Page 35 of Make Me Yours (Chicago Railers Hockey #1)

STEELE

T he golden morning light spills in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long, drowsy shadows across the bedroom.

And her.

Lilah’s lying beside me, still tangled in the sheets, the sunlight bathing her bare skin. Her hair is a mess around her face, her cheeks flushed from sleep, her lashes resting against them like crescents.

She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I lie here, unmoving, afraid the slightest shift might wake her.

Not yet.

Because in this quiet, unguarded sliver of time, everything feels damn near perfect.

She’s here in my bed.

Wrapped in my sheets.

Just like I’ve always dreamed.

And for as long as she’s here, this is exactly the way I want her.

Every morning.

I drag in a breath and let those thoughts settle deep in my chest. It doesn’t do anything to steady the ache I’ve been carrying around for years. Even though she said yes last night, I know she sees this as temporary.

A placeholder for something else.

Someone else .

But that’s not what I am.

I want to be her everything.

All right, so maybe that’s exactly what I told her. That we could keep this casual. That we could draw lines and stay on the right side of them.

But I lied.

After what happened between us, there’s no way I can ever go back to being just her friend.

Not after tasting her skin and hearing the way she moaned my name.

We didn’t have sex last night, even though I’d wanted to.

So fucking badly.

But I didn’t.

Because I want to draw this out.

I want to take my time and make her fall in love with me in ways that leave no room for doubt. I want to show her how it can feel when someone touches her with reverence.

Worships her.

Loves her.

And I do.

So much it hurts.

I shift closer, careful not to wake her as I drag the sheet down just enough to bare her breasts. My gaze sweeps over the curves of her body, the way her chest rises and falls with each steady breath.

My mouth waters.

I lean down and brush my lips over the swell, savoring the softness of her skin. When she shifts beneath me, I take her nipple into my mouth and suck gently. Her body arches in response, and a moan tumbles from her lips. The sound is sweet music to my ears.

I swirl my tongue around the sensitive peak as her fingers thread through my hair.

“Steele…”

I lift my head just enough to look at her. “Morning, lucky charm.”

Her eyes flutter open. “That’s certainly one way to wake up.”

With a grin, I brush my knuckles down her side. “Just trying to set the tone for the day.”

Still smiling, she stretches, her body pressing against mine in a way that has every part of me straining toward her.

“I think I’m gonna like this arrangement,” she murmurs.

I press a kiss to her collarbone, my lips lingering, allowing the moment to draw out.

“You’re not the only one.”

If I have it my way, she’ll be waking up like this every morning with my mouth on her skin and my heart in her hands.

She stretches again, and her palm drifts between us, brushing against my abs before slipping lower.

When her fingers wrap around me, I groan. She strokes me once, the movement slow and sweet. My hips jerk at her touch.

“Are you trying to kill me?” I rasp, smacking a kiss to her lips before rolling out of bed, leaving her blinking.

“Wait. What are you doing?” she asks, pushing up onto her elbows, her hair wild and her voice still husky with sleep. “I thought…” Her cheeks flush as the sentence trails off.

That we’d have sex.

It’s written all over her face.

And damn, if that doesn’t make me smile.

“I was gonna make us breakfast,” I say, tugging on a pair of gray sweatpants.

“Now?” she huffs, clearly annoyed to be left high and dry .

I hide my grin and head for the door. “What’s wrong? You said you liked this arrangement. Is there a better way to wake up than having your titties sucked? Plus, I’m going to feed you. I think you’re really making out here.”

“Steele.”

“Join me in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

She groans into the pillows as I leave, and I can’t stop the quiet laugh that breaks loose from me.

Such an impatient little thing.

She has no idea how difficult it was to walk away.

I adjust my hard-on and make my way to the kitchen before pulling out all the necessary ingredients for blueberry pancakes.

They’re her favorite. The kind she used to make after late study nights in college when she needed comfort food.

Back then, she’d dance around her tiny apartment barefoot, hair in a knot on her head, singing off-key to old Taylor Swift songs.

I was in love with her even then.

The batter’s just about done when footsteps pad across the hardwood.

When I glance up, the whisk in my hand stalls.

She’s wearing one of my old, faded T-shirts—the hem barely brushing the tops of her thighs—and pink fuzzy socks are pulled halfway up her calves. Her hair is still a mess, and her lips are still pink from sleep.

She looks…

Downright edible.

Something catches inside me as she pushes onto the counter and settles there. Her legs part just enough for me to catch a glimpse of her bare pussy.

There are no panties in sight.

Jesus.

I grit my teeth and flip the first pancake as steam rises from the griddle .

“It smells good,” she says, swinging her legs lazily.

It takes all of my self-control to focus on the task at hand. I slide a finished stack onto a plate and bring it to her, setting it beside her hip before picking up the fork.

She raises a brow. “You’re feeding me now?”

“Uh-huh.” I spear a bite and hold it to her mouth. “Open up.”

With her gaze locked on mine, she does exactly as I ask, and her lips close around the fork with a satisfied hum.

“Damn,” she murmurs. “That’s good.”

I feed her another bite, watching her chew as my gaze drops back to her bare thighs. Her shirt rides higher when she shifts, spreading her legs a little wider.

Heat sears through my bloodstream.

I don’t know how much longer I can take this.

“Not hungry?” she asks, licking a drop of syrup from her thumb.

I set the fork down. “I’ll eat as soon as I’m done feeding you.”

The moment she finishes the last bite, I slide the plate into the sink and turn back.

Her eyes are wide as I step between her thighs.

“Now I’m ready to eat breakfast,” I murmur. My hands wrap around the backs of her knees as I drag her closer to the edge of the counter.

She breathes my name, hands bracing behind her, knuckles white against the marble.

“Now, be a good girl for me and take off your shirt.”

Without hesitation, she lifts the fabric over her head, revealing inch after inch of creamy skin until she’s bare again, glowing in the morning light like a fantasy I’ve conjured into reality.

I trace my fingers down her sides until they settle at her hips. Then I reach around her to grab the bottle of maple syrup from the counter.

Her brows lift slightly. “Steele…”

“Pretty sure everything tastes better with syrup,” I say with a smirk.

Her breath catches as I drizzle a line over the swell of one breast. It glistens as it trails down her skin. I dip my head and kiss her lips once before moving lower to chase the sticky sweetness with my tongue.

I lap at her, savoring the way her body trembles beneath my mouth. Then I suck her nipple between my lips. With a whimper, she arches into me.

Her fingers twist in my hair as I dust kisses across her chest, worshipping every curve. “Makes me wonder what else I could lick off your body,” I whisper against her skin.

That question earns me another thick shiver.

I spread her thighs wider as I drop to my knees like a man devoted, my gaze locked on hers the entire time. “Now this,” I murmur, pressing my lips to her inner thigh, “is exactly what I woke up craving.”

I kiss her again, this time lower, tasting her sweet heat. Her gasp echoes in the kitchen as my tongue flicks her clit before sweeping along her center, collecting every drop of honey.

I take my time, stroking her with slow, teasing licks, sliding my tongue inside her softness and groaning when she spreads her legs even wider, giving me more room to maneuver.

Her thighs tremble, her breath comes in ragged bursts, and all I want is to keep her on this edge, floating and open and mine.

Touching her like this, playing with her like this, is everything I’ve ever wanted.

If I keeled over tomorrow, I would die a happy man now that I’ve had my face pressed against her pussy, tonguing her sweetness, slipping inside her core .

It doesn’t take long before her body tightens, her fingers tunneling in my hair as she grinds against my mouth.

“Steele,” she groans, my name sounding like a broken prayer.

“That’s it, baby,” I whisper between strokes. “I want to watch you fall apart on my tongue.”

When she comes, it’s with a cry that echoes off the walls. Her whole body trembles, and I hold her through it, hands firm on her thighs, mouth claiming every single shiver.

It’s only after the last shudder rolls through her that I rise and brush a kiss against her swollen lips before scooping her into my arms and carrying her back to the bedroom.