After a staggered series of snooze buttons, she finally rolls over, sitting up into her knees. Scrambles out of bed with that typical urgency. Can't be late, not again. Quick wash in the bathroom, hair pinned back hastily, rushed skincare. Out to the kitchen.
Scent of cooking: something frying in a pan, light aroma of browning butter. She rounds the corner, and there he is. Pyjama shirt draping just so over his tapered frame, little tilt to his head as he adjusts the heat, quick flick of the wrist. Looks up at her, rubbing his hand in his shirt. The motion exposes a woefully fleeting glimpse of his carved abdomen.
"Hey, baby."
"Hey yourself. Um, I didn't think you'd still be here," she chuckles, bemused, half-asleep, a bit turned on -- all at the same time. Feels the cool kitchen air coating her bare legs: she only has panties on, down there, their pale lace obscured by her oversized jumper.
"Well, I am. Are you going out?" He's taken note of her half made-up appearance, the impatient bounce in her step.
"Um,
duh
? Kinda have to? I reckon I'll still beat the traffic--"
He just stands there, exhaling slowly. Smirks wide, dips his head. Says nothing.
"What?" she snaps. She hates when he does this.
"Babe."
"What is it?"
"Take a wild guess." Slightest shift of his eyes towards the fridge-mounted calendar. She checks it, blinks, checks again. Barely stops herself from slapping it to the ground.
It's a long weekend. No work. And here she was bracing for the usual Monday slog.
"Oh,
fuck
." Sudden rush of relief blended with exasperation. She crumples into her elbows on the counter. "Shut up. I know you're right, but still, shut up."
He laughs. "I thought I'd make you a little something in bed. I didn't count on you getting up."
She sees what he's got sizzling in the pan. Big, fat pancakes, perfectly browned, slipped off to the side onto a waiting plate by a practiced hand. Chopped neatly in a nearby bowl: a spread of berries, all her favourites. "Baby," she mumbles, "I do
not
deserve you."
"I like doing this type of thing."
"Treating me like some princess," she purrs, leaning back into the counter. Tries to ignore the buttery warmth seating itself in her panties, spreading into the fabric.
"Because you are one," he replies under his breath, almost to himself. Claps the pan down, whips around in one smooth motion and takes her by the tongue. One decisive, drawn-out kiss. She falls into his embrace, melts into his shoulders.
He makes a deft return to the stove so nothing burns.
She bites her lip, trots up behind him. Hands slithering around his waist, then drifting down, down. Softly clasping around something stiffening in his sweatpants.
He plays dumb. "So, do you wanna go get a proper sleep-in? I can bring everything to you."
"No, thank you...
daddy
," she whispers into the sloping muscle of his back. Smells like his bodywash: lemongrass cut with charcoal.
"Why not, angel?"
"Honestly?"
"I sure hope so."
"Because I'm really
horny
, now, daddy." She smiles to herself as she feels him jut against her dancing fingers with a new firmness.
Slight huskiness to his voice, coughs to cover it up. "Well, what should we do about that, angel?"
"Hmm. You're already being so sweet to me. I don't wanna ask too much of you..." she trails off, checking herself. She takes her hand off his length, brushing away. Hesitation.
He clicks off the stove, wipes his hands on a towel. Tents some foil over the stack of food to keep it warm.
He turns to face her, takes her by the hips, and, to her surprise, picks her up with heart-fluttering ease. Places her on the counter. He leans in, nibbles at her neck. "No, don't you worry. Breakfast can wait."
"Can it, daddy?" she murmurs, breathless.
"Of course it can, princess." His hand slithers up in between her knees, pries them open. Slow grind of his hungry fingers up her smooth thighs. She feels his knuckles catch on a fold of her jumper, obstructing his path. She lifts it for him.
"Good girl. Show off that pussy." He grazes the back of his hand against her clit, feather-light, tentative. She cups a hand over her mouth, embarrassed at how loud her first moan is.
"
Someone
