She does so, circling his neck with her arms. He rolls his hips against her, pace picking up in rhythm. The slap of their skin combined with the sound of their filthy groans is music to her ears. He snaps his hips into her relentlessly, searching for more of that sweet friction. The bed creaks in protest beneath them, but they show no signs of slowing down.
“Fucking God, your pussy feels so good.”
“Fuck, I— Right there, oh God rightthere.”
“So nice and tight for me. Spread your legs wider—that’s it.”
Eden can feel herself growing tighter, hotter, brighter. She can hardly breathe, and her heart is racing a mile a minute. “I think—Fuck, I think I’m going to come again. I’m gonna—”
Alexander claims her mouth, tongue sweeping over hers as he pins both her wrists above her head against the pillow. He fucks her harder, claiming her, pushing her closer and closer toward climax. When it happens, she moans into his mouth, quaking beneath his weight. He finds release, too, his muscles tensing as he spills over.
They lie there together for a while, nothing but the sound of their combined panting to fill the silence.
Eden’s blissed out of her mind. “Wow,” she whispers.
“Good?”
She laughs softly. “Amazing,” she corrects.
“Come here,” he orders, scooping her up in his arms.
They kiss for a few minutes, or maybe it’s a few hours. Eden supposes it doesn’t much matter.
She can’t remember the last time she felt this complete.
“Alittle birdie told me they spotted you arriving to work in the Chef’s car today,” Rina teases, bumping her hip against Eden’s as they work together to prepare her mise. “What’s that about, hm?”
Eden shrugs, but it’s very difficult to keep a straight face. “We’re carpooling. Nothing wrong with carpooling, right?”
Rina sniffs the air. “And you both just so happen to use the same scented body wash now?”
“What are you, a bloodhound?”
“You’re not exactly denying it.”
“Less talk, more whipped cream.”
Rina giggles. “Oh, God. You’re even starting tosoundlike him.”
“What’s going on?” Freddie asks, sidling up beside them at the dessert station with a bin full of fresh strawberries.
“Eden and Alexander arecarpooling,” Rina explains with a suggestive pump of the eyebrows.
Freddie grins like the cat who got the cream. “Ooh, is that so?”
“You guys are being silly. Nothing’s going on.”
“Mm-hmm,” Rina says, though it’s very obvious that she doesn’t believe Eden in the slightest. “Can we expect little baby chefs running around any time soon? We can dress them up in cute little aprons and hats!”
Eden rolls her eyes. “Do you hear that? I think someone’s calling for me.”
Freddie frowns. “I didn’t hear anyth—”
“Bye!” she chirps over her shoulder, making a hasty exit towards the front of the line.
She goes about the rest of her opening duties, ensuring that everything is in its place and that the waitstaff know what substitutions are available in case guests aren’t interested in the house special.
She’s more than a little aware of Alexander’s presence the entire time. It’s like she has some invisible homing beacon on him. He’s always at the edge of her periphery, demonstrating to the saucier how he wants tonight’s gravy done or confirming the reservation of twenty with the maître-d’.
