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Press, pull, squeeze. Press, pull, squeeze. Libby was kneading dough for biscuits on the marble counter when two firm hands grabbed her by the hips. She jumped and then smelled Mason’s aftershave as he pressed his soft lips into her neck.
“Good morning,” he said as he nibbled her shoulder.
Liberty smiled as a chill worked up her spine. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
“Amazing. Only problem was I went to bed with a gorgeous woman and when I woke up this morning she was gone. Have you seen her?”
She chuckled. His hands wrapped around her waist and traveled upwards until he cupped her breasts through her fitted T-shirt. She gazed down at her fingers covered in flour and sticky dough. A sprinkling of flour flurried to the floor. She couldn’t see where it landed, but knew it was there.
“What are you making?” He plucked at her hardening nipples and she sagged into his hold and sighed.
She swallowed. “Sausage and biscuits.”
“Mmm. Have I ever told you how much I love your biscuits?” He cupped her breasts suggestively.
His erection nudged against the back of her thin eyelet skirt. “Mason, we have a guest in the house.”
His hand traveled down low and then back up, under her shirt. His warm fingertips coasting over the soft skin of her belly made her body shiver and a yearning for him began to fill her tummy. “Don’t worry. Sean’s always been a sound sleeper.”
“I have dough all over my hands,” she whined, playfulness masking how much the mess truly bothered her.
“Then you’d better keep them on the counter.” He reached up and placed one palm flat on the cool marble surface, then the other. More powder fell to the ground, this time sprinkling the edge of the lower cabinets. “God I love it when you wear skirts.”
Cool air touched the flesh of her backside as he flipped up her skirt and all thoughts of flour dusting her clean floors temporarily vanished. “Mason! We’re in the kitchen!”
“I know.” His hand slid beneath her silk panties and over the cheek of her ass. The thin strap pulled away from her hip as his hand nudged its way to her front and cupped her sex. “This…” He rubbed the smooth surface of her pussy. “I love.”
Her weight pressed into her palms balanced on the lip of the counter for support as her body warmed. Mason’s foot tapped at the inside of her ankles and she widened her stance. He leaned into her so that she was somewhat hunched over the messy surface as he rubbed his cock up and down over the cleft of her ass. Her panties and his sweats seemed almost inconsequential.
This new, aggressive side of Mason spoke to some baser part of Liberty. It was like robbing Peter to pay Paul. Her compulsion eased just enough to let him in and in the end, the result of her surrender, was her sweet reward. Mason brought a flash of silence and peace to her that she’d been chasing for years.
She could trade a dusting of flour for those few seconds of peace. She could stomach putting off her routine a few minutes for those luxurious seconds of utter tranquility and stillness within her mind. She only hoped the price was not more than the profit in the end. It was a gamble with her sanity, forcing herself to relax long enough to reap the benefits of what she coveted most, an unbroken moment of perfect serenity.
He moved his fingers the slightest degree and the tip of his index finger pressed, not into her slit, but right under the hood and onto her throbbing clit. Her body jerked at the sensation.
“I want to make you come in the kitchen, Liberty. And when I eat your biscuits, I’m going to remember that you came while making them.” He whispered into her neck as he licked and kissed her flesh.
Mason’s finger began to softly flick up and down as his other palm pressed into her abdomen, holding her against him, the slight restraint working to amplify every twitch and brush of his body against hers.
Someone cleared their throat and Mason stilled. Mortification ran through Liberty like ice water through her veins.
Mason’s softly whispered, “Fuck.” And she knew she hadn’t imagined the sound.
He slowly removed his hand from her panties and from under her shirt. The cool weight of linen over her rear replaced the warmth of his body as he stepped back. Although he was no longer touching her intimately, he still used his form to shelter her from Sean’s view and she was grateful for that.
“You gonna be okay?” her husband whispered.
Her body was totally aroused, but he wasn’t asking about the state of her body. He was asking if this was going to ruin her day and in turn totally alter the course of his. She’d already had one episode that week. She refused to have another. Her head tipped in a tight nod and he pressed a brief kiss to her neck and stepped further back then turned.
