Expectation versus reality was a crazy thing. Even after the greatest oral sex she could have imagined in her non-existent scope of experience, she’d still expected Rixen to hammer away at her privates until she started reciting the alphabet to distract herself. Yeah. But no. He’d fucked her into another level of existence, instead.
Apparently, Morgan hadn’t been into dating all these years because she had a type. And that type was a big, hairy, possessive daddy. Unfortunately, Rixen was her kidnapper. She could not forget that. This little reprieve from real life could not last. She had college in the fall. A mother who was probably worried about her, despite their vast differences. Also, she couldn’t just ditch civilization for the bayou! For a man who thought she was an angel sent from on high.
As soon as she got a chance, she would make her move.
The moment the decision cemented itself in Morgan’s mind, she got an awful cramp in her belly. As if sensing her discomfort, Rixen shifted behind her in the bed, his face nuzzling into her hair. “You must be starved,” he rumbled, the deep resonance of his voice plucking harp strings inside of her. He scooted his huge furnace of a body close, rubbing his erection between the cheeks of her ass. Morgan opened her mouth with a silent moan. “I will feed you something small. We feast today so you’ll want to be hungry.”
“Feast?”
“Yes.” He trailed his open mouth along the curve of her shoulder. “I’m going to introduce you to my brothers and their wives. They live nearby and will cook for us. I sent them word last night that you’d arrived.”
“You…were awake last night?” She felt herself turn red. “Was I drooling?”
Rixen went up on an elbow. “Do you think there is a single thing you could do I wouldn’t find adorable, Morgan?”
Running for the hills, probably.
An awful twist took place in her stomach, but she smiled through it. “Only time will tell.”
Beneath the covers, the fingers of his free hand lingered low on her belly. “My gift. If you weren’t sore, you’d be face down for your daddy right now.”
Heat ripped through the tender muscles south of her belly button, making Morgan suck in a shaky breath. “You’re not supposed to say things like that with the lights on…are you?”
“I’m not sure you’re supposed to call me Daddy. But I like it.” He ran a finger along the valley of her hip. “Don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Although I haven’t called you that yet.”
“You will.” Gently, he sank his teeth into the nape of her neck. “You’ll scream it.”
Morgan was prepared to roll over and beg for more beast action, soreness be damned, but Rixen rose from the bed and dragged on a pair of ancient jeans, looking pretty smug as he strode from the room with an erection tenting his fly. “Rest now. I’ll call you when breakfast is ready.”
As Rixen sauntered from the room with the air of a man who’d just gotten hard-core laid, Morgan couldn’t help but smile at his back. The big fella’s confidence had tripled since last night. Words spoken in the darkness came back to her in a wave and her smile slipped. Why wouldn’t he be confident? She’d referred to herself as his mate. In the heat of the moment, she’d meant it, too. Even now, his possession lingered on her skin like a brand. But he wouldn’t really hold her to that, would he? Wasn’t it the general rule that words spoken at the height of passion didn’t roll over into the next day? Just like cell phone minutes.
You’re an idiot. Of course he took you seriously.
So now she didn’t merely have to escape a man who believed her to be his forever angel. She had to run away when he thought the feelings he already harbored for her were mutual. And they weren’t.
Were they?
“No,” Morgan stressed to herself and she scooted off the bed’s edge, turning in a haphazard circle looking for something to cover her nudity. Her clothes were in the bathroom, but she’d have to cross through the living room and kitchen space to get there. She felt sticky and in need of a shower—not sexy—so she grabbed a shirt out of Rixen’s bureau, laughing when it dropped down past her knees.
On the way out of the room, she stopped to scan his bookshelf. The Modern Kama Sutra. The Art of Cunnilingus. What Her Body is Telling You. “Talk about being prepared,” she murmured, running a finger along the spines. “It definitely paid off.”
What if another woman had gotten lost in this bayou before Morgan? Would she have received the benefits of What Her Body is Telling You? A spiky ball of jealousy refused to be swallowed as she stomped into the kitchen and threw herself into a kitchen chair.