Page 71 of The Chef

Again.

SMACK.

And again.

Bay loves this. She gasps with each spank, titillated beyond belief.

“I like to punish you,” I tell her in a deep voice.

“I need it,” she replies.

Her asscheek is slightly red from my handprint. She wriggles it in the air, knowing how much her pear-shaped ass turns me on.

It turns me so on that I can no longer control myself anymore.

I reach behind me for my condom packet and slide it on over my engorged member. Bay’s eyes widen in hopeful excitement. I’ve brought her to the cusp, but now I’m going to go the full way and penetrate her, and she knows it.

And she wants it.

I aim my cock over her pussy, feeling her get wet by her own juices.

And then I push in.

Bay moans loudly as she accepts me inside her. It’s just what I’m hoping for, that delicious first response to my massive cock. I feel her body adapting to it, squeezing around it as I slide inside. I lean over Bay and begin passionately kissing her neck, biting at it like a vampire. She loves this. Her hands trace down my back, scratching at it in a sign of her pleasure.

Now I start to thrust. Bay reacts strongly, crying out breathlessly in my ear.

“You want me?” I ask, whispering against her neck.

“Yes, please. Keep going,” she says. “I want you to cum.”

Her words spurn me on, and I speed up my thrusts inside her. I feel her.

I feel all of her.

Bay groans again.

My thoughts are dominated by her. By the softness of her skin, by the thickness of her lips. By the shape of her ass and tits. By the warmth of her pussy.

I fuck her hard, and I don’t stop until we both cum.

* * *

We lie in bed. Bay cozies up to me, warm under my sheets. The post-sex bliss. I lie back and close my eyes in utter relaxation.

This is where I should be.

Bay has been so good to me. We started off as foes, but we’ve ended up as business partners.

And I feel safe around her.

The last time I did care about someone, they threw it back in my face. Rejected me. The last time I cared about someone I was left on my knees in a Paris hotel room alone wondering what I’ve done wrong.

I closed myself up then, fearing to be hurt like that again. I knew I couldn’t endure another round like that. It was worse than any physical pain I’ve felt.

Has Bay Dover really melted my cold heart?

Maybe she has.