I take over the rest for him leaning my upper body across the table, my arms outstretched. We’re at the widest point so there’s nothing for me to hold on to but the other side. I stretch my fingers out against the cool metal where my exposed skin touches.
“I like it when you listen to me.” Bennett leans over my body covering my back. His fingers trail up my sides. Starting at my hips they skim the surface of my skin, the pads of his fingers tickling my skin and bunching my shirt higher.
He reaches my chest and keeps going, taking my bra with him. My nipples pebble as they hit the cool metal on the table. He unhooks my bra, moving it out of the way, but leaving my shirt bunched around my shoulders. The buttons on his light plaid button-down shirt scratch against my naked back.
Squeezing his body harder against mine, the edge of the metal tray pushes into my stomach as Bennett leans across me and grabs a long wooden spoon from the carafe of them I keep on the table.
“My spoon?” I ask, watching him select one.
He slaps the bottom of the spoon on the table, the banging loud and unexpected causing me to jump. “Don’t ask questions.”
Holy shit.
My pussy convulses. This kind of bossy Bennett I could get used to.
Maybe.
He lays the spoon on table, within my eyesight but not close. His hands roam around my hips, starting at the bottom of my shorts and pulling up as he palms my ass. They finally stop at the front of my jean shorts. Bennett undoes the button and lowers the zipper, using his large open palms to slide them down my legs. They hit the floor with a soft thud. Bennett pushes his hips forward, his hard thick length obvious against my cheeks through his jeans.
I want to beg him to hurry up, but I know from previous times we’ve been together it will do me no good. Bennett likes to play. If being on an island open to the public where anyone could see us didn’t make him rush, nothing will. I’m not sure how the mood went from him yelling at me for making stupid decisions this evening to me being bent over my kitchen table, but I like it. I don’t plan to question the change.
My underwear come down much faster. Bennett gives them two quick tugs before they hit the pile on the floor.
“Step.” I lift one leg and he kicks my pants to the side. “Spread your legs.”
I do as he says, moving one leg to the side and rebalancing myself on the table. The room feels so hot, the heat from Bennett’s body making the table warm and increasing my excitement. There’s something about him that draws me closer. There’s no other reason why I’d agree to stand naked in my kitchen.
Bennett retrieves the wooden spoon and I brace, waiting for him to strike it against my skin. But it doesn’t happen. The warmth and smoothness of the wood of the spoon pushes against the skin at the back of my knee. He uses the tip and slides it against and off the back of my leg. When he reaches the curve of my butt I flinch, again waiting for the strike.
But it doesn’t come.
I sag on the table about to lose a battle with not betting if he makes me wait any longer. Bennett pulls back and then there’s a fresh bite of pain on my right butt cheek.
“Oh my God.” My body tightens against the flick of pain and I swear the sound echoes through the kitchen.
The spoon clatters against the table, Bennett tosses it to the side. His belt jingles, the metal clacking together as he hurries to quickly unfasten it. The metal hits the tile floor with the small ding followed by a discreet tearing of the condom wrapper.
Seconds pass as I wait, ready and dripping. With a hand on my back he aligns himself behind me and rubs circles on my clit. I push my lower half away from the table trying to get closer.
I’m wet and ready for Bennett’s entrance, and he slides in smoothly, my inner walls clenching. My body stretches allowing him access and I dig the pads of my fingers against the cool metal helping to give myself purchase. Bennett starts at a slow rhythm. The in and out thrust in tempo to the large circles he continues to pass against my nub.
Before long I’m squeezing my eyes shut against the pleasure growing higher and higher up my chest. A moan catches in my throat and my body convulses against the now warm table as my orgasm rips through my body to the point of almost pain.
Even after it ends my insides can’t relax. Small tremors continue to rake my insides. Bennett picks up his pace, his movements turning jerky until he stills, growling through his own release.
Leaning over my back he kisses the side of my neck. “Holy shit,” he says into my rumpled hair.
Holy shit is right.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The angry beeping from my phone fills the tiny little space I use as a bedroom.
Bennett groans and rolls over, wrapping his arm across my chest. “What is that noise?”
“It’s time to make the doughnuts,” I say cheerfully trying to imitate the commercials. But after only an hour of sleep, I fail miserably.
I have to start making more money so I can hire more help. Someone who likes mornings. And baking.
