the end of the night.” His fingers wrap around the loose length of the ribbon, giving it a gentle tug. “Let’s go before I say f**k it and unwrap you here in the kitchen and take you on the counter.”
I’m not opposed to skipping dinner and being dessert now. After what happened earlier, I know I won’t put off being with him.
He smiles like he read my mind and shakes his head. “Dinner, then dessert.”
My pu**y contracts and I bite my lip to stop from moaning. He leans forward, his finger going to my chin, pulling my lip out from between my teeth, kissing me softly.
“I wouldn’t mind skipping dinner,” I tell him when his mouth leaves mine.
He laughs, shaking his head and taking my hand. “We’re both gonna need our strength.” He walks us out to his car, opening the passenger’s side door for me before shutting it and jogging around the car to slide behind the wheel. As soon as we make it down the driveway, his hand interlocks with mine on my lap.
“So, where are we going?” I ask once I find my voice again.
“An Italian place a couple of towns over. They have the best eggplant parmesan I’ve ever eaten in my life.”
“I know.” He smiles, squeezing my fingers.
“How do you know?”
“All those frozen dinners you bought are Italian.” He laughs, making me smile and my cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
“I’m not good at cooking.” I shake my head and look out the window.
“I can teach you how to cook,” he says softly, squeezing my hand.
“I would like that.” I’ve always wanted to learn how to cook, but every time I’ve tried, it’s been a disaster, so I’ve given up.
We talk the rest of the way to the restaurant about his favorite things to cook and how he learned. I knew that his aunt Viv and uncle own the diner I had gone to the first time I met Viv, but I didn’t know that he used to work there during the summers when he was younger.
When we arrive at the restaurant, he finds parking along the busy street and leads me inside. The interior is dim, with mood lighting that makes the space feel much more intimate. The tables are covered in white linen cloths with a single tea light candle in the center of each. The host leads us to a small table in the back of the restaurant, but when he begins to pull out my chair, Kenton stops him, taking the chair and holding it for me until I take a seat. He then takes his own seat across from me.