With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he dips two fingers into the caramel, then watches me as he drags them through my slick folds, spreading the thick, golden sugar over me with the precision of a man crafting a culinary masterpiece.

I shudder, under his touch, his control, his gaze as his tongue dives inside of me. His tongue drags through the chocolate and caramel, licking up every last drop before flicking against my clit, devouring me like I’m his final meal.

I cry out, my back arches off the blankets, my hands fly to his head, gripping, pulling, and grasping at nothing. But he doesn’t let up.

Vic groans, and I lose myself in him, rolling my hips into his mouth and riding the pleasure.

“That’s it,” he growls against me. “Keep going, Kerry. Make a mess on my face.”

And I do. I come hard and fast and all over him. My body shakes as I scream his name. My thighs tremble, but he holds me down and laps up every bit of my release.

When I finally collapse against the pillows—weak, limp, and trembling, Vic slowly moves back up my body, his lips brushing my ear as he whispers, “You’re the most delicious dessert I’ve ever tasted.”

Vic’s dick flexes painfully hard against my thigh while presses his lips against mine, letting me taste myself on his tongue.

He reaches for a soft cloth, dips it into warm water, and without a word, he cleans me off, drawing slow circles on my skin. He glides his finger over my stomach, my thighs, and my sensitive core. I watch him through my heavy, lidded eyes, barely able to keep them open as he presses a kiss to my wrist, then my lips.

Then, without hesitation, he lifts me into his arms. I gasp, wrapping my arms around his neck, feeling so small, so safe, and so completely his.

The firelight flickers as he carries me down the hall to the massive bedroom where he gently lowers me onto the bed.

“Are you ready to sleep?” He asks softly.

I should be. I’m exhausted, drained, and unable to take more. Yet, I still want more. I need more.

I shake my head. “No.”

He lifts his brow, waiting for me to continue. He needs me to tell him exactly what and who I want.

I swallow, my heart pounding as I hold his gaze, my hands skimming up his strong, tattooed arm.

“I’m ready,” I pant, my voice shaking with something deeper than just desire. “To feel everything. Give me everything, Victor Grimes.”

His breath shudders. His eyes darken. His body goes completely still. Unlike minutes ago, this isn’t playful anymore. It’s something else. Something deeper.

He trails his finger over my stomach, lower and lower, until he slides a hand between my thighs.

A low groan rumbles from his chest. “You stayed wet for me?”