She swallowed past the sudden dryness in her throat. “Oh.”
He took a long sip of his coffee, keeping his eyes on her. “So tell me about these muffins.”
A quick laugh bubbled out. It was the question he asked her each morning in the restaurant. Only she’d never had to answer him while naked, flat on her back, and about as turned on as a person could be. She cleared her throat, preparing her specials-of-the-day voice. “They’re orange macadamia nut with a white chocolate drizzle. Well, they will be once I get around to drizzling them.”
“Sounds delicious. Your baking is going to be hell on my strict eating regime, Ms. LeBreck. All this temptation. I’m not usually one to indulge, but I find it hard to resist when you’re around.” He picked up the little bowl of melted white chocolate she’d set on top of a hot mug of water to keep it warm. “Is this the drizzle?”
“Yes, sir.”
He set down his coffee and dipped a finger in the chocolate, then brought it to his mouth, tasting. “Mmm, that’s amazing. What’d you add to it?”
“Orange zest. It’s even better on top of the muffins.”
He raised an eyebrow and grabbed a whisk from the carafe of utensils next to the stove. “Is that right?”
She couldn’t answer as she watched him stir the mixture slowly, then draw the whisk above the bowl so that little ribbons of the chocolate ran off the whisk and back into the bowl. The wicked quirk of his mouth told her everything she needed to know.
He strolled her way again, the front of his pajama bottoms showing signs of his growing interest in breakfast, and set the bowl next to her. His hand caressed her hip, sending hot goose bumps marching across her skin. “Last night was going to be about your pleasure. About me discovering how you liked to be touched. But you tried to steer the ship instead.”
Her tongue darted out, swiping across her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“Shh.” He pressed his finger to her mouth, the remnants of the chocolate sweet against her lips. “You accepted your punishment beautifully last night, so no need to apologize again. But now, it’s my turn to get what I wanted in the first place.”
He lifted the whisk from the bowl and held it over her chest. Warm ribbons of chocolate drizzled down, coating her nipples and sliding down over her breasts. Her neck arched, the sinful sensation racing straight downward, heating everything in its path, and settling between her thighs. The scent of orange hit her nose. Wyatt smiled and drew the whisk over her belly, leaving a swirling splatter pattern of glossy white chocolate in his wake.Author: Roni Loren
“Too warm?” he asked.
“God, no,” she breathed. “It’s . . .”
Then his mouth was on her, stealing her words. His tongue glided over the side of her breast, following the trail of chocolate until his lips locked around a nipple. The softness of his mouth mixing with the abrasive grit of sugar in the chocolate was almost too much to take at once. She moaned into the touch, and he sucked hard, bringing her nipple to an aching point. Her clit throbbed in time with each suck, her ankles tugging at the bindings as her thighs automatically tried to close and provide pressure for the insistent need there.
Wyatt eased back a bit, flicking her once more with the tip of his tongue. “So the question is, love, do you respond to the soft and sensual approach . . .” He reached out and circled her nipple oh so gently. “Or do you prefer a little bite?”
His thumb and forefinger clamped onto her, pinching. Her back arched off the table, a hot boom of need rippling outward from his touch. “Fuck.”
He chuckled, a darkly pleasant sound. “Well, that answers that. Guess it’s a good thing Jace talked me into buying some brutal little clamps for our trip.”
She shivered, and Wyatt cupped her other breast, bringing his mouth down again—sucking and laving, cleaning every drop of confection off her. The warm chocolate he’d painted on her belly dripped down her sides, making it feel like she had more than one hot tongue licking at her. Even the sticky, wet sounds of chocolate-covered lips against skin were driving her to the brink of desperation. She wriggled beneath him, the need coiling and pulsing in her, energy demanding to be let out.
He gave her thigh a sharp little smack while grazing her nipple with his teeth. Stay still. He didn’t have to say it; she got the message. Her fingers gripped the table harder, and moisture coated her sex, her own scent drifting up to her nose and mixing with the orange from the chocolate.
The house phone rang, startling her for a moment, but Wyatt lifted his head, looking down at her. “Ignore it. All your focus on me and what you’re feeling.”
“Yes, sir.”
The phone continued to ring as he straightened and grabbed the bowl again. Before she knew it, he was in between her spread thighs, looking down at her with unabashed hunger. He lifted the whisk and drizzled the chocolate over her inner thighs and over her freshly waxed mound. The warmth alone reminded her of how it’d felt to have him come on her last night, his semen sliding down and over her back. It’d been one of the sexiest things she’d ever experienced.
He touched the lips of her sex, a gentle caress. “You’re so pink and swollen, love. I can’t wait to taste every inch of you. Would you like that?”
“Yes, sir,” she gasped. “Please.”
He grabbed her leg and drew his tongue up her thigh, licking off the chocolate and making her quiver. “I will. As soon as I get you all cleaned off. As much as I love your cooking, when I eat this pretty pussy of yours, I don’t want to taste anything but you.”
She whimpered at that, the pulsing in her clit becoming like a bass drum reverberating through her body.
Then he was doing exactly what he promised, tasting and dragging his tongue along every inch of her inner thighs, laving it off her mound, taking his time and driving her to a panting, begging mess. Unable to keep ahold of the table, her hand balled and pounded in a steady rhythm against the table, the energy having to go somewhere.
Wyatt paused in his tortuous treatment, his voice gritty with his own restraint. His thumb grazed over her clit, a gentle stroke, but it sent sparks through her nonetheless. “Touch your tits for me, Kelsey. And don’t be shy. Let me see just what you like.”