Page 11 of Filthy Chef

I’m trying so hard to guard my heart.

Get it together, Journey. You got this. Bang it out. Have a great day tomorrow, and nail the interview.

Ha. Nail.

I crack myself up.

Jay taps his thigh as he sits on the side of the bed, indicating he wants me to sit on his lap.

I want to ask if he wants to undress first, but I think I know what this is.

I aim to straddle him, but with deft hands, he positions me across his lap.

Jason cups the back of my neck, and his other hand moves up my legs, gripping the bare skin under my skirt. He kisses me gently, too gently, on the cheek, then whispers against my cheek, “Squeeze your knees together for me… that’s a good girl.”

We kiss like this for some time, his hand wedged between my thighs, under my skirt. It’s driving me insane that his hand isn’t moving. He’s making me insanely wet, too. As he moves his hand upward, approaching my bare pussy, I squeeze tighter.

“That’s a good girl. Keep Daddy’s hands away.”

My brain shorts out.

Why do I like something so fucked up? Why does my pussy weep more and more every time he says stuff like that?

A lightning strike of desire surges through me as Jay dips his head down and takes one nipple into his mouth, and sucks. At the same time, the fingers that cup my neck travel up to grasp a generous handful of my hair, gently pulling.

My leg muscles relax and I open my thighs.

He moans on my nipple, licking over the tip and teasing it out into a tight, aching pebble.

I wriggle, frantic for him to touch me down there. Jay lets go of my nipple and rakes his teeth over it. I let out a cry of surprise. The pleasure is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.

That is until his hand between my thighs inches upward and cups my pussy. His touch is light and teasing there. I try to hitch forward, demanding more pressure.

His fingers sweep over me, while he takes my mouth in another searing, tonguing kiss. His kisses make me so wet I decide it’s a good thing I brought a separate outfit for tomorrow’s interview because not even my best skirt is going to survive this interlude.

He adjusts me, pushing my thighs apart even more so that he can delve deeper, sliding through my folds. “My naughty girl’s been wetting herself all over me.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

What has gotten into me? I’ve never liked Daddy kink, but this…this nasty, filthy, gorgeous man who knows about food and likes my tummy and apparently has a job that lets him disappear for hours in the middle of the day…this man is knocking down everything I believe about myself and putting it back together with a whole different design.

“You will be,” he says, nipping my jaw.

His fingers continue to explore as he takes the other nipple, affording it the same attention as the first one. Sucking. Licking. Scraping his teeth over the hard tip, like I’m a toy who’s here for his amusement. And I’m loving every second of it.

I’ve never gone from zero to 60 so fast on a first date. But then, I’ve never had a one-night stand, either. And I’ve never been this attracted to someone, and it has nothing to do with his generosity.

It’s the look in his eyes, his charisma, his charm, his absolute mission to make me feel beautiful.

His thumb drags over my clit, then, and I almost seize immediately.

“Oh!”

Jay feels me tense up. With a gentle chuckle, he continues to strum me, suckle me, like a personal plaything. He lets go of my hair, and his arm circles my hips to keep me from falling off his lap.

He pops my nipple free and blows on it.

“Oh my god…Jay…”

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