“That’s not how you answer me,” he croons, blowing on my clit.
“Yes, Chef,” I rush out with a shiver, lifting to my tiptoes as he makes a come-hither motion inside of me, rubbing the perfect spot.
My voice is a squeak. “Oh god, that’s so good.”
As a reward, he runs his tongue slowly over the throbbing little beggar, making my entire body convulse as he squeezes my ass to remind me to knead.
This is my own fault.
I woke up all hot and heavy this morning from my dream and stupidly said,Wanna play Top Chef?
But instead of rolling over on top of me, he hauled my ass out of bed, set me on a barstool, and began making bread. And now he’s forcing me to finish while he finishes me.
His tongue leaves my clit as he says, “The secret is to make sure you roll in a slow motion ... like this.”
My lips part as his thumb begins massaging my clit in slow circles. I don’t know if my hands are copying him, but I’m doing something, because I feel my body rocking.
Or maybe that’s because I’m desperate to orgasm so I’m fucking his fingers.
“You can’t put too much pressure ...” His fingers move together with his thumb, making me pant as I knead this damn dough. “You want to make sure it’s just enough, or you could ruin it.”
Jesus, my legs already feel like jelly and my lungs feel like I can’t suck in enough breath. Because he’s so fucking good at this.
He never lied when he said he fucked me better than he cooks ... because I’d give him all the Michelin stars. All of them. I’d take them from other restaurants to give to him.
My mind is a scattered mess, unable to keep itself on the goddamn dough because Chase just keeps stroking and fingering me. Over and over. In the most erotic rhythm.
I’m lost to the feeling of the way he fucks my cunt. The draw of his fingers against my entrance before he presses them back inside, massaging my G-spot each time.
He bites the inside of my thigh, and my body quakes before he starts to kiss and suck a hickey onto my skin.
Fuck, that’s sexy.
He’s so close to my clit that it amps up my lust. I rock my hips while his fingers do their work. My eyes close, my fingers pressed into the soft dough as his voice touches my skin.
“Je veux te marquer pour que tout le monde voie que tu es à moi. Tu auras de la chance si je ne te baise pas si fort que tu sentiras toujours comme moi.”(I want to mark you so everyone can see you’re mine. You’ll be lucky if I don’t fuck you so hard you’ll always smell like me.)
Fuck. I can feel my body building toward my orgasm. It’s gathering, swirling in my stomach, climbing higher and higher.
I’m breathing hard as his fingers massage me and his mouth stays just out of my reach. Dammit, I want his tongue so bad. I keep rocking my hips, begging for it.
“Kiss me,” I mewl, pressing my hips forward again.
“Ti bacerò finché non avrai un orgasmo così forte che potrò leccartelo via dalle cosce, tesoro.” (I’ll kiss you until you orgasm so hard I can lick it off your thighs, darling.)
Oh fuck.His mouth sends me over the edge, and not just the words. Chase slowly runs his tongue directly over my clit.
A wave of pleasure hits me as I suck in a breath and demolish the bread between my fingers.
“Chassuhhh ...” I grunt on a very unladylike moan, squeezing the dough between my fingers and bending over him, my face almost hitting the island.
But I barely finish, my chest heaving as I’m dragged down his body. His tongue licking my cum off my thighs before my knees touch the floor.
“Come ’ere,” he says, ragged and deep. “Get on ...”
He’s already pulled down his briefs, freeing his rock-hard cock as I straddle him, reaching out to position him at my entrance before it pushes inside me.
I can’t help but gasp, because Chase isn’t just long, he’s thick. The man has big dick energy for a reason.
