His muscles were pumped, the veins in his arms and neck defined from the force in which he was holding himself together.

“On your knees.”

I obeyed without question, my sensitive pussy pulsating at the chill in his voice, the erotic lilt of it.

The rug was soft enough against my knees, but even if it was the cold hardwood, I wouldn’t have complained.

“Taste yourself on me,” he demanded in a guttural voice.

He was holding the base of his cock, presenting it to me. It was glistening from… me.

I didn’t hesitate to take hold of him and put it in my mouth. Rowan was large, very large, so it was a tight fit, but he fit.

And he tasted of me. Of us.

My body tingled at that, at the power I had over this hulking man while I was on my knees.

I took him greedily, hungrily, running my tongue along his exquisite, hard length, reveling in the sounds of pleasure emitting from the man in front of me.

Rowan’s hands tangled in my hair, tugging at the strands then pulling me back so I looked up at him through my lashes.

“I’m about to come, baby,” he warned. “You don’t want me doing that in your mouth, you tell me now.”

I gripped him firmer, enough for him to let out a hiss of pleasure, then answered him by leaning forward and taking him back into my mouth.

“Fuck,” he roared, the gruff, gravel of his voice turning me on even more. His hand moved to the back of my head as he fucked my mouth.

His release unexpected, yet I swallowed everything he had, loving every second of it.

When he was done, I rocked back on my knees, wiping the side of my mouth and gazing up at him.

And what a sight he was. His muscles were glistening from the exertion of fucking me so hard and coming even harder, evidenced too by the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

But it was the look in his eyes that would’ve knocked me off my feet if I’d been standing on them.

Yes, his eyes were clouded with desire, drenched with erotic satisfaction. But there was something beyond that too. Something heavier and thicker than pure desire. There was reverence there.

I might have been the one on my knees, but he was the one worshiping me.

It was only a couple more seconds before I was no longer on my knees, no longer looking up at Rowan but in his arms.

“I’m far from fuckin’ done with you, cupcake,” he grated out, carrying me down the hall and up the stairs to my room.

“Not gonna rest until every inch of your skin is mine.”

And he spent the rest of the night doing that, even though every inch of my skin had belonged to him since the second my eyes landed on him walking into my bakery.