Page 46 of Caged in Desire
“French onion soup for both of us to start, then we’ll each have the tenderloin. Rare for me, medium for my wife. I’ll have the broccolini on the side. She’ll have mashed potatoes with gravy and steak fries. For dessert, one slice of the chocolate ganache cake and one crème brûlée. Thank you.”
He scurries off as I turn to see Katarina looking at me with an eyebrow raised.
“Did you think perhaps I might want to see a menu or decide what I wanted to eat myself?” she asks, but I can tell by her tone that she’s not truly upset.
“I did not consider that, no,” I say, earning a swat on my arm. “I know what you like, and these are the dishes on the menu you’ll like best. If you aren’t satisfied by the end of the meal, I’ll get you whatever you want.”
With no rebuttal to that, but a hungry look in her eyes that I’m not sure is only directed at the food, she continues asking about the history of the building, and we watch the sunset as our conversation flows. It’s not lost on me how smart she is. No topicis too dry or obscure for her to make interesting. By the time we finish our soup and our main course arrives, she’s migrated closer and closer to me and is practically against my side.
“I think it might be hard for us to eat our steak sitting so close together,” I tease, but she’s eyeing her steak with an odd expression on her face. “What’s wrong?”
She gives me an embarrassed look. “I love steak, but usually, I don’t cut it myself. Something about it just grosses me out, even if it’s tender.”
Thinking back, I realize Mrs. Potts has pre-cut Katarina’s steak when we’ve had it at home. Internally grinning, I realize this gives me the perfect opportunity to take care of her.
“Come here,” I say, and she gives a delightful little squeak as I pull her sideways onto my lap, pushing the table back slightly with my foot to accommodate her. “You can sit here, and I’ll cut your steak for you. How does that sound?”
She blinks up at me and inhales deeply, looking peaceful and right at home on my lap. Nodding, she smiles as I cut and feed her the first piece of steak, and the little moan she gives tells me it’s cooked to her liking. We pass the rest of our meal like this, me feeding her little bites and chatting about various subjects. It’s torture having her in my lap, but I love it. With my arms around her, I feel like I’m protecting her from the world. Nothing can upset her or harm her as long as she’s right here where she belongs.
“What made you choose this hotel for tonight?” Katarina asks as we make our way inside the suite, tired but feeling less full after dancing some of our dinner off at the club.
Hanging our coats and popping open the champagne that was on ice when we arrived, I pour two glasses. “Take a look on the balcony and you’ll see.”
Her gasp tells me she found the infinity hot tub on the deck, and I move to follow her and catch a glimpse of her surprise.
Butfuck me.She’s the one doing the surprising. My kitten has managed to unzip herself and drop her dress, showing me that she didn’t wear the lingerie I laid out for her becauseshe’s not wearing anything.Downing both glasses of champagne, I lean onto a deck chair as she slowly submerges herself in the water, looking every bit a siren in the moonlight.
“Come in with me?” she asks with a teasing raised eyebrow before tipping her head back into the water to wet her long hair.
I’ve given up trying to deny her, and I feel like a teenager again as I kick off my shoes and step into the water fully clothed, refusing to waste time stripping before joining her.
I crowd her against the edge, slowly placing one hand on her neck to hold her still while my other softly trails across her collarbone, dipping lower to slightly graze a peaked nipple. I feel her sharp intake of breath against my hand as she tries to turn her head, and I tighten it, just a bit, to keep her where I want her.
Her fluttering pulse against my thumb makes me groan as I dip down to taste the nipple I’ve been teasing, before giving it a nibble and relishing in her squirming as I do. Moving my hand to hold her jaw, I tease her lower lip with my thumb once, twice, before I can’t handle this torture a second longer. I need to taste her more than I’ve ever needed anything in my life.
Kneeling to be eye level with her, I softly brush my mouth against my wife’s. She’s still, as if worried any enthusiasm might scare me off, but any reticence I felt at crossing this line ofintimacy is gone. I need her lips. I need her cum. I need her in my lap every day so I can feed her and take care of her. I need my seed in her womb so she can grow my babies.
But first, I need to taste her. My second brush is firmer, and she tries to chase my mouth, but my hold on her jaw is firm. Teasing her just a little more, I run my tongue across her lush lower lip, reveling in her tiny gasp, which is my undoing. My hand leaves her jaw to join the other in her hair, bending her head to the side so I can finally claim her mouth.
She parts perfectly for me, letting my tongue in to dance with hers, and I groan deeply at the taste of my wife. Sweetness from her dessert, a lingering hint of champagne earlier, and a flavor all her own that I know with certainty I’ll be dreaming of on my deathbed.
It feels like I’ve reached a new plane of existence when she winds her arms around my neck and wraps her legs around my waist, trying to get as close to me as possible. I leave the sanctuary of her lips for just a moment, trailing hot kisses down her neck until I miss her lips too much and return to give her more teasing pecks.
Finally, with one last nip at her bottom lip, I pull back to find my wife looking thoroughly debauched. Lips reddened and eyes glassy, she looks like a dream.
“Please,” she says, and my kitten has tears in her eyes. My mood changes from elation to concern in a heartbeat, and I cup her face in both hands.
“Darling,” I whisper. “What’s wrong?”
She sniffles to keep her tears from falling and takes a fortifying breath before breaking my heart.
“Please don’t kiss me, then take it away again. You kissed me at the wedding, and I was beginning to think you never would again, and I—”
I cut her off with my lips on hers, pulling her tighter to me and rising out of the hot tub. Water cascades off us as I stride into the suite. Pushing her into the wall just inside, I grip her thighs tightly and swallow her gasp of pain. Finally pulling back, I try to give her every ounce of the honesty she deserves in my gaze. I can feel her trembling, and I know she’s wet and cold, but she needs to hear this now.
“Katarina. You willnevergo another day without my lips on yours. It was my misplaced fear that had me holding back from you, but that’s no excuse. You’ll get tired of me kissing you before you ever have to beg me again. It’s more likely that you’ll be begging me to stop.”
She’s breathing heavily but no longer on the verge of tears, and before long, one side of her mouth turns up in a soft smile. Leaning toward me, she reaches for a soft kiss that I readily give her, but when I try to deepen it, she pulls back.
