Page 195 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 2

My pulse hammered. “Syx?—”

“Tell me you don’t want this.” His other hand cupped the back of my neck, his thumb stroking the bruises Amai had left. “Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll walk away right now.”

I couldn’t.

Because I did want him.

I wanted him in a way that terrified me—raw and real and completely outside the carefully constructed walls I’d built around myself.

“I want you,” I whispered.

His smile was slow and devastating. “Then let me feed you first.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You haven’t eaten.” He released me and moved to the fridge, pulling out ingredients. “And I’m not taking you back upstairs until you’ve got some food in you.”

I watched, stunned, as he moved around the kitchen with easy confidence—pulling out a pot, filling it with water, and setting it on the stove.

“What are you making?”

“Noodles with smoked sausage, shrimp, eggs, and green onion.” He glanced at me over his shoulder. “My mama used to make it when I was a kid. Comfort food.”

Something in my chest shifted.

This—this domesticity mixed with the sexual tension still crackling between us—felt more intimate than anything we’d done upstairs.

I sat on one of the bar stools and watched him work.

He moved with the same confidence he brought to everything else—chopping the sausage, peeling the shrimp, cracking eggs into a bowl. His hands were strong and sure, andI found myself mesmerized by the way his muscles flexed under his shirt.

“You’re staring,” he said without looking up.

“You’re worth staring at.”

He grinned. “Keep talking like that, and we’re not making it through dinner.”

“Who says I want to make it through dinner?”

He looked up then, his eyes dark and heated. “Patience, Yaya. I’m trying to take care of you.”

“Why?”

The question hung in the air between us.

He set down the knife and crossed to me, his hands framing my face.

“Because no one else does,” he said simply. “Because you’ve spent years in a marriage where you’re an afterthought. Because Amai treats you like a burden instead of a gift. Because you deserve someone who sees you.”

My throat tightened. “Syx?—”

“I see you,” he continued, his voice fierce. “I see how smart you are. How strong. How fucking beautiful. I see the way you hold yourself together even when everything’s falling apart. And I want to be the man who makes you feel like you don’t have to hold it together all the time.”

Tears burned behind my eyes. “This is dangerous.”

“I know.”

“If Amai finds out?—”