[BL] CRAVING HIM: Addicted to His Voice-Chapter 311: Hands, Hearts, and Habits

~Zayn’s POV~

"Yes, baby, I have been learning," he confirmed, his eyes full of tenderness. "Because we are getting married soon, and I want to make breakfast in bed for you myself."

He took my hands, his voice softening into a heartfelt confession. "I don’t want you to be the only one stressing in the kitchen or for us to depend on the maid every time. I want to cook for you too, Zayn. I want to take care of you."

"Aww, that’s my big baby." I couldn’t hold back the rush of emotion. I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly. I had never expected a gesture like this from him.

"I’m still learning," he murmured against my neck, holding me close. "I’m not perfect yet... but I will be soon."

I pulled back just enough to look at his face, my eyes shining. "You are perfect for me, thank you, baby."

I finally pulled completely away and walked over to the stove, inspecting his handiwork. "Alright, Chef Evric," I teased, walking toward the counter. "What culinary masterpiece is my man conjuring up for his exhausted lover this morning?"

I peered over his shoulder. On the cutting board was a neatly sliced avocado, and in the pan, a couple of perfectly round, golden pancakes sizzled next to a side of scrambled eggs. Simple, classic, and exactly what a beginner would attempt.

"Ah, the beginner’s trifecta!" I exclaimed, my voice dripping with dramatic admiration. "Pancakes, eggs, and the mighty avocado toast. Very safe, very effective."

He playfully nudged me with his hip. "Babe! It’s edible, and it’s nutritious. I followed a very detailed YouTube tutorial, step by step." He pointed proudly to the pan. "See? No burnt edges. I achieved perfect browning."

"They look perfect," I admitted, tempering my teasing tone, reaching out to steal a piece of the warm avocado slice he had meticulously arranged on a plate.

He swatted my hand away gently. "Control yourself, that’s for the plating!"

"Ouch, babe! That’s painful!" I protested, holding my hand up dramatically.

He quickly dropped the spatula, taking my hand in both of his. "I’m sorry, sweetheart," he said, kissing the spot where he’d touched me. "Forgive me."

"I’ll forgive you," I said, unable to hide my genuine smile, "that’s only because I am thoroughly impressed with your cooking."

He kissed me again, relieved. "Thank you, love."

Just like that, we worked side-by-side, laughing as we finished up the final preparations in the kitchen, me fixing the consistency of the batter, and him carefully arranging the ’extra crispy’ pancakes. We sat down and enjoyed our breakfast, which tasted infinitely better because of the effort he’d put into it. I love my man cooking.

After we finished, we dressed quickly. Hand in hand, we stepped out of the house, ready to face the day.

~Nicki’s POV~

"Good morning, my troublemaker," Jaxon murmured, his voice soft and low.

I didn’t answer him. I just lay there, staring straight up at the ceiling, refusing to meet his eyes.

He pulled me closer, fitting my back against his chest. "Honey, are you still angry because I didn’t allow you to smoke last night?"

Silence. My chest tightened in stubborn resistance.

"You didn’t even allow me to touch you last night when I reached out," he continued, a note of gentle hurt in his tone.

More silence. I refused to give him the satisfaction of a response.

He waited a beat, then called my name, his voice firmly slightly. "Nicki."

"What?" I finally snapped.

"I’ve been talking to you, and you didn’t reply," he pointed out reasonably. "Are you angry because I stopped you from smoking?"

"Leave me alone, I’m not angry," I mumbled, though the sulking was painfully obvious.

He turned me gently to look at him, his gorgeous eyes full of genuine concern. "Honey, please. Can you just stop smoking?"

"I told you yesterday that if you let me smoke that one last stick, it would’ve been my final one," I argued, tugging the blanket higher around me. "But you didn’t let me... so I’m not angry."

The statement made no logical sense, but resentment didn’t care about logic.

Jaxon was silent for a long moment, simply studying my face.

I decided to escalate the drama. I tossed off the duvet and stood up, pretending I was about to leave, fumbling to gather my clothes as if I were really walking out of his house.

"Are you leaving already?" he asked, not moving.

"Yes."

"Okay," Jaxon replied calmly.

"Did you just say Okay?" I demanded, planting my hands on my hips.

"You are the one saying you wanted to leave," he pointed out, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"You can’t stop me!"

"I won’t stop you," he countered, leaning on his elbow. "Especially since you’re sulking because I stopped you from smoking."

"Fine." I turned my back and quickly dressed. He watched the entire performance, his gaze unwavering. The instant I was fully clothed and reached for my shoulder bag, he stood up.

He moved swiftly, yet without any aggression, closing the distance between us. "Hand me the smoke in your bag, the one in your pocket, and your lighter."

"Jaxon, leave me alone!" I protested, trying to pivot away.

"I know you," he said, his voice low and firm. "Once you step outside, you’ll go straight to smoke. So give me the smoke."

I wanted to vanish, to scream, but he was already reaching for my bag. He gently slipped it off my shoulder, efficiently checked the side pocket, and then, with equal smoothness, fished the last cigarette packet from my jacket pocket. He even confiscated the lighter.

"Don’t take my bag!" I yelled, even after he had already taken the contents. He handed the empty bag back to me and kissed my forehead.

"You can leave now, honey," he said, stepping back, his eyes twinkling with victory.

Seeing my escape route, and my supply, blocked, I couldn’t help the ridiculously childish reaction. I ran to the bed, jumped dramatically onto the mattress, and pulled the duvet over my head, sulking like a defeated toddler.

Jaxon laughed, walking over and sitting heavily on the bed, shaking the whole mattress. He pulled the duvet down slightly so he could see my face.

"Oh, my silly boy," he whispered, pushing the hair out of my eyes. "You’re so beautiful when you’re sulking. But you’re staying. We can watch bad movies and order takeout. You don’t need a smoke when you have a handsome man to breathe for you."

He leaned down and kissed my nose. "Now, come out of your blanket cocoon and let me make you some coffee. We’re fighting this addiction together, but we’re starting with cuddles, not nicotine."

He pulled me closer, trying to get me out from under the duvet pile. I resisted just enough to pull back slightly, managing to look him in the eye.

Then, sounding like the stubborn little brat he knew I was acting as, I whined, "Mine," my voice low and possessive as I claimed him.

"Yes, honey," he answered readily, an understanding smile in his eyes

I tried one last time, my voice tiny. "Can you just please let me smoke... just one?"

Jaxon didn’t answer with words. He just tilted his head slightly. "Kiss me."

I tried to negotiate again. "If I smoke, then tomorrow I promise—"

"Kiss me," he repeated, cutting off my argument.

I felt the frustration boil over. I banged my hand hard on the mattress, sulking like a toddler who hadn’t gotten his way.

"Kiss me, honey," he said again, his voice gentle but unwavering.

I was about to slam my hand on the wooden bed frame for maximum impact, but Jaxon caught my wrist mid-air. He held my hand firmly and pulled me into a gentle, crushing hug. "I love you too much to watch you hurt yourself, my troublemaker," he whispered, rocking me slightly.

"I know it’s not easy to stop, honey, but we can do it together, okay?" he coaxed, his affection slowly breaking through my resistance.

Finally, the fight left me. I slumped against him, inhaling the clean, warm scent of his skin. "Okay," I mumbled, accepting defeat.

"Kiss me," Jaxon immediately requested, releasing my hand to cup my face.

I leaned in and kissed him deeply, a kiss that tasted of lingering sleep, morning breath, and absolute surrender.

Then Jaxon drew back slightly, his eyes dark and heated. "Now," he commanded, his voice a low growl, "come and ride Daddy."

I bit my lip, my breath catching in my throat. I looked at him, my desire overwhelming my earlier frustration. "God knows I want you to ruin me and go deeper until I feel your dick in my throat."

Jaxon let out a rough, choked sound, a mix of relief and adoration. "Oh, good boy. That’s why I love you, silly...