“‘If more of us valued food and cheer above hoarded gold, it would be a much merrier world.’ J.R.R. Tolkien.”
Ooh, he was a smarty. Lips pursed, I pondered for a moment. “‘Everything’s better dipped in chocolate.’ Elle Connor.”
Kevin unsnapped the front of my bra. Clever boy sure knew how to make me hush right up and pay attention.
“Not this,” he murmured then closed his lips around a tight nipple.
He was so, so right. Nothing should come between Kevin’s mouth and my skin. Not clothing, not food, not air. His tongue swirled, his teeth grazed, and I tried not to squirm. I did moan, sliding my hand around the back of his neck to try and hold him there. He shifted his attention to my other breast, and my legs wrapped around his hips all on their own. Handy counter this was, and the perfect height. Hip height. Fucking height.
He pulled away, but continued to stare thoughtfully at my breasts. Then, like he’d made a snap decision, he said, “Lie back.” I let go another hiss when my skin made contact with the icy metal surface. “Stretch your arms above your head.” I did that too. Kevin circled around to the opposite side of the counter and tied my wrists together with my discarded apron, then secured it to something on the cabinet below.
I chewed my lip. “Um, Kevin…”
He leaned over and kissed me, upside down just like in the Spiderman movie, which I’d always wanted to try, except not in the rain. It was strange at first, yet still unbelievably sexy. Damn, he had me rattled.
“Can we please lock the door?” I asked when he broke the kiss.
“Of course.”
He switched off a few lights while he was at it and dropped the shades over the windows. We weren’t on the ground floor, but still, I didn’t have any exhibitionist tendencies. Apparently, neither did he.
He stripped off his white jacket and tossed it aside, leaving him in a plain black T-shirt, jeans, and boots. The tattoos that I’d only gotten peeks at up to this point went all the way up his left arm and disappeared under his shirtsleeve.
“More,” I said, eager to see equal amounts of bared flesh.
“In a minute.”
“Can we use an egg timer on that?”
Kevin picked up a humongous butcher knife. I almost peed my panties. The terrifying thoughts that flooded my head nearly made my brain explode. He grinned wickedly while he deftly spun the knife around a finger like a gunslinger. “Got your attention, didn’t I?”
“You’ve had my attention for quite some time,” I admitted in a whisper.
“Is that so?”
“Yes.” Because you shouldn’t lie to someone holding a butcher knife above your tied up and practically naked body.
The back edge of the blade made a slow pass across my quivering stomach. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m not going to filet you. I just want you to focus.”
“Oh. Well, I have a bit of ADD, if you hadn’t gathered that already.”
That made him laugh out loud, and the sound made me smile in return. “I would’ve never guessed.” He grabbed an artichoke from the basket. “I suffered from it too before I started cooking. It helps you to concentrate when you have something that genuinely interests you. Any hobbies?”
I watched him place the ugly green thing on a cutting board and whack the top half of it off with that giant-ass knife. Thankfully, he set it aside, but in its place he began picking up the severed leaves of the artichoke, touching the ends of each with a fingertip.
I frowned. Here I lay, almost naked and completely willing, and he was playing with food instead of me. Then I remembered he’d asked me a question. Hobbies. Oh, yes. “I draw.”
“Are you any good?”
This conversation was making me lose my sex buzz. “I guess.”
Kevin smiled and positioned himself between my knees, leaning over my body. “Am I boring you, Elle?”
“No, I was just—Ow!” Something sharp poked me in the hip. “What the hell was that?”
He held up the artichoke leaf. “The artichoke is getting its revenge. Hold very still.”
I tried. I really, really did. But it was hard not to flinch when Kevin used the point on the leaf to scratch his name across my stomach. It hurt, but not to the point of real, tear-inducing pain, and by the time he reached the bottom of the “V,” I was already feeling the little endorphin rush. I kept craning my neck up to watch as each letter turned into a swollen, pink welt. I barely knew this man, and I’d let him tie me up and scratch his name into my skin.
And I didn’t care. He’d marked me, with a vegetable no less, and I secretly wanted to take a picture of it and share it on Facebook, or a billboard downtown. I wanted to call up my brother Brian, a brilliant tattoo artist, and have him ink over it so it became permanent.
When Kevin was finished there, he used it on my nipples. I bit my lip to keep from crying out at the first sharp prick, but then Kevin covered me with his mouth and his talented tongue soothed away the sting. Over and over he did this, until I was anticipating the pain then craving the pleasure, until I was arching my back in a silent request for him to suck me deeper and harder.
The air conditioning in the room was working overtime, yet I was covered in a fine sheen of perspiration when he finally tossed the leaf away. His palm made a slow pass down my belly, the salt in my sweat making the inscription burn back to life, before his thumb slid under the front of my panties. My eyes drifted closed, and inside my head I chanted,
“Lower, lower, lower. Touch me, please. Lower, yes, more, more, more. Oh my fucking God, Kevin Lattimore is about to touch my pussy!”
And then he did, and pleasure chased the surreal wonderment away. A potent, delicious reality took its place.
I was so wet it was shameful, but I’d long since abandoned embarrassment for the thrill of the experience. There was a very good possibility this would be a one-time thing, both of us acting on an urge, and for me a fantasy, so I was going to enjoy it immensely while it lasted. Christ, was I enjoying that thumb, rubbing my needy clit in lazy circles, aiding the climb.
Just when I was certain I was about to come, he’d move his finger to a less sensitive spot, and the pleasure would recede like a wave rolling out to sea. I swallowed a plea for mercy—he would only ignore it anyway. Clearly Kevin liked to be in control, if my bound hands were any indication. I would come when he wanted me to, not the other way around. That in itself was an incredible turn-on.
Instead of using my voice to beg, I tried doing it with my body, canting my hips in a not-so-subtle hint. I watched his teeth catch his bottom lip as he slid two fingers inside me. I couldn’t stop the cry that left my throat any more than I could stop the orgasm that finally, mercifully, broke, helped along I suspect by his unorthodox brand of foreplay.
Kevin said something, but I couldn’t make it out over the buzz in my bloodstream and my panting breaths. With a deep sigh, I cracked an eyelid to find him smiling softly, his eyes nearly black as he watched me.
I mumbled a ridiculous “thank you” before he covered my mouth in a long, thorough kiss. He took his sweet time, which surprised me. This is usually the part of the program where the guy is ripping open a condom with record speed. Instead, Kevin rained kisses over my jaw, down to my neck, where he licked at the stickiness from the candy necklace. My stomach and hipbones received generous consideration too. The journey ended with a sharp nip of his teeth on the inside of my thigh before he stripped my panties down my legs.
“Are you ever gonna take some clothes off?” I asked.
His attention had wandered over to the countertop again. The erection straining behind his fly looked painful, and yes, promising, but he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to do anything about it.
He must have a
lot
of sex to be able to hold out for this long without relief, or at the very least, he masturbated frequently. But then that theory hadn’t held water for me at all. Some nipple play and a few strokes of his thumb and I’d shamelessly gone off like a bottle rocket.
“Patience, Elle. We’re working on your ability to focus, remember?”
“Yes, but—”
“And I’m going to teach you to respect the power of the kitchen if it kills me.”
OK, I couldn’t help it, I giggled. “Respect the power of the kitchen?”
He grabbed a strange-looking gadget from a vase that held a cluster of utensils and tapped it against his palm. It made a faint, metallic-clacking sound. I didn’t like that devious smile on his mouth. “You’ll understand eventually. How are your arms? Hands aren’t going numb, are they?”
I wiggled around a bit, flexing my fingers. “No, I’m good.” The stainless steel tabletop had since warmed to my body temperature. My shoulders ached a little, but I had absolutely no right to complain. Not when he could pass out any minute from blood loss to the brain.
“Kevin, aren’t—” The thing he held in his hand squeezed around my nipple. “Ooh, hello.” Much, much nicer than the artichoke leaf. “Whatcha got there, Chef?”
He trailed it back and forth across my breasts before holding it up for me to see. “What does it look like?”
“Possibly a whisk, except…smaller. And with some form of growths on the ends.”
Kevin rolled his eyes. “God, Elle, you really are clueless in the culinary arts department, aren’t you?”
“You honestly need me to answer that after watching me flail like a landed fish for two entire classes?” I asked, my face heating for some weird reason.
He sighed then kissed me. It had to be one of the most deliciously filthy kisses I’d ever gotten, deep and carnal, his mouth tasting mine like I was made of the finest dark chocolate. When he lifted his head, I’d forgotten what we were discussing.
“I’m sorry.” He looked exactly the opposite.
“No, you’re not. And I want to touch you so badly I can hardly stand it.”
“I’ll untie you in a bit, I promise.” Another slow, thorough kiss that made me whimper it was so good. This time even he looked as though he was ready to give up and just fuck me stupid. He cleared his throat as though he was getting ready to teach the class. “This is called a ball whisk, aptly named for the small, round objects located on the ends of its prongs. It’s used primarily for whipping things like eggs.” His gaze slid to my face.“ You would’ve gotten a chance to use it in class tonight when we made the soufflés.”
This was the spot where the apology came in, and I was honestly contrite. “Yeah, about that remark I made…I’m truly sorry, Kevin. I lack a filter sometimes, as you can tell. It’s a real problem. Gets me into trouble constantly with my family and friends, what few I have left.”
He shook his head. “It’s fine. I didn’t have to cancel class like I did, but I wanted to get you alone.”
I tried to ignore the way my heart fluttered beneath my sternum like a trapped wild bird. It was no use. A sad little flame of hope flickered to life. “So you could teach me a lesson?”
“Maybe.” The whisk closed around my nipple again. Kevin compressed the prongs until the tension got so tight the pinch made me try to pull away. “Don’t resist. It’ll hurt worse. Breathe through it, wait and see what happens.”
“Methinks you’re a bit of a sadist, Chef.”
He grinned slyly, an acknowledgment if there ever was one, and switched the whisk to my other breast. The tiny round balls were smooth to the touch as he brushed them over the thin, sensitive skin. Just as I’d fall into the pleasant sensation, he’d use it to pinch my nipple again. Pain sharpened to a fine point then morphed into something else, something warm and narcotic, almost mimicking an illicit drug rushing through my veins. It was intoxicating and addictive. I could see how people became pain addicts. It was the rawness of it, the honesty. You couldn’t hide from it. You couldn’t run away. So I gave in and let it pull me under its spell.
I desperately wanted Kevin to fuck me, so badly I could hardly keep still. Now, now, now. My back arched off the table, and I dug my heels into the backs of his thighs. I needed it like I’d never needed the act before, and I said so. Sort of. “
Please
, Kevin.”
The whisk clattered into the sink. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and tossed a condom next to my thigh. I heard the clink of his belt buckle, the soft hiss of his zipper being lowered, the condom wrapper tearing open. Then I was being lifted into a sitting position and scooted toward the edge of the counter.
It suddenly dawned on me that he hadn’t left his place between my legs to untie me from the cabinet. The apron strings were still twisted around my wrists. “You tricked me.”
“No, I didn’t.” He untangled the knot of the apron with lightning speed. “You just assumed I tied you down. You never resisted.”
As if I would even consider doing that.
I glanced down at his cock, dark beneath the latex, standing thick and ready between our bodies. I could sympathize. My greedy hands went to the hem of his T-shirt, but Kevin stopped me before I could strip it off.
“Wait.”
I frowned. “Why?”
He guided himself to me and pressed inside, then grabbed my ass and pulled me the rest of the way. We groaned together as he seated himself deep. Kevin’s mouth brushed mine. “Just that. I wanted that, Elle, to finally be inside you.”
Oh dear, this was dangerous. I could fall quick and hard for this man. He was gorgeous and sweet and amazing with his hands. He was a genius in the kitchen, and I wasn’t just talking about food. But more than that, he knew how to get my attention and keep it. He wouldn’t be the type to put up with my crap. He’d call me on it, hold me accountable. Kevin would never allow me to run and hide from my fears, or my desires.
The sublime feel of his cock moving inside me brought me back to myself. The here and now. Shut those lovely yet frightening thoughts off like a light switch. In turn, my body came alive, the delicious drag over hypersensitive nerve endings, the winding tightness between my hipbones. Skin pressed to…cotton. We couldn’t have that, so I stripped his T-shirt over his head.
Kevin didn’t miss a beat. His hands held me firmly while he slid in and out. My arms had found their way around his neck. They tightened as my orgasm built in steady increments. Warm breaths heated the skin of my shoulder. One of those graceful, competent hands cupped my breast, his fingers capturing my nipple. When he squeezed and bit down on my throat at the same time, I lost my grip on lucidity. A handful of thrusts later and Kevin came with me, groaning then chuckling in my ear.