by Chloe Cole
Thank God, he worked on automatic pilot cutting pieces of crepe, scooping up bits of raspberry compote. Feeding her. His mind remained solely focused on the fact he could slide his fingers against the plump lips of her pussy at any time. A war raged within him; the chef ensured she found oral satisfaction while the man in him wanted her sexual satiation.
Before he knew it, there were only crumbs on the plate.
“That was delicious. But you already knew that, huh?” Saffron asked as she realized she'd eaten it all. “What about you though? Aren't you hungry?”
August kept looking at her lips. Unable to help himself, he growled, “Starving.” Adding credence, he captured her lips and devoured them.
The fresh taste of berries burst upon his tongue when he parted her mouth with it. Saffron matched him stroke for stroke, soft moans and encouraging whimpers driving him. Making good on an unspoken promise, August tugged on the panties still in his hand. She arched her body, helping him, wriggling out of the material until they were nothing more than scraps around her ankles.
Her hands clasped onto the front of his jacket before she made short work of his buttons, unfastening each. He could scarcely breathe for the need choking him as she pushed the material away from his chest. “Liebling,” he groaned. English escaped him. Words vanished.
Saffron pulled away, breathing hard. She placed a finger on his lips, sensing the frenzy overtaking him. “Shh... Let me.”
He was panting, but August went still. He clamped his jaw down, tightening until it pained him, but he found his patience again.
And it was fucking worth it.
Saffron stood in the centimeters of space he'd left her and with the grace of a ballerina pushed down the straps of her dress. Chin elevated, she slowly revealed herself, inch by creamy inch of skin. From the freckles decorating her chest, to the rose-blushed tips of her ample breasts and down farther to the rounded flesh of her belly, August stood enthralled as it all came into view. If anyone asked him if he'd managed to breathe during any of it, he wouldn't be able to say. All he knew was the glory being uncovered before him and the pounding of his heartbeat.
Hands on hips, Saffron canted her head to the side. “So…about that spatula?”
“Turn around,” he forced through a tight throat.
She twirled slowly, a vision in heels and hose, and rested her hands on the island. With a husky voice, she asked, “What now?”
August picked up the spatula, sticky in spots from raspberry compote and moved behind her. Letting her anticipation build, he studied the slender shape of her calves, the dimples behind her knees, the delicious fullness of her thighs. He admired the heart-shape of her buttocks and the feminine contour of her hips.
“Well?”
“So impatient,” he murmured. His hand went to the slope of her ass, rubbing its round form. Saffron watched him from over her shoulder, teeth biting into her kiss-swollen bottom lip.
She cried out the moment his hand slapped one cheek. August offered her soothing words, circling his palm against the warm spot he created. “Are you alright?” he asked gently.
She blew out a breath. “Yes.” Her head fell forward, her face turning away from him, but August heard her next whispered words. “Again, please.”
Yes!
His cock hardened into steel when he smacked the other side, not with a lot of force. Just the sound of his palm striking soft flesh enough to make his balls tighten. He struck each side twice more before reaching for the spatula. Saffron’s sultry cries turned into sexy moans of approval when he modified the spanking with the kitchen tool. Her ass glowed in sexy pink stripes, dotted with dark spots of raspberry compote.
August growled as he dropped to his knees, his sights on the raspberry speckles. He didn’t stop to think when he opened his mouth over one dark temptation. He simply gave in and let his tongue run over every single dribble of raspberry he could find.
“August!” she yelled. Surprise and encouragement.
Heat and fruit filled his mouth, while the sweet taste of Saffron overruled it all. His hands massaged away the sting of his assault, but August let his tongue make up for it.
She widened her stance and August was rewarded with the first taste of her pussy. Damn, he thought the raspberries had been sweet. Her juices were that much sweeter.
He couldn't say how long he kneeled behind her, lapping at her essence. Teasing her with his tongue. The little bud of her clit was swollen, pink and glistening, but he avoided touching it. When he was ready—when he had her primed—he'd suckle it until shivers traveled through every part of her body.
“Turn,” he ordered with a grunt. Using the back of his hand, he wiped the moisture from his mouth, tempted to lick it away like an animal.
“I don't think I can feel my legs,” Saffron said, with a small laugh.
As he stood, he offered his hand, pleased when she took it. “I'll take that as a compliment.”
“Of course it's a compliment. You have to be the most humble man I have ever met.”
Whatever he might have said next tumbled from his mind when she faced him. He loved looking at the lushness of her body. The softness of her curves. A slight blush covered her chest. Her pink nipples were hard, tight buds. The dip of her bellybutton only added to the sensuality of her body. Only the triangle of downy hair at the junction of her thighs could pull him away from gazing above her waist.
“Christ Jesus, where have you been?” he said, reverence in every word. How had he not met this woman before? Whatever fate brought her to his restaurant tonight, he'd thank while on his knees later.
Saffron crooked a finger at him before tapping her lips with it. “Right here.”
He flicked open the button at his waist before lowering the zipper. If he didn't provide some more space in his trousers soon, his dick would strangle. He was hard and aching. Beyond ready to sink into her. But he took a minute to slip off his shirt before walking into her embrace. Just one more kiss. One more taste of her lips that he had to have.
Chapter Six
Saffron's mouth went dry when August removed his shirt. The man might have spent his days cooking and eating, but every night must have been at the gym. She didn't look at perfection, but something damned close to it.
She loved the spread of hair on his chest and the flatness of his abdomen. The muscles of his biceps drew her attention and the strength of his forearms. Somehow in a ten-second sweep, she managed to take all of that in, filling her eyes during every moment.
How had she managed to be here with him? The night started one way and against every odd, went in a completely opposite direction. The celebrity chef and the journalist. No one would ever believe it. She hardly believed it herself.
Then August kissed her again.
Her arms went around him, the reality of the moment easing her doubts. Despite her concern, there was no mistaking the evidence of his arousal pressing against her belly. His hands skimmed over her body as if in admiration, as if he was the one who didn't believe they were here together. He touched her breasts, her tummy, her ass. He slipped a hand between her thighs and Saffron tilted her hips toward him.
He kept stoking a fire in her. Teasing her with light touches and barely there caresses when what she needed was a rough touch. Kind of like the spanking he'd given her. It was insane that such a primitive act could turn her on, but damn, she’d been well on her way to coming.
“More,” Saffron demanded. “Harder.”
“My pleasure, Madame,” he murmured in reply.
Instead of the more forceful strokes between her legs that she expected, August went to his knees again. He dragged his touch down the front of her body and Saffron gasped. The momentary sting of pressure subtly eased into tingling pleasure. But before she could focus on the sensations bombarding her body, her concentration narrowed to one place.
Where August had just placed his mouth.
Her legs buckled as his very talented tongue swirled around her s
wollen clit. But then August held on to her thighs, keeping her aloft. Forcing her to endure his assault.
“Oh!” She threw her head back, caught up in blinding sensation. Her breath caught, a gasp the only additional sound she could make. August slid a finger into her pussy, curling it against a sweet spot. He used his mouth to pull more pleasure to her clit. Overwhelmed by the twin sparks, she shuddered.
“That’s it, liebling. Come for me,” August murmured.
Oh God. So close. So very close to tipping...
Saffron cried out as an orgasm loomed somewhere in her subconscious and then swept in, larger than life and seized her in its hold. All of her muscles stiffened, yet she shuddered uncontrollably. While waves crashed into her, keeping her immobile. August whispered against her pussy. Sexy sounds and encouraging commands. Insistence that she come again for him. And again.
Her pussy squeezed rhythmically around his fingers, cream from her body coating the inside of her thighs. He hissed, “Yes!”
“August, please,” she panted through tightened lips. She didn't know if she could stand any more. If she would be able to stay upright as her body went boneless before him.
His fingers, his tongue, both nice but not what she wanted. What she needed. She'd felt the hard evidence of his cock. Assessed the girth and length of him and knew it would be pleasing to feel him inside her body. It's why her pussy pulsed now.
August stood, his fingers still moving in and out. Slowly, ever so slowly, allowing her tightened muscles to relax. “Please?”
She licked her dry lips. “I can't. I need...” Her mind was a whir.
His thumb flicked over her clit and Saffron's hips rolled of their own volition. “I know what you need, liebling. Let me take care of you.”
Panting, she nodded. “Please.”
He seemed to like the sound of that, humming a soft noise as she bucked while his fingers slid from her body. He brought two glistening digits to his mouth and, looking into her eyes, sucked her juices from them. “So very, very good. I will feast from you again, pretty Saffron.”
Able to think a little again, she teased, “You sound very sure of yourself.”
“Type A.”
As if that explained it all.
“Come with me,” he continued. August held out his hand and Saffron took it. Little shock waves still spread like ripples on a lake, but she no longer felt in danger of collapsing at his feet. Still, it wouldn't hurt to walk hand-in-hand with him.
“Where are we going?” she asked as they left the bright lights of his previously spotless kitchen. They’d abandoned a heap of her clothes and a few of his were strewn about the floor.
Her heels clicked against the stone flooring as they moved down a long hallway. Apparently comfortable in the dark, August didn’t bother with lights. By what she could discern from the glow left behind by the kitchen, they walked past simple furniture. The sound of trickling water echoed around them, but Saffron couldn’t locate its origin. Not that it mattered. If her concerns were right—and she suspected they were—August was leading them to his lair.
August released her hand as they walked through a doorway and Saffron stood still. A few seconds and a gentle click later, a soft light illuminated the room.
She stood amazed at his bedroom. The king-sized bed in the center of the room made his kitchen seem mundane. There were no less than six pillows propped against a large wooden headboard and the sheets looked so crisp they could have been ironed minutes ago. A folded comforter lay draped across the foot of the bed, but the plush material was piled high enough that it could have been a pillow instead.
Once again, the immaculate state of his home made her wonder, but here, the rich colors he’d chosen to fall asleep with and awaken to every day similarly impressed her. A deep burgundy carpeting and dark wood furniture stood in direct competition with the gray linen, striped with more burgundy.
“I’m sorry it’s such a mess,” August grumbled.
She almost rolled her eyes until she spied the single empty wine glass next to a closed paperback on the bedside table. “Thank God.” Her relief swelled. “I was starting to really worry about you. At least now I know you shouldn’t be institutionalized somewhere.”
“Institutionalized?” He laughed.
“What single guy is as obsessively neat as you are? This place is straight out of a magazine. Well, except that scandalous dirty wine glass over there.” Saffron stuck out her tongue, teasing him.
August crossed the room in short order. “I’ve got a better use for that tongue, woman. On the bed and I’ll show you.”
Heart pounding, blood racing, Saffron kicked off her shoes, slipped off her hose and climbed onto the bed. At once grateful for letting her hair grow out, she “accidentally” fanned it against the spread of his pillows, hoping it made for an enticing scene as she laid down. Her eyes went wide though, when she spied August standing at the foot of the bed, his black slacks falling down his slender body.
What held her enthralled and made her mouth water was a magnificent cock pointing straight up and landing against his belly.
Damn hell.
Never before ashamed of her numerous lumps and bumps, watching August crawl forward, muscles rippling, she was aware of every single inch of her own body. Consumed by the impulse to have him touch or lick her everywhere. Where she was soft and pillowy, he epitomized masculinity.
On second thought, forget trying to look enticing. That meant having to wait until he came to her.
Saffron got to her knees and met August halfway. “Come here,” she purred at him. “Kneel.”
The smile he returned was very compliant. She licked her lips and leaned down to capture her prize.
“Fuck, yes,” he groaned. August's hands pushed into her hair the moment her mouth opened over the crown of his cock. A slightly salty-sweet tease of pre-cum pearled at the tip and she greedily swallowed it down, ready for more. He pushed forward a little, encouraging her to take him fully, and Saffron relaxed her throat. She ran her tongue beneath the rigid length, intent on tasting every inch of him.
She eased back a little and peered up at his expression. Still, her head dipped, pushing down until she couldn't take any more, before pulling away in a slow tease. With every motion, August's closed eyes fluttered, his breath shuddering out. His fingertips threaded between the lengths of her hair before he finally took control, directing her movement.
But no matter how he tempted her to suck him harder or faster, Saffron took her time. Coaxing sexy noises out of him he probably didn't even know he made.
She was so wet, the scent of her body's natural perfume filling the room, but she could wait another few minutes. She wanted to push him to the edge of his control. To the very limit.
Her hand cupped the weight of his testicles, gently rolling him when August groaned again. She swallowed and was gifted with another taste of his pre-cum. By now, his pelvis rocked back and forth, urging her to take more. She fisted his cock, sliding up and down, getting him closer.
A bead of sweat trickled down the side of her face and she knew she must have been flushed pink from exertion. From excitement.
A small smile played on her lips as she felt him shudder. August might be the master of his domain when he stood in the kitchen, but right now, he was putty in her hands.
“You’re killing me,” he muttered, looking down at her.
“Good,” she whispered before taking him into her mouth again.
August’s hips rocked faster and this time Saffron let him take over. He ran together a series of curse words, some in English, others presumably in German. All of them muttered just under his breath.
She reached for his back, reveling in the strong muscles there, before sliding her hands to his ass. Feeling the muscles bunch and flex as he pushed forward and withdrew.
Her jaw ached, her eyes watered, but pure womanly pride kept her on her knees.
“Saffron, wait...” He panted and she felt him pull b
ack.
No way. She followed him, keeping them connected. Sucking harder. The wet sounds amplifying into the air.
He dripped into her mouth steadily now. If the back-to-back shudders meant anything, his loss of control was on an inevitable collision course.
A single fingernail stroked down the center of his testicles and August swore again.
Immediately on its heels, the sound of chiming bells filled the air.
“What?” she cried, pulling away.
“No!” he shouted, simultaneously. August gasped for breath, his eyes dark, his chest heaving. “God damn it, that felt incredible, but I bet that’s our food.”
“That was the doorbell? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He vaulted from the bed, scooping up the discarded pants on his way toward the doorway. “I promised to feed you properly. Just stay there. Don’t move.” He turned and gave her a sweetly seductive smile. “I’ll be right back.”
Saffron groaned, flopping backwards onto the bed.
Chapter Seven
He made good on his promise, returning only a few minutes later. He stopped in the doorway holding a white paper bag in white hand, the other moving to the waist of his slacks.
Saffron lay in repose on his bed, hair fanned, her gaze trained on the doorway. She wanted to see his initial reaction at encountering her and wasn’t disappointed.
“Have any problems with the delivery boy?” she asked innocently.
There was an audible intake of breath.
“Christ,” he whispered. August remained glued to the spot, riveted at the vision she made.
With deliberate intent, Saffron ran her fingers over her breasts. Pulling on the very tips. Rolling her nipples. She snaked one hand over her belly, over the mound of her pussy. From where he stood, August had a perfect vantage point to watch her play with her swollen lips and hard clit between legs spread for his viewing pleasure.
He swallowed hard, still standing motionless in the doorway. “The food will get cold.”
