I see the sincerity in his eyes. He doesn’t just want me for my body or easy sex. The warm voice in my heart tells me that Julian truly does wantme.
Turning my head back toward the bowl in front of me, I continue whisking. There’s a tremble in my hands as I wait, wondering if he’ll take the bait and come do to me all those wonderful and sexy things Archer just described.
The metal sound of the whisk hitting the bowl overpowers anything else in the room, so when Julian’s chest brushes up against my back, it takes me by surprise, and I gasp.
My hand stills and I freeze, waiting for his next move.
“Don’t stop,” he whispers. “Keep going.”
Slowly, I proceed with making the cream for the strawberries. Julian brushes my hair to one side, and when his lips find my neck, chills run down my spine. With trembling hands, I reach for the honey.
Julian’s fingers touch the hem of my dress and gently lift it, letting the warm air breeze along the backs of my thighs and ass. His lips kiss harder along my neck, causing me to moan while fidgeting to unscrew the cap off the jar.
Between his hard body, prowling fingers, and fierce lips, my mind can hardly keep up. He wants me to make dessert? What dessert? What was I even doing?
I somehow manage to continue putting together the pieces of this dish with absolutely no brainpower at all. Julian glides his fingers along the inside of my thigh, the cool metal of his rings making me shiver but never letting me stop.
It’s clear to me now that he’s doing this to prove a point. Hewants me to see how good this could be. How it’s about so much more than sex and getting off.
Howintimateit is.
It feels suddenly as if Julian and I are the only two people in the room, or rather in the world. His touch brings us together, makes us one.
When he slides his hand around to the front of my thighs, working up to the top, where I’ve completely soaked my panties, I drop the whisk entirely and fall backward into his arms.
Julian’s fingers find their way in between the fabric and my body, slipping through the pooled mess of my arousal and plunging inside me.
“Is this okay?” he whispers darkly, his voice like velvet.
“Yes.” I let out a pathetic moaning sound and clutch his arm for support.
“God, you feel good,” he murmurs in my ear, the deafening sound of his growly voice causing goose bumps to erupt over every inch of my flesh.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper, pressing my hips forward to chase the sensation of his touch.
“Don’tyoustop,” he replies, teasing me with a hint of playfulness.
I groan in protest before opening my eyes and reaching for the whisk. As I resume stirring the cream cheese and squeezing a bit of lime juice into the mixture, Julian stands flush against my body, his hand up my dress and his finger deep inside me.
I can hardly stand, let alone put together something edible. Thankfully, I already carved out the centers of the strawberries earlier, because I don’t think I’m fit to be handling a paring knife in this state. Somehow, I manage to bag the contents of the bowl without making too much of a mess.
His lips don’t stop nibbling on my neck, and his hand is relentless, plunging in and out, bringing me to the verge of release before backing off and torturing me some more.
Clipping the tip off the corner of the bag, I fill the first strawberry while he continues to toy with me. And I think for a moment that I might actually get through this.
But then Julian pulls his hand from my core and drops to his knees behind me.
“What are you do—” I ask, but the moment he lifts my dress, tears down my underwear, folds me forward, and buries his face between my thighs, I forget what I was about to say.
A loud gasping, moaning sound escapes my lips, and I drop a strawberry on the floor. Julian’s mouth is ravenous. I grip the counter and shout his name as he continues to lick and suck, jerking my hips backward farther so he can reach my sex at a better angle.
It’s like heaven. I’ve completely given up on the dessert as I savor the feel of his tongue plunging inside me. I know it won’t be long before he reminds me that I have to keep working, so I pick up the bag and try to fill one of the carved strawberries with the mascarpone.
It’s a mess, by no means the caliber of my work, but then again, my standards for cooking aren’t usually derailed by getting eaten out in the kitchen. So I guess I can give myself a pass this one time.
My hands are trembling and my orgasm is imminent as I finish filling the last strawberry, arranging it delicately on the platter. Somewhere behind me, I know Archer is watching this, and I wonder what he’s thinking. Is he feeling left out? Is he enjoying the show? Is it his turn next?
With a growling sound, Julian grows frustrated, seemingly from my lack of release. I let out a yelp as he spins me around, slamming my back against the counter as he attaches his mouth to my clit from the front, groaning loudly as he sucks the sensitive bud. By the way he’s ravenously devouring me, I can tell he’s doing this for his own pleasure as much as mine. He’s basking in the taste and scent of my sex, moaning like an animal as he indulges in my most intimate area.
