Page 67 of Grasp The Moment

He lets out an amused chuckle from behind me, “I told you you’d know…”

“Cocky much?” I tease back as he squeezes me a bit tighter to him.

“I don’t know, you tell me. You were the one screaming?—”

Gasping loud and dramatically, I twist in his arms and cover his mouth.

“Who knew that sex would make you such a cocky asshole?”

He grins under my hand, licking it. “I thinkyoudid.”

Rolling my eyes, I twist back around, allowing him to spoon me. We lie in contemptuous silence for a bit. I’m on the verge of falling back asleep in his arms when he kisses the back of my head.

Derek pries himself from me, slowly getting out of the bed. “Get some more rest, I’ll get breakfast started up.”

And so I do. I sleep like the fucking dead, which only lasts for about thirty minutes, seeing as he returns to bed with a tray full of pancakes and sausage.

“M’lady.” He bows, placing the food in front of me on a tray.

Giggling, I allow him to set the food up for me, swirling whipped cream and syrup on my stack of pancakes.

A few minutes later, Derek slides next to me, his own food ready to be devoured. We sit in a comfortable silence, watching reruns ofGolden Girlsas we eat breakfast.

When I feel his eyes on me, I smile to myself.

“It’s impolite to stare,” I say, looking everywhere but his piercing eyes as he breaks out a mouthwatering grin.

“You got a little…” He reaches out to swipe something off my lip with his thumb before pausing a mere inch from my lips. He hesitates, licking his own lips before something comes over him.

I raise a brow as he leans in close, taking my lips in a tantalizing kiss. He circles my tongue with his own, giving me pleasure in ways I hadn’t known kissing could. I hum as the kiss grows sloppy. He sucks and bites my bottom lip, his hand cupping my jaw before he lifts it a bit, moving the kiss down my neck.

I’m a mess, writhing under him as he sucks and kisses my neck with an unearthly hunger. When Derek pulls back, I’m on the edge.

“Got it…”

“I got it! I got it, Papá!” Delilah exclaims with a pout as Derek chuckles, clearly happy to be rage-baiting his four-year-old daughter.

“Let me do it, Sunshine. I don’t want you to make a mess in your new outfit,” he says, a sly smirk on his face as she huffs, turning to me.

I roll my lips in, hiding my smile as Delilah stomps her feet my way and plants herself in my lap.

“He’s not being very nice. Maybe if you kiss him, he’ll be nicer,” she says with a small whine as my brows raise to my hairline.

“And who told you that kissing someone makes them feel better?”

Delilah ponders the question for a moment before shrugging. “Uncle Cupid!”

Nodding, I chuckle. “Of course, he did…”

After Derek and I had breakfast a few days ago, it turned into an all-out ravishing of one another. We “christened” everyroom that we could, giving ourselves to one another before Delilah got home yesterday.

Now, we’re having a small tea party before dinner tonight with his mom. Considering how our first dinner with his mother went, I guess it's safe to assume that she doesn’t really like me. Though I have no idea why—I’m a great wife. Sure, I don’t cook, have a fiery personality, and can barely keep it togethermostdays. But those factors don’t mean that I can’t help run a home successfully. I mean, look at Delilah.

My eyes wander to the four-year-old in the living room, play-fighting with Agnes, who’s been jumping all over her. The two of them are barking at one another and having a blast—until Delilah decides that Agnes will also be joining our tea party and now must be in proper attire for the event.

I roll my lips in to suppress a laugh as Agnes lets out an annoyed yip, begrudgingly allowing her to put a tutu on her. Delilah dresses Agnes in a yellow tutu to match her own and giggles when the puppy huffs, plopping down next to her. I continue to sketch what's been on my mind the past few days as Derek makes our tea for us.

I feel warm and content with all of us like this, but a piece of me knows that this won’t last. Maybe it’s my mind playing tricks on me because of the past year that I’ve had, or maybe it’s the truth. But if there’s one thing that I do know—I won’t let this feeling slip away.