Lark’s eyes roam over my body, settling on my dick for a few extra seconds before challenging me when she locks onto my gaze. She asks, “Hard day?”

“Getting harder by the second.” I grab her by the ankles and pull her to me. Hovering over her, I kiss her lips and tease her nipples before stripping my dress shirt and pants from my body. Seems only fair to finish and get fully naked like she is, so I do.

“Do you have dinner plans?” She bites her lower lip.

I rub the inside of her thighs and then drop to my knees, kissing them and spreading her legs apart. I kiss the soft skin and head higher, draping her legs over my shoulders. I run the tip of my nose along the bend of her leg and then inhale, closing my eyes.

She’s intoxicating, but our physical connection will never match the depth of the love I feel for her. I can survive anything knowing she’ll be waiting for me on the other side. She’s wholly captivated my soul, but she’s also squirming for attention, so I reply, “I do. I have plans for you, Dr. Summerlin.”

Dipping down, I make love to her with my mouth and then to her body, staring into those gorgeous green eyes of hers until neither of us can keep them open. Our releases hit hard, and we fall apart in each other’s arms.

Not forty-five minutes later, she moans in pleasure . . . beside me as she takes another bite of the blueberry pancakes we ordered. She reaches for a cup of orange juice and takes a sip as soon as she swallows her food. “I realized today,” she starts, “that I don’t exercise anymore.”

Chuckling, I say, “You get enough at home.”

“And I’m on my feet all day at work.” She takes a breath and leans back against the wall, wrapping one arm over her stomach. After setting the OJ down, she laughs lightly. “This is my love language right here. Feeding me carbs with a big helping of you, babe.”

She’s adorable.

After dragging her food through the syrup at the bottom of the tray, she then eats it. “Why does breakfast in bed make everything taste so much better?”

I finish my bacon and start back on my scrambled eggs. “Maybe it’s the company and not the food.”

“The company is pretty delicious.” Leaning over, she kisses my shoulder.

I’m tempted to kiss her syrupy lips. I’m craving her—all of her—again, but I resist even though she’s looking at me like she might prefer I have her for dessert. The woman’s insatiable.

Orange juice.

Food.

Syrupy fingers . . . mmm.

Fuck. That doesn’t help take my mind off my dick and how delectable she looks next to me. But then she asks, “You know what I could go for?”

Fuck it. Who am I trying to impress? I can’t resist her. I kiss her until the containers are forgotten and fall off the bed. I kiss her hard and then fuck her until she only remembers my name.