Chapter 108: Breakfast, My Lamb

Leitana’s small fingers paused mid-knot, the silk tie dangling crookedly around Ravial’s neck. Her hazel eyes went wide, searching his blindfolded face like she could peel back the silk and see the what lay beneath.

“So Leroy family is safe?” she asked, voice soft, almost disbelieving.

Ravial’s hand lifted, steadying the tie she’d been fumbling with for the last five minutes. He pulled away when she tapped his wrist, a silent my job and let her continue, even though the knot was now hopelessly askew.

“Yes,” he said simply.

Her breath caught. “When yu do dat?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead he reached up, tucking a loose curl behind her ear while she worked. The movement was slow, careful, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin behind her lobe until she shivered.

“Last night,” he murmured.

Leitana’s lips parted. “Yu… yu move dat fast?”

His thumb traced the shell of her ear. “They were taken discreetly in the middle of the night. My private extraction team. No trace. No witnesses. They’re in one of my safehouses now. A place Charles can’t reach. Not even with his money or his men.”

She blinked rapidly, processing. “But yu sure he no know? Yu sure he no suspect yu take dem?”

Ravial’s mouth curved just the barest hint of that dangerous smile she both loved and feared.

“Charles only sees what I want him to see,” he said. “Right now he believes Avery is the only one who knows anything. And she hasn’t told us a thing.”

Leitana’s brows drew together. She gave the tie one last tug, still crooked then flattened her palms against his chest, looking up at him seriously.

“Um… mi Ravial?”

“Yes, lamb.”

She bit her lip. “Avery… she tell Charles say she get yu attention. Say yu no want mi no more. Say she win yu. Mi know yu no like dat plan. Yu no wan pretend. But… let’s use it.”

Ravial went very still.

The air between them thickened.

He tilted his head down, blindfold hiding whatever was brewing behind it, but she felt the shift in his body—the way his muscles locked, the way his hand on her waist tightened just enough to make her breath hitch.

“You want me to pretend,” he repeated slowly, each word precise, “that I want your sister.”

Leitana hurried to explain, small hands clutching his lapels. “No—no! No pretend like dat! No touch her, no kiss her, no nothing! Jus’… let her tell Charles say she close to yu. Let him think she winning. Let him relax. Den we move. We get Mathew. We free Leroy family. We stop him. But no real touch. Jus’ words. Jus’ lie.”

Ravial was silent so long she started to fidget.

Then he exhaled, slow, controlled.

“If I do this,” he said, voice dangerously soft, “you feed me.”

Leitana blinked. “Feed yu?”

His head dipped lower, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“Yes.”

She swallowed. “Okay… okay. Tell mi what yu like. Mi make it. Pancake? Egg? Yu like dat avocado ting…”

He cut her off with a low chuckle, dark, amused with her innocence.

“It’s already made.”

She frowned, confused. “But…”

Without warning, his hands slid under the hem of his oversized dress shirt she wore. Cool air kissed her thighs as he lifted the fabric, exposing her simple cotton panties. Before she could gasp, he dropped to his knees,right there on the bedroom wood floor, bringing his face level with her hips since she was standing on a chair.

“Ravial….!”

He hooked two fingers in the waistband of her panties and yanked them down in one smooth motion. The fabric pooled at her ankles.

Cold air hit her bare pussy.

She squeaked, hands flying to his shoulders for balance. “What yu doin’, mi Ravial…?”

He looked up at her, blindfold in place, mouth already curving into that wicked half-smile.

“I’m having breakfast, my lamb.”

Then he leaned in and kissed her pussy, soft, open-mouthed and reverent like.

Leitana’s knees buckled.

He caught her instantly, one strong arm banding around her thighs, holding her upright while his other hand spread her gently open. His tongue flicked out, tracing her slit from bottom to top.

“Oh…!” Her head fell back, fingers digging into his shoulders.

He groaned against her, his voice low and hungry like she was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.

“Ravial… mi private part no food….”

He pulled back just enough for her to see his lips glistening.

“That’s exactly what I’m hungry for, my lamb.”

Then he dove back in.

No teasing this time.

He ate her like a starving man, tongue flat and broad, lapping up every drop of her arousal, circling her clit with firm, relentless strokes. His nose pressed against her mound, breathing her in like oxygen. One hand gripped her ass, kneading, spreading her wider so he could get deeper.

Leitana’s legs shook violently on the chair.

“R-Ravial…!” she gasped, voice breaking. “Mi, mi no fit stand…”

He growled against her pussy, vibrations shooting straight through her core and lifted her effortlessly, turning so her back hit the wall. He hooked her thighs over his shoulders, holding her aloft like she weighed nothing, mouth never leaving her.

Now she was spread open, helpless, feet dangling, hands scrabbling at his hair.

He sucked her clit into his mouth, hard and she cried out, back arching off the wall.

“Ravial, please…!”

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t slow down.

He devoured her, tongue plunging inside, then dragging back up to flick her clit again and again until her thighs clamped around his head and her whole body seized.

She came with a broken sob, waves crashing through her, hips bucking against his face, slick coating his chin.

He drank every drop.

When she finally sagged, boneless and panting, he rose slowly, licking his lips like a cat with cream.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes hidden behind the blindfold burning with so much heat that she was lucky she couldn't see it.

“Breakfast,” he said, voice rough, satisfied, “was delicious.”

Leitana stared at him, cheeks flaming, legs still trembling then burst into breathless giggles.

“Yu wicked,” she managed, voice shaky.

He leaned in, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself on his tongue.

“And you,” he murmured against her lips, “are mine.”

She melted against him, arms looping around his neck.

“Always,” she whispered.

He smirked.

“Now finish knotting my tie, little lamb.”

She laughed again, shaky, happy and went back to work.

The tie was still crooked.

He didn’t care.

He wore it anyway.

Because it was hers.