Now that I was basically healed—apart from a few aches and pains—I was aware of how sexually frustrated I was. Well, I’d been aware of it for days since I was living in the same house as a sex god and unable to act on my feelings for aforementioned sex god.

“How long does it bake for?” Rowan asked, wiping his hands on the kitchen towel.

“About fifteen minutes.” I jumped off the barstool. “Which isn’t enough time, but it should do.”

His forehead puckered in confusion. “Enough time for what?”

“For you to fuck me.” I rounded the kitchen island. The fact that I was comfortable enough to be so brazen with Rowan was a testament to how much I’d grown in the short time we’d been together. Still, heat crept up my throat.

I saw it flash over his face, the naked hunger. The need. Rowan had been in alpha caretaking mode, but I’d still seen his desire when he showered me, when his hands lingered over my breasts long after the soap had been rinsed from them.

And yes, the way his cock got hard whenever he washed me.

But now that hunger lasted only a moment. “No fuckin’ way.”

“I’m better,” I told him, trying to sound sultry.

The determination in his expression didn’t falter, unfortunately.

Not to be discouraged, I stalked toward him. He retreated.

“Nora,” he warned.

I found myself excited by this reversal of roles. It was not often I got to back my broad-chested, dominant man into a wall. Actually, I’d never backed him into a wall. Which was what hit his strong back when he kept retreating.

“I’m better,” I repeated, laying my hands flat on his broad chest so I could go up on my tiptoes and hover close to his lips.

His body tensed even further, but I knew this time it was not from the frustration of me coming onto him, it was from him battling against his hunger for me and the need he had to take care of me.

“Nora, you are not fuckin’ better,” he ground out.

I narrowed my eyes at him and dug my nails into the fabric of his tee until they pressed into his skin.

He let out a hiss that I knew was not from discomfort.

“I am the judge of whether or not I’m better,” I informed him. “And I am. Even though you’re still being ultra-protective and over the top and refusing to see it, I’m better. Therefore, I’m better enough for my man to carry me upstairs and let me thank him for what he created for me.”

Rowan’s mouth flattened into a grim line. “There is no scorecard here, Nora. I do things for you because it makes me happy. Not because I’m expecting anything from you.”

I wanted to roll my eyes, but he was being far too serious for that. So, I cupped his cheek instead. “I know,” I told him solemnly. “I’m going to suck your cock because I want to.”