Page 66 of The Alpha and the Baker

Maybe one day I would be old and tired enough to turn down sex with my incredibly hot boyfriend, but that was not today. I could save that for my thirties, when my back and knees go on strike, like it did with pretty much all culinary folk.

“Take me home,” I said, voice already husky.

“With pleasure.”

I wasn’t exactly heavy, sitting right between being slender and plus-sized, but it still amazed me that Cas just took off with me in his arms like a bride, his stride so sure that I was barely even jostled. Jeez, just how strong was he? Even after so much time together, it always surprised me.

We made it to his cabin incredibly fast, and while I knew that several pack members had spotted us, no one stopped us. I’d heard a couple mention in passing about being able to smell other people’s emotions, so my cheeks colored at the idea of how many shifters could smell how horny we were.

Oh well. It was something I’d come to terms with whenever we visited Cas’s house. With such enhanced senses, privacy was rare. People heard what they heard, and that was that.

If I had also grown up with such abilities, it wouldn’t be so mind-boggling, but alas, I was but a human. And unlike the werewolves of lore, it seemed that whatever made a shifter a shifter was a genetic thing. Not a curse or disease that could be spread with a bite.

Shame, really.

The thought surprised me enough that I nearly tripped when Cas put me down on the porch.

Did I really want to be a shifter? I’d never really thought of it since that first night I’d gotten suspicious and dived into the murky waters of cryptozoologist forums and subreddits.

The vast majority of them stated that lycanthropy was technically a myth and couldn’t be transferred.

Hmm… I really wouldn’t mind if I could be turned. There didn’t seem to be a lot of downsides other than the whole first-shift-during-puberty thing. The idea of a double puberty wasn’t exactly the most appealing.

But being the same species as my boyfriend? Being able to spend a full, extended shifter life with him? That certainly had its appeal.

It was a shame. Nothing could be done about it, but I figured it was okay for me to acknowledge the sentiment at least.

“Have I ever told you that you’re stunning?” Cas asked, pulling me against his chest. I went with him easily, pressing my body against the hard planes of his powerful form.

“Once or twice,” I said, tracing my finger down the line of buttons on his flannel. For being such a warm-blooded species with a high temperature, shifters wore way warmer clothes than I would. “And usually with a baking pun involved.”

“A pun? Me? Never! ”

I flicked his nose playfully. “You callin’ me a liar?”

“Well, I certainly ain’t callin’ you a truther.”

We both chuckled, and I loved how easily laughter and mirth mixed with our intimacy. Sure, it was fantastic when it was vicious and intense and full of heat, but I loved when there was some levity to it because that was when we were so unapologetically us.

Reaching behind me, Cas opened his door and walked me backward.

He didn’t have to lock his place up, which was quite different from my own place in the city.

Then again, I pitied the robber who tried to break in.

Not only did Cas not have a lot of things , but with all the enhanced senses in the surrounding area, there would be a shifter on the intruder in no time. They wouldn’t even know what hit them.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Cas mused as he kicked the door closed with his foot.

“Oh, nothing,” I said, my cheeks burning. “Just silly stuff.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of my nose. “I like when you’re silly.”

“Funny, I like when you’re you. ”

He didn’t quite blush, but he sent me a sheepish smile that never failed to make my chest bubble up with fierce pride.

I loved that I affected him so. Maybe it was egotistical of me, but I liked to think that, step-by-step, I was getting Cas closer to realizing what an amazing man and alpha he was.

He had an immense amount of pressure on his shoulders—mostly from himself—but anything I could do to relieve his anxiety was a boon.

“I like when you’re you,” he murmured, his eyes going half-lidded before he leaned down and pressed his lips gently to mine. It wasn’t making out, wasn’t biting or demanding, but heat and tension thrummed inside me.

Cas broke the kiss, but he didn’t straighten. Instead, his lips went to my ear. “And I like being in you too.”

Oop, there it was.

It was amazing how we could go from a low simmer to me feeling like fire was pooling in my belly, but in the span of a single sentence, I went from amused and horny to desperately needy. Blood rushed through my veins. My nipples hardened, and my center grew wet.

I kissed him back, and this time I wasn’t gentle. I put all my eagerness and desire into it. I wanted him to feel how ravenous I was for him. I may not have been a wolf myself, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have some bite of my own.

“What are you waiting for?” I asked breathlessly once we parted to catch our breath.

His eyes grew darker, and a thrill seared through me. My toes were curling in my shoes, and every one of my senses was dialed up to eleven.

“Hmmm, nothing, I guess,” he murmured before picking me up and carrying me. I wrapped my legs around his waist on instinct, clinging to him. My mind went wild as I felt his erection pressing against me.

We didn’t make it to his bedroom. Instead, I felt something cold and solid through my sundress as he set me down. Blinking, I realized I was on his kitchen island. Its height perfectly aligned my slit with the length of his cock.

Fuck, it was wonderful to be unapologetically desired. There was nothing in the world like it.

“Too impatient to make it to the bed?” I teased, batting my eyes at him like I always did when I was asking for trouble. When it came to Cas, being in trouble was utterly delicious.

“Exactly that,” he murmured before capturing my lips in a kiss just as bruising as the one I’d laid on him. I gripped his arms, my legs squeezing him even tighter, and if I didn’t have a visceral craving for him to be inside of me, I might have stayed like that forever.

That was the thing, though. I always craved him inside of me. Always craved that connection between us.

God, I was so in love.

“Besides,” he murmured when our mouths were free. “This is where I usually eat delicious things.”

“I—”

He sank down onto his knees before me.

Oh, God, yes!

Some men didn’t like eating out their partners because they were shitty, selfish lovers, and that some men didn’t like to do it because they found it too effeminate—too submissive.

But I would never get that because there was something so utterly intoxicating about Cas undoing me so expertly with just his tongue.

I loved the way he grabbed my thighs and made me take it, pushing me into overstimulation because there was no escape from the pleasure he gave me.

But that small flicker of insecurity rose up in my brain, and I clenched my thighs together, and the fizzing, churning lust inside me dulled a smidge. “Shouldn’t I take a shower first? I’ve been sweating in the sun all day.”

The way Cas’s eyes burned as he looked up at me stole what little breath I had. “I may not be an expert cook, but I know all the best recipes need seasoning.”

Oh.

My.

God.

I was gobsmacked, genuinely gobsmacked, and it must have shown on my face because Cas stood and wrapped his arms around me.

“We can take a shower if you’re not comfortable,” he murmured, kissing the top of my head as his strong biceps squeezed me just enough to feel supportive. Encouraging. “I never want to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

I knew that right into the deepest parts of my heart. I knew it just like I knew I needed oxygen to breathe.

Cas let go of me and cupped my chin, tilting my head so I was gazing directly at his smoldering expression. “But I promise you, I have no problem devouring you, sweat and all.”

The way he stared at me simply wasn’t fair. It was also so open, so fucking true, that I felt myself grow braver. What was the point in listening to that mean, insecure voice in my head when I had a partner who was clearly into me?

“I… I’m good,” I said after a breath. “Are you sure, though? Because you don’t have to.”

At his nod, I gripped the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him fiercely into a kiss, nipping at his lips. He responded in kind, his hands gripping my waist like iron. The tighter he held me, the more secure I felt, so by the time he was kneeling in front of me again, I was more than ready.

“Gorgeous ,” he murmured so softly that I knew it was more of a breathless statement to himself rather than something meant for my ears.

Fuck, if that didn’t make my pussy throb with want as his hands slowly slid up my thighs, like he was savoring every single inch of thigh being revealed to him as he pushed my sundress out of the way.

And then his mouth was on me.

He wasn’t a fool, who went too hard and too soon all at once, treating my poor clit like a record on a DJ’s table. No, he pressed his lips softly to my left thigh. It was barely a touch, but it made me gasp.

Once more I was struck by the conflicting urge to yank myself away from the rush of sensation that lit up every nerve along my spine, and to grab his hair and push him harder against me.

I wanted him to kiss me, to lick me, to bite me, to leave marks on my thighs that I could press my thumb into later when I was on break at work or alone in my bed while he tended to pack business.

“Patience,” he rumbled against my skin. How I didn’t melt right then and there, I had no idea.