Devour Me (Master Chefs Series #1)

by Gow, Kailin

  “Yes.” He popped open another jar. “Now you're really going to have to open wide.”

  Again, she just barely parted her lips.

  “You want to play it that way?” He pressed something cool and bitter to her lips, parting them further.

  Bitter, salty, tangy… she knew it had to be something that was marinated. As he slipped the ingredient further into her mouth, she realized how big it was… a pickle. Slowly he drove it to the back of her throat before gently pulling it back out.

  “You like that, don’t you?”

  Nodding, she slipped her tongue out and ran it along the pickle.

  “I’m starting to get jealous.”

  He pulled the pickle away and stood. Taryn heard the sound of fabric brushing against fabric then the clink of a belt buckle as it hit the floor. Errol opened another jar, then straddled her. She felt his skin against hers as his legs brushed against her hips.

  Slowly he crawled up until his knees were up to her arms. She knew what he was up to and anticipated his next move. The softness of his skin dipped in chocolate syrup brushed lightly against her lips. It could have been his finger, but she knew better. It was a part of him that she had come to crave in her in every way.

  After only a quick lick of the chocolate, she said, “Chocolate.”

  “Sure? Taste again.” He gently nudged his way into her mouth and she felt his budding arousal grow even harder while she sucked and teased him with her tongue.

  Pleased by his reaction, she licked all the chocolate off him, slowly until he was groaning. Then she continued sucking, taking him deep to the back of her throat.

  “God, Taryn,” Errol groaned. He began thrust slowly against her while she licked and sucked harder, enjoying the delicious taste of him filling her. He was a man through and through, and she appreciated and loved every part of him. Feeling him grow harder until he was like hard candy, she sucked in and out faster and faster until he had to pull out.

  “Okay,” he said between clenched teeth, “if you don’t stop, we won’t be able to get to the other items I have planned,” as he pulled back and got off her. “We’re jumping the gun a bit here.”

  He opened another jar, but instead of bringing it to her lips, he slathered the sticky liquid over her breasts. As he brought his lips over her breasts to lick her clean, his tongue circling her nipples over and over again until they were hard enough for him to suck on and kiss. He brought his mouth up to hers and kissed her, entwining his tongue with hers until she can taste the sweet honey that he had licked off of her breasts. Honey never tasted as sweet as when it came from his tongue. She sucked hard on his tongue, wanting more of him, wanting to taste the honey all over him. He brought his lips to kiss her nose and brow as he pulled the blindfold off her eyes.

  She watched him, amazed by his hunger and thrilled by his desire to touch her, taste her, devour her. She’d never seen him so enraptured, nor his hard naked body more magnificently aroused.

  When he’d licked her clean, he pulled back and looked at her, his eyes hooded and wicked. He grabbed her ankles and pulled her legs apart then lifted them straight up into the air. Licking his lips he looked down at the opening of her crotchless panties.

  “We’ll see how flexible you are, my young goddess.” He pushed her legs up toward her head until he was able to slip each foot under the lip of the table.

  Though increasingly aroused, she felt nonetheless vulnerable, spread eagle, with her ass, literally, up in the air. Errol gave her a sound slap on the butt then reached for an instrument of some kind on the table.

  “What’s that?” She tried to sound intrigued rather than fearful, but knew she failed.

  He cocked a wicked brow. “A new toy.”

  The object looked like an eight inch long pear with a sleek and smooth surface. He ran the fat end of the pear between her legs, from her back side up to her navel. Repeatedly, he passed the pear over her increasingly beckoning and moist lips.

  “You want to know what it’s going to feel like, don’t you.” Chuckling with deep arousal, Errol eased the pear-like object inside her.

  The size of the object scared her and for a moment she tensed up.

  “Ease up, Taryn. You’re going to love this.” He pushed it in deeper. Still holding on the end of the pear, he knelt back and looked down at her. “No matter how I look at you, you're so beautiful,” he growled, bending down to lick her wet folds, while moving the wand-like object around, causing different but deep sensations with each angle. Errol was right, this was heavenly. Her nipples puckered tighter, and her entire body clenched in the explosive sensations coming from Errol’s mouth, his hands, and the thrusting object in her. She gave an orgasmic cry before shuddering violently with pleasure.

  As the last wave of orgasm swept through her, he thrust deep into her, rocking along with her trembles until he came with a loud grunt, calling out “Taryn, my angel,” before he collapsed on top of her, kissing her deeply then tenderly against her jawline, her cheeks and her lips. “My sweet girl, that wasn’t that bad, wasn’t it?” He smiled a boyish sweet smile, happy to have found a new game to play with his playmate. “Let’s try it once again, only…” he pushed the pear-like head back into her, wiggled it, and bent his head down to lick her clit. He was devouring her to the point of climax when the lights suddenly went out.

  “Errol?” Instant panic swept through Taryn as total blackness engulfed her. “What’s going on?”

  “Don’t worry. It’s probably just a fuse or something.”

  She heard his receding footsteps. “Where are you going?”

  “Don’t move,” he said. “I wouldn’t want that thing to get lodged in there.”

  As he called his warning, the object sank deeper inside her. “Errol, I don’t like this.” She wanted desperately to release the hold her feet had on the table and lay her legs back on the floor, but she feared the consequences of the strange object inside her.

  From a short distance away, she heard him tap his knuckles against the glass of a window. “Looks like the whole neighborhood is out.”

  “Untie me, Errol. I don’t like this. I don’t want to do this anymore.” Taryn fought against the panic rising within her…the panic she had never told anyone before that she faced…total darkness.

  “Relax. It doesn’t change anything. You were blindfolded just a minute ago and you didn’t panic.”

  “I know, but this isn’t the same. Now you can’t see what you're doing, either. Besides, I don’t like have this thing…”

  “Take it easy, Taryn.” His footsteps sounded across the dining room floor and out toward the large storage closet by the front door.

  “Don’t leave me alone, Errol. Please.”

  “I’m just going to get a few candles. You know this might turn out to be even better than I’d planned.”

  Through the darkness she heard him rummage through boxes.

  “Hurry.”

  “Okay, I got them.”

  Taryn let out a hiss of stressed relief. Though she tried to stay calm, panic refused to stay at bay.

  “Now all we need is a lighter or match to…”

  A loud thud was followed by the even louder clamor of a dead drop.

  “Errol?”

  Silence clung to the darkness.

  “Errol!” Her loud pants of panic filled the room while the pounding of her heart thundered in her ears. In a brief moment of lucidity amidst her panic, she held her breath and listened for sounds of his breathing.

  Nothing. Her panic resumed.

  The blackness weighed down on her, collapsing over her and leaving her feeling trapped. Ignoring the possible consequences of moving her legs while the awful gadget was shoved up inside her, she put her legs on the floor and tried to think rationally.

  But rational thought escaped her as the need to free herself overpowered her. She struggled against the handcuffs, hoping the table legs would yield. They didn’t budge. In her struggles to get loose, she banged he
r fists against the floor, but noticed, a moment too late, that she’d inadvertently tightened the handcuffs around her wrists.

  “Errol!” she shouted into the abyss.

  Silence answered her back as she fought desperately against the dark.

  Chapter 21

  Errol’s first waking thoughts centered on the pounding headache that throbbed along the width of his forehead. “What the hell…?” He opened his eyes to the complete blackness that surrounded him, closed them again as he tried to understand what had happened then opened them again.

  After a few seconds of staring into nothingness, his memory slowly brought him to the moments just before he’d knocked himself out. Taryn… he’d handcuffed her, or was that just part of the fantasy he’d created?

  Sitting up, he held his head in his hands for a long moment. The initial throbbing along his brow had spread to envelope his entire head with a strange numbing sensation. His ears popped and he felt strangely congested. His jaw hurt, the dull jolts of pain driving up to his teeth. He felt as if his brain wanted to seep out of every orifice.

  He slowly got to his feet and stretched his hands out in front of him to find the nearest wall.

  “Taryn,” he softly called out. His voice reverberated in his head and he leaned into the wall for support. “Taryn.”

  A rage of bile rose to his throat as he remembered where he’d left her… and in what position. “Taryn!” Running his hands over the wall, he tried to imagine where he was. Then he remembered he’d gone to the storage closet for candles.

  Leaving the security of the wall, he stooped over and tapped the floor around him until he found the candles. Holding his hands blindly in front of him, he took slow careful steps until he touched the soft leather of his sofa. He followed the back of the sofa to the end table and opened the small drawer hoping to find a lighter. Aside from a pad of paper, a few pens and an old remote control, there was nothing. He went on a few paces until he came to a chair set at the end of his dinner table. Among the objects there, he knew there was a box of long stick matches. Searching with his hands, he finally found it, slipped it open and pulled out a match.

  The instant he struck it to a flame, he saw Taryn lying limp under the table, one wrist still handcuffed to the table, while the other…bruised, with the handcuff still on, but free from its chain. Taryn had managed to break the link to free herself. Errol’s heart sank.

  Immediately dropping to his knees, he caressed her cheek. “Taryn, baby. I’m here Taryn. Everything’s going to be all right.” He kissed her forehead, her lips, and her wrists. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t know. I couldn’t get back in time…”

  The dry tracks of tears streaked down across her face as she stared blindly up at the underside of the table. Beads of sweat trickled down either side of her forehead and a red welt showed where she’d smashed her head against the floor.

  “Taryn,” he said as he gently shook her shoulder.

  She turned away from him.

  “I’m sorry, baby. I was only gone a minute.” In truth, he had no idea how long he’d really been out. “I’m here now.” He gulped back tears. “I’m so sorry…”

  Taryn couldn’t even move at first, she could only rock back and forth, her naked arms around herself, trying to keep from shuddering. Being chained in pitched black…it was her worst nightmare, but one that seemed like a distant memory. Something she couldn’t remembered because it happened when she was so young. She couldn’t remember; she had no energy for that.

  She only knew that her body had a memory, and it was deathly afraid of what went on in pitch black darkness.

  And if Chef Errol King was aroused by that, liked playing games in the dark, then she knew what she had to do.

  Epilogue

  Charles-de-Gaulle airport faded to nothing as the plane took off, leaving Paris far, far behind. Her dreams for the future, her new love, her sexual apprenticeship… all abandoned. Taryn stared out the window as the plane pierced through the clouds that hovered over the city of lights. The sun shined brilliantly against a sky of pure blue.

  She would have preferred to remain in the murky grays of the dense clouds.

  The decision had been difficult, but in the end, she knew it was the only one she could live with. Errol had shown, beyond her darkest nightmares, how heartless and brutal he could be. He’d proven himself to be worse than the rumors she’d so often heard about him.

  “Coffee? Café?” the flight attendant said as he rolled a cart down the aisle. “Brioche?”

  She nodded and reached out for a cup. “Café. Merci.”

  Like a moth to a flame, his gaze landed on the scars on her wrist and he offered her a quick and sympathetic nod.

  Taryn concentrated her gaze on her coffee and quickly pulled the cuff of her blouse over the red rings that encircled her wrists; reminders of her struggle against the handcuffs. While her blouse hid a good portion of the marks left on her skin, it didn’t manage to hide the scratches and scraped that went halfway up the back of her hands, some of which had turned a nasty shade of blue.

  Thankfully, the flight to New York was only half booked. Not only had it allowed her to get a seat at the last minute, but she also had the luxury of having an empty seat beside her. One less person to look quizzically at the scars she bore.

  She leaned back against the headrest and looked outside. Why did it have to come to this? she wanted to say to Errol. Why did you have to push me too far? Why did you leave me there alone to freak out in the dark? It was my first time in handcuffs… you must have known how insecure I already felt about that. Why does loving you have to be filled with so much pain? Perhaps she should have stayed around and asked him that point blank. Either too cowardly or too shook up by the events of the night before, she’d chosen the easy way out, and had packed her bags and left in the dark of night.

  Closing her eyes, she immediately saw his face and a pang of regret tugged at her heart. It was inconceivable. How could she have let herself fall in love with such a man? He was all passion, all consuming, so much more experienced in life and sex than her. He was the kind of man, any woman would lose their minds over. Being with him was like being in the middle of a tornado, safe but wildly dangerous at the same time. One move out of the center, could rip her to shreds.

  In love? Could she truly be in love with him? He was a brute, an arrogant know-it-all and a jealous freak all rolled into one. What was there to love?

  That boyish grin when they worked together. The joyous gleam in his eyes when he looked at her. The tender touch of his hands all over her body.

  Is that enough?

  Clearly not, she answered herself.

  And your diploma?

  “It can wait until later,” she muttered.

  “Pardon?”

  Taryn opened her eyes and looked at the flight attendant who was on his way back with his empty cart. “Sorry. Nothing.”

  He grinned and continued on.

  The flight seemed endless as Taryn tried to find ways to keep her mind occupied. Sleep was out of the question. The moment she closed her eyes, all she could see was Errol, and in the one brief dream she’d slipped into, he was naked and glorious as he reached out to pull her into his arms. She had slept with him almost every night since she had arrived in Paris…how could her body leave his warmth, his touch, the soft kisses, and the fiery passion?

  She flipped through a few magazines, but nothing interested her. Even a popular cooking magazine with recipes that might have otherwise interested her could not hold her attention. She looked out the window… same clear blue sky, only the sun was in a different place.

  A sigh escaped her as she tried to imagine the conversation she would have with her mother once she got home. Only an hour remained before the cityscape she knew so well came into view.

  Her mother would be furious. And how could Taryn explain it? She had no idea.

  The seatbelt light came on, and soon JFK came into view. Taryn took the soft a
nd gentle landing as a good omen. She took her bag out of the overhead compartment and breathed a strangled sigh of relief as she left the plane.

  She was on her home turf now… safe, secure… predictable.

  Before she reached the end of the terminal, she turned her phone on to call her mother. Instead, her phone beeped out its signal of an oncoming text message.

  Her hand shook. It had to be him, but did she want to know what he said? There was nothing he could say; nothing he could do. It was over.

  She stopped walking and stood there while passengers filed left and right of her. A few grumbled and groaned, but only when a large New Yorker with an attitude demanded she move aside did she realize where she was. Muttering an apology, she walked out of the terminal and harbored in a quiet corner.

  After a moment of hesitation, she checked her phone to see there were seven texts. She’d just barely boarded the plane when Errol had sent the first one.

  Where are you?

  It was so typical of him. She was distraught and confused and he was just angry to see she wasn’t there where she was supposed to be. Five minutes later, he sent the next text.

  I see you’ve packed your things. Did you go off with that Henri kid? You know how I feel about that. Are you trying to run me off a cliff with jealousy?

  “Way to go, Errol. Just keep digging yourself in deeper,” Taryn muttered. The next text was sent fifteen minutes later.

  Just talked to Henri and he said he has no idea where you are. Where are you?

  Two minutes.

  I know last night was difficult for you. Believe me, I never intended to traumatize you. If you left because of that, you have to come back. Let me make it up to you. You know I’d never hurt you. Taryn, please.

  Thirty seconds.

  Answer me, Taryn!

  Ten seconds.

  Sorry, Taryn. I just can't believe you're gone. Are you heading back home? Go to New York? How could you do that? And leave everything behind? Me? Your diploma? What are you thinking, Taryn? Please, just let me know where you are. Let me know you're okay. I never meant to hurt you. Please see me.