It’s soft, feminine, sensual, everything I never allowed myself to be before. I’m excited yet feeling vulnerable, but I push through it because I know once Vic sees me, he’ll look at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

And I want to see that look. I want to see him.

When I enter the front room, I’m stunned. The entire living room has been transformed. The glow of the fireplace flickers across the room, casting golden light against plush blankets and pillows strewn across the floor, creating the perfect intimate escape. A bottle of champagne sits chilling in an ice bucket next to a tray of desserts so decadent, my mouth waters on sight.

As usual, he’s outdone himself with an array of milk chocolate-covered strawberries, miniature French pastries drizzled in caramel, and handmade truffles dusted with edible gold flakes. But the centerpiece is a bowl of fresh whipped cream, a pot of melted dark chocolate, and a small dish of sugared berries.

Before I can fully take it in, I hear a door click open, and when I turn, Vic steps out of the other bathroom. No shirt. Just inked, glistening skin. His pajama pants hang low, revealing just enough of his dick print to make my mouth go dry.

We both stop and drink each other in. His gaze darkens as he rakes his eyes over me, and when I open my mouth to speak, he crosses the room in three long strides and kisses me.

His hands grip my waist, pulling me flush against his body, his warmth branding me through the thin lace of my slip. His tongue sweeps against mine, savoring the taste of me.

When we finally pull away, we’re breathless, and as a means of distraction, I reach for the champagne and lift my glass with a smirk. “A toast to you, Chef Grimes.”

He raises his glass against mine, eyes locked on mine. “To us, Ms. Kind.”

We sip, never breaking eye contact, the bubbles tingling against my lips, then when he sits and pats his hand on his thigh, I climb onto his lap, straddling him as his hands instinctively fall to my hips.

“Comfy?” He asks, lips brushing my ear.

I hum, dragging a finger along the edge of his jaw. “I think so.”

His fingers flex against my waist, pulling me just a little closer as his thick erection continues to swell in between my legs.

The tray of desserts sits next to us, untouched, until he reaches for a gold-dusted chocolate truffle, rolling it between his fingers before bringing it to my lips.

“Open.” He whispers.

I obey without hesitation, my lips parting just enough for him to push it onto my tongue. I don’t chew it right away. I let it melt, savoring the rich chocolate before swallowing. Then, my lips brush his fingertips, licking the last trace of chocolate from his skin.