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A bare-chested, impeccably chiseled Ashur, wearing only a pair of low-lying pajama pants leaned against the doorjamb, watching me with an intensity that made my already rapid heartbeat jump to an even faster rhythm.

“Don’t stop on my account. The cooking show is spectacular.”

“Ashur,” I gasped, pulling the spoon out of my mouth. “How long have you been there?

A smile tugged his lips. “Long enough.”

I felt the heat creeping up my body and setting like flames over my cheeks.

“Still love 90’s hip-hop, I see.”

He rose from his perch on the wall and walked toward me.

“What’s not to love? It’s fun and makes a girl want to dance.” I backed up as he advanced, and I found myself caged between the island and Ashur’s hard body.

He plucked the spoon from my hand and glanced at the bowls on the counter. “Were you making French toast for me?”

“Maybe.” I pressed my fingers to his chest, watching him warily.

He gazed into my eyes with a soft look and then said, “Thank you. Sam tries but she never could make it the way you did.”

“Want to do this with me? This way you can make it whenever the mood hits.” I tried to duck under his arm, but he crowded me against the counter.

“No. I’d rather do something else.” He lifted the spoon he held, dipped it in the container of hazelnut spread, and then ran it down the slope of my throat before dropping it back into the bowl.

“Like what?” I asked, feeling arousal pulse to life inside me.

His bent his neck and then licked along the path the chocolate coated my skin. I let out a moan and arched into his touch.

He lifted me onto the counter, pushing all the bowls and utensils to the other side of the island.

“Like have my breakfast.”

Ashur untied the belt holding my robe closed, pushing it off my shoulders and exposing my naked body underneath. The fabric pooled at my arms, but when I moved to free my hand, Ashur shook his head.

“Leave them right there.” A wicked gleam entered his gaze that made my pussy flood with desire. “Now flatten your palms. I don’t want you falling.”

“What are you going to do if I move?”

He reached over and grabbed the container of the hazelnut spread next to me.

“It’s simple. I won’t let you come.”

I lifted my chin. “I don’t need you to make me come.”

“Yes, you do, Tara.” His voice grew gruff and he brought his face a hairsbreadth from mine. “Your orgasms belong me and I won’t share. The only time your hand gets to pleasure your body is if I’m watching.”

His words had my core clenching as my nipples beaded to hard points.

“I see the idea appeals to you.” He pulled back and stirred the contents of the bowl with the spoon.

I licked my parched lips, focusing on the tented front of his pajama bottoms and said, “As it does for you.”

My breath was coming out in short pants, and goosebumps prickled my flesh. I felt the urge to slide off the counter, coat his cock in the spread, and blow his mind.

I jumped as a cool droplet of chocolate drizzled onto my shoulder, making my attention return to Ashur.

“You’re going to make me sticky.”