Primal love

Two: Breakfast

Mouth play(18+)

Kyrie paused in the doorway, his eyes softening as he looked at me. Without a word, he crossed the room in a few long strides and leaned down, scooping me up effortlessly. He cradled me against his chest, his hand cupping my back securely, the warmth of his body enveloping me. I tried not to think about the book he'd hidden away, tried to focus on the familiar comfort of his embrace as he carried me toward the kitchen.

"You look like you need a little help waking up," he teased, his voice low and playful as he nuzzled the top of my head. I couldn't help but laugh, the unease fading slightly, replaced by the warmth of his closeness.

"It's your fault," I said, leaning into him, my fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt. "You always get up too early. Maybe if you stayed in bed a little longer, I'd sleep better."

He chuckled at that, the sound rumbling in his chest, and I felt his arms tighten around me just a little. "You know I like to get a head start on the day," he replied. "Besides, it's nice to have some time to think. And to make you breakfast, of course."

In the kitchen, he set me down gently on the counter. Then, he turned away, moving with a practiced ease as he started gathering ingredients from the cupboards. Eggs, bread, and fresh fruit the usual. I watched him as he worked, the way he hummed softly under his breath, his movements smooth and precise. It was almost enough to make me forget about the strange moment we'd just shared, about the book.

"What do you feel like having today?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at me. "I was thinking French toast, but if you want something different, just say the word."

"French toast sounds perfect," I said, letting my smile widen, and for the first time in what felt like days, it felt genuine. The tension in the room eased a little more as he cracked eggs into a bowl, whisking them with a practiced hand. I let myself relax, watching him move around the kitchen, so big and confident, like he had everything under control. This is the man I fell in love with

"Good choice," he said, flashing me another smile as he dipped the bread into the egg mixture, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You know, I was thinking we could do something fun today. Maybe a movie night or a game? Just the two of us."

I nodded eagerly, the idea of normalcy, of spending a quiet, uncomplicated evening together sounded like exactly what I needed. "That sounds great. I've been wanting to rewatch that old movie we liked, the one with the weird twist at the end."

He laughed at that, sliding the first slices of egg-soaked bread into the sizzling pan. "Oh, the one you said was 'too predictable' until the last five minutes?"

"Exactly," I said, grinning as I leaned back, propping myself up on my elbows. "You have to admit, it was pretty shocking."

"Only because you missed all the clues," he teased, flipping the bread with a practiced flick of his wrist. The smell of cinnamon and butter filled the kitchen, and for a moment, it was like everything was back to normal the teasing, the easy banter, the warmth that had always been there between us.

I watched him as he cooked, the way his face relaxed, the lines of tension around his eyes smoothing out. It was like the strange possessiveness of the night before had vanished, replaced by the familiar rhythm of our mornings together. It felt good, comforting. Like I had my Kyrie back, if only for a little while.

He moved to the pantry, reaching for the powdered sugar, and I couldn't help but admire the way he seemed to glide through the kitchen, his movements graceful despite his size.

As soon as he was distracted, I wandered over to his plate, curiosity getting the better of me. His portion was massive, each slice of French toast stacked high, golden brown and glistening with butter and syrup. I leaned over the rim, the steam rising up around me, and a mischievous grin tugged at my lips. The idea of teasing him bubbled up maybe even stealing a little taste of his breakfast just to see his reaction.