God of Fury (Legacy of Gods #5) by Rina Kent

“Five minutes.”

“Fine.” I trace my fingers over his tattoos and stop when I reach a blank spot near his left pectoral muscle. “Is there a reason why you left this place empty?”

“Oh, that. It’s on my heart so I want to wait until I can think of something extra special.”

“Does that mean you plan to be covered in ink?”

“Fuck yeah. I have a lot of space on my back and thighs. Maybe you can sketch me something.”

“You’d want that?”

“Why not? You’re an artist, right?”

“I do landscapes.”

“I’m sure you can think of something as unique as me.”

“Your arrogance is astounding.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.” He strokes the back of my neck. “Have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?”

“No. I don’t like them on me. I prefer to leave my skin unblemished.”

“You’re so prim and proper.”

“Not all of us can wear tattoos. They look good on you, though.”

“Did you just admit to liking my tattoos?”

“I didn’t say I like them.”

“Fuck me. You do. You’re blushing, baby.”

“You’re dreaming.” I push away, and this time, I manage to disentangle myself. “I’m going to make breakfast.”

“Aw, don’t be shy. Come here.” He opens both arms, grinning like an idiot as I stride to the bathroom.

I manage to wash my face and brush my teeth without looking in the mirror, but I have to escape Nikolai again when he tries to grope me on my way out.

He’s seriously impossible.

Since there are virtually no groceries, I manage to make scrambled eggs and I stumble upon a half-eaten box of macarons and put the rest on a plate. He only knows how to buy pastries like a sweet-toothed monster.

I’m pouring water in the kettle for morning tea when a heavy arm wraps around my middle, a large chest presses to my back. Nikolai drops a kiss to my throat over a hickey he left last night before he rests his chin on my shoulder. “Can’t we go back to bed?”

“Stop being a baby and let me go. I can’t do anything when you’re all over me.”

“That’s the point.”

I lift the plate of confection and he grins, instantly releasing me to grab it.

“Macarons!”

He’s so easy to read, it’s heartwarming. Nikolai might be notoriously violent and a crass heathen, but he’s actually a staggeringly simple man, and I love that about him. I’m complicated enough for the both of us.

Pushing up against the counter beside me, he crunches two macarons in one go. He’s only in boxer briefs, his large muscles on full display and his hair falling in smooth waves to his shoulders. Honestly, I’m not complaining. It’s always a feast to look at him this way and know he’s all mine. This monster of a man belongs to me.

“Lotus flower?”

“Hmm?” I click the kettle and retrieve two tea bags.

Nikolai never liked tea before, but when I offer him a cup, he drinks without moaning about it. I’m converting him slowly but surely.

“I’m going to ask you a serious question.”

“What?”

“You said you were in love once. Who were you in love with?”

“Huh?” I stare at him as if he’s grown two heads.

“That day during that never have I ever game. You took the shot when Kill said ‘never have I ever been in love.’ Who stole your heart? I want to know.”

Fuck.

He looks so serious and wounded, I want to kiss him.

So I do. My lips seal to his and I swipe the crumbs of the disgustingly sweet macarons from his lips. “I lied. I was never in love.”

His smile is blinding and he licks his lips as if chasing away mine, then he frowns. “Why did you lie?”

“You were looking at me weird.”

“How weird?”

“Like you wanted to devour me on the spot.”

“I always wanted to devour you, baby.”

“Oh, really? I must’ve missed that.”

“Christ. Was that sarcasm again?”

I grab the kettle and pour water into two mugs. “Make yourself useful and help me set up the table.”

“Give me another kiss first.”

I fist his hair and shove him toward me, then claim his mouth in a slow, sensual kiss, twisting his tongue and tasting the sweetness.

Kissing him outside of sex is different. New. It makes my chest hurt and my brain fog up, but I was always a sucker for pain.

When I release him, he groans. “Mmm. From now on, I’m going to need you to kiss me good morning this way.”

I release him with a push. “Go.”

“Okay, going, going.” He smacks my arse on his way to the opposite counter.

“Nikolai!”

He just grins and rummages through almost all the cupboards until he finally finds two damn knives and forks.

I end up doing most of the work because the way he messes everything up drives me bonkers.

Once we sit down, I sip my English Breakfast tea and go through an e-newspaper on my phone while Nikolai devours the macarons like a monster.

“Who are you texting?” he asks after he swallows.