Page 69

He smiled again, slower this time. “Because it isn’t.

It’s just the truth. That’s all it takes, sometimes.

" The light caught on his cheekbones, softening the planes of his face.

His hands were no longer flour-dusted, but I remembered the way they had moved earlier—capable, patient, teaching without condescending. He had never once made me feel foolish.

“Thank you,” I said finally. “For today. For making it more than just a post.”

“Anytime,” he replied simply, and it felt like a promise.

I watched him scroll through more comments, his expression growing thoughtful.

"You know," he said, glancing up at me, "this is just the beginning.

There's so much more I want to show you—baking bread, making preserves, maybe even trying your hand at soufflé. "

"Soufflé?" I laughed, the sound lighter than it had been in hours. "Christopher, I just barely managed pasta. Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"Trust me," he said, his gray eyes dancing with mischief. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll be cooking circles around all of us."

The way he said it—like it was inevitable, like he could see a future version of me I couldn't even imagine—made warmth bloom in my chest.

"Christopher," I said softly, setting down my mug. The way he looked at me in the golden kitchen light made my breath catch. There was something unguarded in his expression, a tenderness that made my heart skip.

"Yeah?" he murmured, stepping closer until I could smell his cologne mixed with the lingering scents of our cooking—something warm and inviting that made me want to lean into him.

Instead of answering with words, I reached up and brushed the remaining bit of dough from his knuckle with my thumb.

The simple touch sent electricity through both of us, his breath hitching slightly as my fingers lingered against his skin.

His eyes darkened, pupils expanding as he watched me with a mixture of surprise and longing.

"You missed a spot," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Christopher's gaze dropped to my lips for just a moment before returning to my eyes.

"Did I?" he murmured, his voice rougher than usual.

I nodded, suddenly very aware of how close we were standing, of the warmth radiating from his body, of the way the kitchen seemed to shrink around us until there was nothing but this moment, this man, this unfamiliar yet exhilarating tension between us.

"Lilianna," he breathed, my name a question and a plea all at once.

His hand came up, hesitating just inches from my face, waiting for permission.

I leaned into his touch, the simple gesture answering his unspoken question.

His palm was warm against my cheek, slightly rough from cooking, and impossibly gentle.

His thumb traced a path along my cheekbone, leaving trails of heat in its wake.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked softly, the question hanging in the air between us.

My heart hammered against my ribs, but not from fear—from anticipation.

"Yes," I whispered back, already leaning forward.

Christopher's lips met mine with unexpected tenderness, a gentle pressure that made my eyes flutter closed.

Unlike Julian's commanding intensity, Christopher's kiss was playful, exploratory—like he was savoring each moment, each sensation.

His hand slid from my cheek to cup the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair as he deepened the kiss with careful deliberation.

I found myself melting into him, my hands coming up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my palms. His heartbeat quickened under my touch, and I felt a small thrill knowing I affected him this way.

Christopher's other arm wrapped around my waist, drawing me closer until I was flush against him, surrounded by his warmth and scent—cinnamon and cloves with hints of the herbs we'd just cooked with.

When we finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Christopher rested his forehead against mine, his eyes searching my face with wonder.

"I've been wanting to do that since the first time I saw you in the kitchen," he admitted, his voice husky. "Standing there in your pajamas, looking so adorably confused."

A surprised laugh escaped me. "I was terrified that morning," I confessed, my fingers absently tracing patterns on his flour-dusted shirt. "Everything felt so foreign—this house, all of you, even myself."

Christopher's eyes softened. "And now?"

"Now it feels like I belong here," I whispered, the truth of it settling into my bones. "Like I was always meant to find my way to this kitchen. To all of you."

He smiled, the expression transforming his face with boyish delight. "You have no idea how happy that makes me."

His thumb traced the outline of my lower lip, sending shivers down my spine.

"May I kiss you again?" he asked, his voice reverent.

Instead of answering, I rose onto my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his.

This kiss was bolder than the first, my newfound confidence guiding me as I slid my hands up to tangle in his dark hair.

Christopher groaned softly against my mouth, the sound vibrating through me and awakening something deep in my core.

His hands tightened on my waist, pulling me impossibly closer as his tongue traced the seam of my lips, seeking entrance I gladly granted.

The kiss deepened, becoming hungrier, more desperate. I could taste the lingering sweetness of the pasta sauce on his lips, could feel the barely restrained need in the way his fingers pressed into my hips. When his teeth grazed my lower lip, I gasped, the sensation shooting straight through me.

"Lilianna," he murmured against my mouth, his voice rough with desire. "You're going to drive me crazy."

"Good," I breathed back, surprising myself with my boldness. "I want to affect you the way you affect me."

Christopher's eyes flashed with something primal at my words, his grip on my waist tightening. "You have no idea what you do to me," he said, his voice dropping to a low rumble that made heat pool in my belly. "Standing there in my kitchen, flour in your hair, looking at me like that..."

Before I could ask what expression I was wearing, his mouth was on mine again, more insistent this time.

His hands roamed my back, tracing the curve of my spine through the thin fabric of my sweater, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

I arched into his touch, my body responding with an eagerness that would have frightened me weeks ago.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway broke us apart, both of us breathing heavily.

Christopher's hands remained on my waist, steadying me as we tried to compose ourselves.

Julian appeared in the doorway, his hazel eyes taking in the scene before him with one raised eyebrow.

His expression wasn't angry—more amused than anything else—as his gaze flickered between Christopher's flushed face and my disheveled appearance.

"I see the cooking lesson went well," Julian remarked dryly, leaning against the doorframe with casual grace.

Christopher's hands didn't leave my waist, though his grip loosened slightly.

"Very well," he replied, a hint of challenge in his voice.

"Lilianna has quite the natural talent." I felt heat rush to my cheeks but didn't pull away.

Something had shifted between us, and I wasn't willing to pretend it hadn't happened.

Julian's lips curved into a small smile as he pushed away from the doorframe and approached us.

"I can see that," he said, his voice low and intimate.

When he reached us, he brushed a strand of hair from my face with gentle fingers, the gesture tender and possessive all at once.

"You have flour in your hair," he murmured, his touch lingering against my temple.

"It was a very hands-on lesson," I managed, my voice still slightly breathless from Christopher's kisses.

Julian's eyes darkened at my words, and I realized how they might have sounded. The air in the kitchen seemed to thicken with unspoken tension as Julian's gaze moved between Christopher and me, taking in our flushed faces and the way we still stood pressed together.

"I can see that," Julian said again, his voice carrying a different weight this time. His hand slid down to cup my jaw, thumb brushing across my lower lip—still swollen from Christopher's attention. "And how are you feeling about your... lesson?"

The question held layers of meaning that made my pulse quicken. "Christopher's a good teacher," I managed my voice still soft and breathless.

"I'm sure he is," Julian murmured, his thumb tracing along my jawline. "Though I suspect he taught you more than just cooking."

Christopher chuckled behind me, the sound vibrating against my back. "She's a very eager student."

Julian's eyes darkened at the implication, his gaze dropping briefly to my lips, which were undoubtedly swollen from Christopher's kisses. "Is that so?"

I felt trapped between their twin gazes—Julian's commanding intensity and Christopher's playful hunger. The sensation wasn't threatening—quite the opposite. I felt cherished, desired, powerful in a way I'd never experienced before.

“Yes," I whispered, finding my voice. "I'm discovering I enjoy learning new things." Something shifted in Julian's expression—approval mixed with barely restrained desire. His hand slid to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair as he pulled me gently forward.

"May I?" he asked, his breath warm against my lips.

I nodded, unable to form words as Julian closed the distance between us, his mouth capturing mine with practiced precision.

Where Christopher's kiss had been playful exploration, Julian's was confident possession—he knew exactly how to touch me, how to taste me, how to make me melt against him.

Christopher's hands remained on my waist, his chest warm against my back as Julian deepened the kiss.

I was caught between them, overwhelmed by the sensation of being wanted by both men simultaneously.

Julian's tongue swept into my mouth with deliberate skill while Christopher's lips found the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder, pressing soft kisses there that made me gasp against Julian's mouth.

"Beautiful," Christopher murmured against my skin, his voice rough with desire. "You taste like sunshine and possibility."

Julian pulled back slightly, his breathing uneven as he studied my face. "How are you feeling, omega?" he asked, the endearment sending shivers down my spine. "Not overwhelmed?"

I shook my head, surprising myself with the certainty in my voice. "I feel... alive.”

Christopher's arms tightened around my waist from behind. "That's what we want for you," he said softly. "To feel everything you've been denied."

Julian's thumb traces over my lip. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up?”

I nodded, still feeling the lingering warmth of their touches on my skin. "I should probably shower off all this flour," I said, my voice softer than intended.

"Take your time," Julian murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "Christopher and I will clean up the kitchen."

"Hey now," Christopher protested with mock indignation, though his arms remained loosely around my waist. "I did most of the cooking. Shouldn't that exempt me from cleanup duty?"

Julian's lips quirked upward. "You also made most of the mess."

I laughed, the sound lighter than it had been all day. "I can help clean—"

"Absolutely not," both men said in unison, making me blink in surprise.

Christopher's chin rested on my shoulder as he spoke. "Part of learning to cook is learning that the chef never cleans up alone. Besides," his voice lowered, lips brushing against my ear, "you should enjoy the afterglow of your first successful kitchen adventure."

Julian's eyes tracked the motion, something possessive flashing in their depths before he nodded. "Christopher's right. Go relax. We'll handle this."

I hesitated, glancing between them. The dynamic felt new—not tense exactly, but charged with something I couldn't quite name. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Julian said, stepping back to give me space. "Dinner's at seven. Miles is bringing something special back from the city."

Christopher reluctantly released me, his fingers trailing along my waist as I stepped away. "Don't forget to check the post later," he reminded me with a wink. "The comments are already blowing up."

I nodded, suddenly feeling shy again as I made my way toward the door, feeling much more lighter than I did since waking up knowing