Page 26 of Things We Burn

He worked at my chefs’ whites. Tore at them.

I helped him get off my shirt, giving him access to my bra, my nipples.

I gasped as his lip fastened around one, my hands tangling in his hair.

“You okay with this, Chef?” he paused to look up at me. His voice was thick and guttural.

“Yes,” I panted down at him without hesitation.

His hand went below the waistband of my pants, inside my panties. “You okay with this?” His fingers worked at where I was wet. Soaking.

“Fuck yes.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head.

He leaned in to nibble on my ear while he rubbed at my clit. “You okay if I bend you over that same counter you were so carefully using tweezers to garnish an hour ago?”

No reservations. “Yes.”

In one blink, one ragged breath, I was whirled around. My hands found the stainless steel before Kane’s palms were on my hips, pulling them back, lifting my ass upward. He kicked at my ankles to spread my legs then hurriedly dragged down my pants. I stepped out of them automatically, feeling euphoric at being naked. In my kitchen.

Kane had one hand on my hip, holding me in place as I heard the telltale crinkle of foil.

His palm found my pussy, circling my clit so my knees buckled.

Then his finger was gone. His cock was there. Filling me. To the brim.

I opened my mouth to cry out, despite knowing people were within yelling distance.

Kane’s palm covered my mouth, muffling my scream.

Clean enough so I could see Kane’s distorted reflection in the surface, I stared at the stainless steel as he pounded into me.

“You’re the boss in here, Chef,” he grunted in my ear as he fucked me. “Got me so fucking hard, seeing you command this kitchen.”

My body coiled, ready to come in seconds as him bending to whisper in my ear changed the angle, getting him deeper.

“I like to know that you’re the boss here, and that you’ll think of me taking you.” He reached around to find my clit. “Want you to plate every dish and rememberthis.” He found the perfect spot, and I exploded.

My teeth bit into his palm on reflex as I hurtled into the abyss.

He continued pumping, grunting in pain or a release of his own—I didn’t know, I was too far gone.

By the time he stopped, I was ready to collapse against the counter.

Covered in sweat, I was gasping so heavily, my breath was fogging up the surface.

Kane’s lips latched on to my neck, kissing me there, licking at the perspiration.

I shivered in delight.

Carefully, with the utmost gentleness, he pulled out of me. Still, I whimpered.

He held on to me, bracing me as he, presumably, took care of the condom then buttoned his jeans.

“Step in, Chef,” he said quietly.

I looked back to where he was crouched, at my ankles, holding my pants and panties, ready to put them on for me.

“I can do it,” I protested, even though my limbs were lead.

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