Page 9 of Shades of Red

“Yes.Mon Dieu, yes,” she whimpers in response.

Needing no further invitation, I spread apart her folds with my thumbs and slide my tongue into her wet slit. My eyes flutter shut at the first delicious taste of her—she’s sweet and salty and rich, and I want to swallow every drop of her. I run my tongue from her entrance all the way up to her asshole, circling around the puckered hole. She squirms beneath me, but I swat at her ass as a warning to stay still.

“You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” I moan against her skin between licks. “Like cherries ripened in the sun until they’re almost bursting.” She keens and spreads her legs wider, pushing further off the wall so that I can devour every inch of her. “That’s it,chérie, give it to me.” But it’s not enough. I need more.

I grab her by the hips and spin her around to face me, forcing her back against the wall. From this angle, it’s so much easier to eat her pretty pussy. With her dress still clutched at her waist leaving her bare, I spread open her outer lips with my thumbs, and dig in, licking and sucking at her clit. Aurélie cries out, her eyes closed in rapture as I drive her toward release.

Wanting her closer, I grasp her under the knee and throw her leg over my shoulder. Her eyes startle open at the loss of her balance. She tries to pull away, but I hold her tight against me with a firm hand on her thigh. “Put all your weight on me. I’ve got you,” I tell her, reaching for her other leg.

“Non,” she protests, still trying to evade my demand to have her as close as possible.

I reach back and slap her ass before grabbing both of her thighs. “Shut the fuck up and smother me with this sweet cunt,chérie.” Pushing her back firmly against the wall to support her upper body, I grab her other leg and hoist it over my shoulders so that she is sitting astride my head with her pussy directly against my mouth.

I swipe my tongue over her clit over and over, tracing circles that have her crying out for more. “Are you ready to come, Aurélie?” I ask, my words muffled by the wet folds of her pussy.

“Oui,” she sobs, her legs starting to tremble around my cheeks.

“Do you want to come on my tongue?” I gasp as the pitch of her cries rises higher.

“S’il te plaît. Yes,” she begs, her French and English blending as she tries to stay focused.

“Then come,” I command, digging my fingers into her ass to hold her steady as I lash at her clit with my tongue. She comes louder than any girl I’ve ever been with, a scream on her lips as she soaks my mouth and chin with her arousal. I lick between her thighs until her moans die down, and she slinks down on me in complete exhaustion.

Gently, I unwrap her legs from my neck one at a time and set her on unsteady feet. My chin is still wet, and I run my thumb over my mouth to wipe away any excess before slipping it between my lips and sucking it clean. She watches me with fire in her eyes; I almost think she would rather have licked me clean herself.

Still kneeling, I pick up her panties from where they were abandoned on the floor and gesture for her to lift her foot. I slip her panties on and pull them up until they’re tucked tightly against her cunt. I’m well aware that they’re dirty and soaked, and the thought of her uncomfortably wearing them all day brings a bright smile to my face. I pull her dress from the firm clutches of her fingers and smoothit back down over her hips before standing to my feet.

Aurélie looks noticeably uneasy when I’m no longer beneath her but towering over her with a smug smile on my face and her cum on my lips. I search her wide eyes, looking for any sign that she regrets this. There’s a glimmer of something dark, but I can’t be sure what it is. Black is smudged beneath her eyes, her golden hair is damp with sweat, and her smeared lips look like she tried to bite right through them. I rub my knuckles over her left cheek; it’s marked from being pressed against the wall for so long. I stare down at her like I’ve just discovered a new addiction, and I wantmore.

“Please don’t look at me like that,” she says, the first words she’s spoken since she was begging to come. She doesn’t sound as sweet and desperate now.

“Like what?” I ask, feigning innocence with a shrug.

“Like I’m the first girl you’ve ever spanked and tongue-fucked in a back alley,” she snaps back with a hint of acidity.

“Youarethe first girl I’ve spanked and tongue-fucked in a back alley.” I leave out the fact that she’s the first in general, alley or not.

Something soft flickers in her cornflower eyes before she blinks it away. “Don’t worry, I won’t be your last.” She starts to pull away.

“Hey, where are you going?” I ask, capturing her wrist and trying to tug her back.

“We have a challenge to win, remember?” she retorts, her tone tart as yuzu as she tries to rip herself away again.

Actually, I did forget the challenge for about twenty blissful minutes. Minutes that we didn’t have to spare.Shit, this girl fucks with my concentration like nothing else. “Fine,” I answer, annoyance creeping into my voice. “Let’s go.” I push past her and move toward the sunlight streaming in at the entrance of the alley.

“Wait,” she calls out. I turn back to see her biting her lip as she fists at the material of her dress, her energy seeming anxious. “Pleasedon’t tell anyone.”

I scoff. “Why would I publicly announce that I tongue-fucked the competition? You’re practically the enemy.”

Her expression falls, my words causing the intended sting. Althoughshehas no reason to be hurt. I’m the one who just pleased her on my knees before she ran off and acted like she wanted to forget the whole thing.

“It’s just—no one can know. Promise me.” Her voice trembles, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say my golden girl is scared.

“Fine, Ipromise,” I bite back, rolling my eyes. “Want me to pinky swear?” She snorts, the sound haughty and bratty, and it makes me want to throw her against the wall again.

“I think I’ve had enough of your perverse Americanisms for one day, thank you.”

The rich scent of onions and garlic simmering in fat fills the steamed air in the kitchen. The atmosphere is calmer, quieter than usual. We aren’t all running around trying to get things prepped, cooked, and plated in time. We’re waiting patiently, stirring, taking the time to walk around the room and talk with other chefs as we taste their dishes and offer compliments or improvements. I’m sure our usual cutthroat mentalities will all be firmly in place by the next challenge, but it’s nice to feel like you’re surrounded by peers rather than adversaries for once.

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