“Enough teasing.” He whisked me off the counter and carried me to the bedroom.
He must’ve made up the bed while I was sleeping, because the sheets were crisp and fresh.
“Not so fast.” I pushed him off, even though I was already imagining each thrust, each wild, pounding thrill of his possession. I knew Alex’s food, and now I wanted a taste of him.
Kicking off my panties, I dipped my head to taste him. His abs clenched, his body rising to meet me. Teasing him with my tongue, I circled his tip, until he knotted his fingers in my hair and slid his shaft between my lips. A long hiss escaped him, like a rod of hot steel doused in water.
Hauling my T-shirt off me, he pinned me under him. I gasped as bare chest met bare chest. He paused for a moment, tearing open a foil package and rolling on a condom. That first thrust, impossibly tight, plunged into me with burning intensity. And then, as if pulling back from frenzied need, Alex stroked my cheek, still buried inside me. Our eyes held, his forehead against mine, a question in his burning gaze:Are you okay?
I nodded.
A kiss. Soft and tender. More intimate than the throbbing pulse where our bodies joined. Another kiss. This one on the corner of my mouth. Drifting up to my jawline. Arms sliding under my shoulders, Alex buried his face in my hair and pulled out almost all the way. I gasped when he plunged back in, hard and deep. My legs locked around him, my body submitting to his rhythm. With each thrust, I stretched and melted around him.
“Alex.” Tremors started coursing through my body.
His breath hitched as he sensed my quickening. My head fell back as he re-entered, filling me even deeper. Pleasure burned hot as I felt the cresting, like a wave about to break.
His kiss was rough, pushing me over the razor-sharp edge of pleasure. A wild orgasm rocketed through me. Sensation after sensation of quivering waves.
Holy hell.
Alex’s lips swallowed my ragged breath. His thrusts stilled as my body recovered, then picked up again, his own desire rising like a crescendo. He clasped my hips, pulling me into his final thrust. The tendons on his neck stiffened as release rippled through him.
We remained locked, waiting for our hearts to still and our minds to catch up.
I had felt the spark between us, but my senses were spinning from the encounter.
Alex discarded the condom, and we curled up in each other’s arms. My body tingled as I settled into his embrace, my head tucked under his chin. His fingers stroked my arm, my neck, my back. His half-lidded eyes lingered over me, as if I were a dream he didn’t want to wake up from.
The world was quiet in Alex’s stone cottage, just the breeze playing with our limped, tangled legs. The sun crept over our bodies and curtains whispered against the window. I snuggled closer to Alex and dozed off, not wanting this to ever end.
Iturned sleepily on my back and found Alex propped up on his pillow—white sheets, bare skin, and the sharp haircut I was still getting used to. Then, something else clamored for my attention.
Strong male fingers between my thighs. The hot, wet slide of Alex’s kiss trailing over my breasts, teasing my nipples. His tongue dipped into my navel and slid lower.
“Alex, we just…” I trailed off as his mouth found my clit.
“That was just the palate cleanser, agapi mou. We still have the second main course… Dessert…” He filled the space between words with a swipe of his tongue. “Mignardise…”
I gripped the sheets and arched into him.
I had no idea what mignardise was, but sex with a master chef definitely had its perks.
Lunch was late. Very late. By the time Alex and I dragged ourselves to the kitchen, Vasilis was nowhere in sight.
“He’ll come around.” Alex grinned when he saw the empty chair on his porch. “And I know exactly how to make it happen. Open the window.” He grabbed a canister from the overhead shelf. “And that one too.”
This was Alex in chef mode—fired up and raring to go. It didn’t stop him from stealing a kiss when I brushed past him.
“No.” He pried the cutting board away from my fingers. “We’re not on the yacht.” His voice was warm and honey-coated. It begged to be scooped and stored in a glass jar, next to all the herbs and spices lining the shelves. “Today, you’re a guest in my home. Actually, in Mrs. Tavoulari’s home. I bought it from her during the economic crisis. Everyone was having a hard time making ends meet and she was no exception. It set back my plans to open a restaurant, but it was more important to keep her from losing her home. She died a few years ago, and I decided to hold on to it.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I was hoping to meet her.”
“I still have her jar of walnuts.” Alex pulled it off the shelf and pried a nut open with his knife. “Now…” He popped a piece into my mouth and patted the stool. “Just sit here and pretend I’ve left you incapable of doing anything except making heart-eyes at me. Ready? Go.”
I laughed as he measured a cup of flour into a mixing bowl.
“Salt. Eggs.” He added each ingredient with exaggerated flair. “Hey. Heart-eyes. I don’t see heart-eyes.”
