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Xander prowled in his kitchen, barefoot and bare-chested.

The luminous glow through the window kissed the ink on his back as he cracked eggs into a cast-iron skillet.

The scent of butter and herbs filled the room.

He tossed a pinch of smoked sea salt over the pan like he’d done it a thousand times before, for himself.

His keen hearing caught the whisper of feet as Savvine padded out of the bedroom.

He saw her in the window’s reflection and had to pause, heart tightening in his chest.

She wore nothing but one of his shirts, black, soft, oversized, draped over her like sin and sunlight.

Her legs were bare, hair messy from sleep and sex, her lips still swollen from when he kissed them as the sun came up.

‘You’re staring,’ she murmured, a smile tugging at her lips.

Xander turned, spatula in hand, walking toward her.

He hooked a hand around her waist, tugged her into him, and dropped a kiss to her forehead.

‘Wouldn’t you?’ he rasped, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, giving her a slow, deep lip lock that stole her breath and left her gripping his arms.

When he pulled back, she whispered, ‘What was that?’

He smirked. ‘Your appetizer.’

‘Can’t wait for the main course,’ she sighed, sliding to the breakfast nook, knees up, arms around them, eyes on him.

Back at the stove, he flipped a pancake with casual precision.

On another pan, protein bacon strips were crisped to perfection.

A stack of pillowy, golden pancakes rested beside a bowl of whipped honey cream.

Next, thin-cut fruit fanned over chilled stone, a scattering of berries, and a ramekin of cinnamon-dusted syrup so decadent it should’ve been illegal.

‘It looks amazing. You just might be the wolf of my dreams.’

He glanced over his shoulder. ‘You like?’

She wandered behind him, slid her arms around his waist, and rested her cheek against his back. ‘Of course, lover, but what I adore more is you cooking in nothing but a pair of sweats.’

He laughed, the rumble vibrating through her.

Turning, he handed her a piece of protein bacon, raised an eyebrow as she bit into it, and closed her eyes with a hum of approval.

He couldn’t help it; he leaned in and lowered his mouth to hers again, short and sweet, one hand at her hip, the other cradling her jaw.

She broke the kiss with a grin. ‘I could get used to this.’

‘You’re not the only one.’

They plated breakfast together, his hand brushing hers.

Their laughter was soft and stolen as they moved in sync.

He fed her bites of honey cream on warm pancake pieces.