“Get rid of your shirt,” I order.
“No,” she bites back.
“I thought we talked about that. It’s ‘Yes, Chef.’”
“Make me,” she pants, already worked up from the fight, like it’s enough foreplay for her, and, shit, it probably is.
I swipe a finger through her folds to verify and, yep, she’s soaked.
That finger gets shoved into her mouth, deep enough to tickle her throat while she sucks it clean.
Mouth full so she can’t sass me back for once, I growl into her ear, “If I were you, I wouldn’t try to piss me off right before I fuck you for the first time. Your pussy is already going to get wrecked,bella.”
She bites down on my finger, hard enough to darken my eyes and thicken my cock.
When she lets go, her eyes sparkle with mischief that my monster will be only too happy to deliver on.
My words come out as a growl. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Hands at her collar, I rip her shirt open, exposing her chest, until the shreds of fabric fall off both her arms. She gasps, looking down at it, then back up at me.
Her bra is next, but it clasps in the front, so with a snap of my fingers, her breasts are free. One hand on her chest, I push her backward until she’s flat against the desk and I can hover over her.
My lips come down over one nipple and I suck, plucking at it with my teeth as she tries to pretend she couldn’t get off from this alone.
One finger teases her entrance as my teeth and tongue play, and she moans as I slip it in. Soaked, as I knew she’d be.
Smirking against her skin, I lift just enough to get my words out. “Your mouth can run all the lies it wants, Lexi. This pussy tells me the truth every time.”
My finger slides out, no resistance with all that moisture her body is offering me, begging me to put to use.
“Every part of me hates you,” she gasps, back arching as I take a deep pull on her other nipple.
“Feels like it,” I mumble against her breast, finger pressed to her clit, rubbing deep circles there, as her legs tremble around me. “Tell me, little liar, do you come for all the men you hate, or is it just me?”
“I don’t hate anyone the way I hate you.”
“That’s what makes this so good.”
It takes a lot of work, but I pull back from her nipples, even though they’re calling out for more attention, glistening in the low light coming in through the large windows overlooking Main Street.
Yanking off my chef jacket, I pull my undershirt off with one hand on the back of my collar, exposing all the ink on my chest and arms she was so fascinated by at my place.
Sure enough, her eyes heat and she props herself up on her elbows to get a better view.
“How many toys are you wearing out trying to pretend it’s me each night?” I ask her, pulling down my black chef pants.
“I don’t think of you at all,” she says, while her eyes don’t leave my bobbing cock and the piercing through the underside of the tip.
Kicking off my shoes, she notices them and her head lolls, groaning in an entirely different way. “I can’t believe I’m about to fuck someone who wears Crocs. This is a new low.”
“If you’re thinking about my shoes when I’m inside you, I’m failing you. The only thing you should be able to think about when I’m fucking you is the way my cock hits that spot in you that makes you wonder how you’re going to get your next breath.”
Stepping back to the edge of the desk, I run both hands up her legs, squeezing as I go, watching her flesh mold to my fingers as they travel up her thighs, her hips, her full stomach, and those breasts that live in my head around the clock.
Lexi pulls her legs up from where they’ve been hanging over the edge and plants her feet on the desk, knees bent, giving me one hell of a view. She lets her knees fall as far as they’ll go, until she’s spread wide.
“Hurry up and get this over with,” she says, breathless, like her pussy isn’t dripping on that desk because of me.
