Irrevocably Mine (Imagine Ink Book 3) (12 page)

A long-dormant part of her took over once she was in the kitchen. Humming.
She was fucking humming and prancing around the kitchen like an animated Disney chick in a cabin in the woods
. The desire to please Dax was a driving force. The last time she felt domestic was…
shit, when did I ever feel truly domestic?
It wasn’t until she placed the food on the tray she realized she’d made breakfast for dinner—her favorite thing to do, or it had been, once upon a time. Staring down at the fluffy pancakes brought back some of the best times in her life.

When she was just a girl, her parents used to make
dinfast
and camp out in the living room. Some of the greatest memories of her childhood involved eating breakfast for dinner in blanket forts on that hideous avocado shag carpet her mother loved. After the fire, she was lost for a while, coping with the loss of her parents. When she finally dealt with the devastating loss, the three of them were a happy, yet unconventional, family. John used to make them
dinfast
and they would camp in the living room with Troy like it was an adventure. The way they did with their parents. The way Troy had been denied.

Dinfast
had become the Roberts family way of showing love. John had often teased her over the recent years that he would know she’d found the one when she made him
dinfast
. Those golden brown discs and crispy strips meant love and caring in her mind. She hadn’t just cooked for Dax; she was taking care of him…loving him. If he only knew what a huge deal this was for her, he would know, without a doubt, that she loved him.

T
he smell
of sizzling bacon teased his nose, but it wasn’t enough to rip him from Stacy’s arms. She was gloriously naked, reverse cowgirl, and riding his dick like a rodeo queen. When her moans of pleasure morphed into hum-singing, her edges started to blur into black, then gray. And then white. The white was ravenous, and the edges weren’t enough, it wanted it all. His hands flailed as he struggled to grasp her before she dissolved into nothingness.

Dax’s eyes flew open and she was gone. Realization struck as her hummed words tickled his ears.
Halestorm? Interesting, but not surprising.
It had been a dream. Stacy wasn’t gone. Instead, she was in her kitchen cooking him breakfast, if the smell was any indication, and happily singing. From the bumpy cadence of her words, he imagined her dancing around too. A lazy stretch and a satisfying yawn added to his sense of serenity. If his daughter were in his life, it would be sheer perfection.

Dax leaned back with his arms folded under his head. The domestic images in his mind just adding to his bliss. That’s when it hit him like a ton of bricks.
Gawain’s wooden lance, she’s happy.
Singing in the kitchen making bacon happy…because of me. Us.
Screwing his eyes shut, he brought his hands around and scrubbed them down his face as he spoke on an exhale, “Freaking, I did that!”

“And what is it you’ve allegedly done, Mr. Askrsson?” Stacy’s voice ripped him from his mental fist-pumping, chest-bumping, high-fiving himself session. His breath was locked in his chest the minute he dropped his hands and opened his eyes. She was backlit from the hall light in a halo of pale yellow, wearing nothing but a short, black silk robe and holding a tray of food. Her hair was a crown of messy wet spikes as she leaned against the doorjamb in a cocky, yet meek, way.
How could a woman be both at the same time?

Hands in a camera position, Dax pretended to take a picture. “Click.”

“What the hell was that?” Stacy asked as she leaned up from the jamb and made her way toward Dax in an agonizingly slow track.

“That was me taking a mental snapshot so I would never forget that moment.” He inched up the headboard as Stacy placed the tray over his lap and sat cross-legged by his hip. She snatched a piece of bacon from his plate and nibbled it, but he barely noticed because the robe fell open, both above and below the thin belt, exposing her delectable pussy and a part of herself she had yet to show him. The urge to let his forefinger rise and hook under the edge of the ebony satin at her shoulder and drag it down was almost irresistible. But Dax knew if he did, it would be perceived as her body being more important than this effort she had put forth to cook for him. Instead, he dragged his eyes to her lips, glistening with the evidence of her pilfered bacon, and leaned in for a quick kiss.

“This smells amazing and my stomach is growling like a pissed-off bear. Thanks, babe, this is just what I needed.” He dropped his eyes to the tray for the first time. He reached for the utensils and licked his lips. As he lifted the first forkful of fluffy, syrupy goodness toward his eager mouth, he paused. It took a few seconds to register. She made him breakfast for dinner?

Breakfast. For. Dinner.

Holy shit
.

John had told him all about the Roberts Family
Dinfast.

He looked into her eyes and let the fork drop back to the plate. There it is. Caring, deep and true. And…love.

Dax shoved the tray to the side of the bed and had her pinned under him in record time. Before she even made a sound, he was seated deep inside her body—so deep, they were one. She gasped at the intrusion but let her eyes flutter closed. Dax was already walking the razor’s edge. She loved him, she freaking loved him. Her lips may hesitate to release the words. Hell, her brain may deny what her heart was screaming, but the evidence was right there—abandoned and teetering on the edge of the bed—breakfast for dinner. That tray didn’t lie.

As Dax pistoned in and out of her body, he knew this was it. He would never let her go, he would do whatever he had to do to make her his.
Undeniably and irrevocably mine.
Whether or not Stacy knew it, she had declared her love for him, and he’d be damned if she would ever get away from him now. “Fuck, woman, I love you so much. You are mine. Mine. Mine.” He staked his verbal claim with each thrust.

“Not that…I’m complaining, but what brought out your beast?” The sexiest sound came from her throat as he answered her question with a brutal kiss—more teeth than tongue but still hot as hell. He felt as if he were trying to meld them together for good. When he moved his oral assault to her neck, she spoke again—breathless and high-pitched.

“Because fuck, I want to know how to call him to the surface again.” Another keening cry, and she was there. He could feel it in the way her body rippled and taste it on her skin. “I am loving this feral side of you, Dax, but seriously…what changed?”

Dax paused his rapid thrusts, only to grind down against her body and enjoy her eyes rolling back into her head like a slot machine. “
Dinfast
, baby,
dinfast
. You freaking love me and that deserves a thorough fucking.” Her eyes dropped from being rolled back in bliss, and her shock was adorable. The
how
? was written all over her face. Dax wanted more fucking and fewer questions, so he answered her silent inquiry. “John.” Another slow grind returned her eyes back into her head and ripped another mewl from her throat. “John told me that means love. You can deny it if you want to, but bacon and pancakes at this hour tell the truth. Now, can I finish giving you a mind-blowing orgasm so I can eat my
dinfast
and then dessert…again?”

Once more, he didn’t wait for an answer, he had one. Now, he wanted her to scream his name. While his hips went into a deep, circular thrust, his mouth made its way to her chest and she made no move to stop his quest. Nosing away one side of the robe, then the other, he got a look at her glorious chest for the first time. She took his breath away…again. “You are absolutely perfect, babe.” He leaned in and kissed the scar—lathing every single inch of it with his tongue and memorizing every pucker in the whitened line.

“Dax, you don’t have to…” Stacy tried to stop him. He grabbed her hands, held them next to her head, and went nose to nose with her while he maintained an agonizingly slow grind, keeping their bodies primed.

“You do know that I find that part of you extremely sexy? Even more so than your other breast, because that side means you are here with me today. You can’t possibly think I don’t find that hot as hell.” Dax was ecstatic when he saw acceptance in her eyes. She had finally let some doubt go and believed his heartfelt words. “Now lay back and let me worship this body like I plan to for the rest of my days.” Dax released one hand and cradled her cheek, letting his sincerity flow between them. “Stacy, let me love you, all of you. I know you’ve been hurt, but I won’t do that, and I won’t let you pull away from me. Not after you made me bacon.” He winked, dropped his head to her breast, and lavished the same oral attention to it, while caressing her scar with the gentle, loving touch.

When Stacy shifted her knees and started steering him with his ass, he felt her body begin to tighten around his cock. She was so close and he wanted to see it in her eyes, witness that moment of unparalleled bliss, the love she felt but couldn’t voice. Stacy unmasked. If he hadn’t been watching, he would have missed her almost-inaudible words, but her lips read loud and clear.

“I
dinfast
you.”

That whispered confession reached into his heart and pulled the pleasure from him. It was the never-ending orgasm. As far as coming goes, he had his love gun set to fully automatic and it was a firefight.

When the last jerk of his hips emptied his balls, he dropped half-on/half-off her delicious body, kissed her scar once more, and mumbled, “I
dinfast
you, too,” as exhaustion beckoned them both to the edge of sleep.

S
he stared
at the ceiling in stunned silence. Before she had time to register what all had gone down, she felt a vibration against her chest. The sound was familiar and rhythmic. Was that…? She damn near gave herself whiplash looking down at the smiling, bearded face plastered to her puckered smile. She didn’t have the brain cells to analyze all of that because her brain was diverted as recognition set in.

“Oh, my ever-loving God, Dax, are you humming ‘Love Gun’ by KISS?” He grinned, pursed his lips, and proceeded to whistle while making eyes at her. “Jesus H. Christ, you are.” And she laughed. Not the acceptable public laugh or the I’m-on-a-date polite laugh, but full-on snort laughing until she couldn’t breathe—the way Gus did. Dax joined her. They must’ve laughed for minutes straight, because her side hurt and Dax had tears running down his face. As it was dying down, she stroked his beard, more of petted really, and he sighed like a contented housecat.

“I find it hot that you knew that. It was on my mind as I drifted off, because I kinda thought that while I was coming.” He looked up at her sheepishly and she snort-laughed in his face, setting off round two of laughing to tears. As she looked into his eyes, which reflected a deep inner happiness, she wondered,
Is this what I’ve been missing out on my whole life? I can do this. Especially if I can see that look in his eyes knowing I put it there. What a rush.

Stacy let those thoughts swirl around in her bloodstream and curl around her heart while she simply enjoyed the serenity of it all.

A contented sigh escaped both of their mouths simultaneously. That was when panic set in. She couldn’t give him everything. If she did, she would lose a bit of herself and become too attached to him.
Who am I kidding; the attachment is already there
. As much as she believed Dax would never intentionally hurt her, she felt a whole lot of change at once, power slipping away. A certain amount of self-preservation was prudent. She needed to prove to herself that she wanted him more than needed him.

She wore her own damn cape and would never need a white knight to ride in and save her ass. Her face must’ve reflected her inner turmoil because Dax sat up and dropped a sweet kiss on her nose. “Where did you go, babe?”

Always one to recover quickly, Stacy reversed their positions and straddled his lap while leaning down to nibble his spot. She knew she could distract him from the questions he had about her mental withdrawl. “Nowhere, hun. I’m right here, or can’t you tell?” A well-timed bite and a hip roll had his inquisitive eyes hidden behind his lids as he bit his bottom lip and moaned. However, it was short lived. His body stiffened and not in the anticipated way. Dax sat up, grasped her hips and forced her to sit next to him.