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“You can cook?”
“I’m not just a pretty face, baby. Pass me the paprika.”
“Is that the red stuff?”
His eyes light up with amusement, accompanied with a mischievous grin. “If you’re planning to be a housewife one day, you need to know your spices.”
“Right.” I throw a piece of cucumber at him, playfully. “That’s so sexist.”
“Why? You’ll look good in a kitchen, wearing an apron, and kids running around you.”
My gaze shifts toward the wine glass sitting in my hand. I swirl the wine, taking a large quantity in as I brush off the ‘kids’ comment. The uneasiness that momentarily graces the pit of my stomach disappears as the wine settles in nicely. With a forced smile, I continue to tease him. “Women around the world will crucify you if they hear that.”
“Well, lucky only the one I care about heard, huh?”
I’m unable to hide the girly giggle that escapes my mouth, enjoying this moment with him. How can a man, barefoot and wearing shorts, be so damn sexy with a raw carcass in his hand?
“Okay, smartass. Seriously, what can I do to help?”
“Get naked.”
“Wesley! I’m serious.”
Moving to the sink, he washes his hands thoroughly before responding. “I’m serious. I haven’t fucked you since this morning. We fight in the boardroom. You call me Mr. Rich twice, and you also mention some other boyfriend you had. Do I need to explain how hard I am right now?”
He moves to me, wrapping his arms around my neck. His hands touch my skin, the cool sensation from the cold water, causing me to shiver slightly. The dress I’m wearing exposes my shoulders, and the fabric is light and flowy. Feeling slightly exposed, my posture caves in to protect myself from the cold.
Wesley positions his body against mine, allowing me to warm up. My body—now accustomed to his body temperature—begins to relax as he cups my face and draws me in, kissing me deeply. I hate that he can do this to me—make everything go away with a simple kiss—and how my body reacts first, not my heart or my head.
“You’re so delicious when you’re angry.” He bites my lower lip between my gasps.
“When was I angry…” I can barely say the words, my whole body ready to combust on the spot.
“You’re always angry with me. That’s why I can’t stop thinking about you… naked… here… ready for me.”
He lifts me onto the counter, moving the food away so he can lay me down. Spreading my legs apart, he watches as my panties are in full view, eyeing them with such desire. He remains quiet, leaning in between my legs and running his nose along the outside of the fabric, my moans echoing loudly in the large kitchen from the anticipation.
“We shouldn’t do this here,” I plead, though unconvincingly.
Wesley’s eyes remain fixated on mine, cursing me with a satisfied grin. He loves to control us—everything from the moment we kiss until the second we finish.
I watch with anticipation and a galloping heartbeat, his head lowering down and settling between my legs. My panties are parted, his fist is clutching them as the tip of his tongue touches my swollen clit. My back arches against the marble, the tips of my fingers gripping the edge for support.
He knows he’s damn good, sticking his tongue in between my creases at a delightful pace. I’m close. Desperate not to give in so early, but that fire in my belly, the one making my head spin, demands that I succumb to the raging orgasm about to take over.
Then—boom.
My body collapses against the countertop with my breaths short and quick. I want to laugh, scream, and tie myself to this man for the rest of my life.
The sound of metal clinks against the concrete floors. I try to pull myself up, but Wesley is pinning me down, sliding himself in me. No questions, no words, his mouth against mine roughly as he thrusts deep into me, trapping my screams amongst his kisses.
His need to make love so raw yet intimate makes me fall for him even harder. I grab onto his hair, running my hands through it and using them to guide his lips to mine, wanting him more and more to the point that I’m willing to sacrifice everything for this moment.
His taste is erotically charged—a mixture of desperation and dominance—two very different things yet everything that turns me on when he’s inside me.
A loud grunt barrels through him as our bodies disconnect, the cool air falling onto my heated skin as he finishes himself on my thigh. Both of us are out of breath, unable to talk as we gulp for air, our chests rising and falling from the intensity of this moment.
He extends his hand, arms flexing and doing that nice thing with his biceps that make them look sexy. Great, you’re getting all turned on again.
