Page 27 of When love and Hate Collide

“It seems you’re stuck playing my wife for the afternoon, Angel.” He teases, taking my chin between his thumb and index finger.

“We can just correct him and tell him we’re not married.” I point out and he chuckles, brushing a loose strand of my hair away from my face.

“Where’s the fun in that?” I sigh, my eyes closing when he dips his head and presses a kiss to my pulse point. “If he assumes that we’re married we won’t have to be sneaky about touching and kissing in his presence.” I’m completely lost some place between his hot mouth discreetly sucking on my neck that my mind doesn’t fully apprehend a word of what he’s saying—only the pleasure that his mouth is granting and the pulsing between my legs.

What is this boy doing to me?

“God, you smell incredible,” he murmurs, burying his face into the crook of my neck and inhaling deeply. I smile, inwardly thanking Ash for showering me with our favourite body mist before leaving the house.

“Bene, piccioncini, let’s get started.” Chef Russo urges with a chuckle when he catches us in yet another intimate moment and claps his hands together to get our attention. Disgruntled, we pull apart again and try our damned hardest to focus on the rest of the class. “See those beans in your bowls, they are called cacao beans and they come from this beautiful fruit called baccello di cacao, also known as a cacao pod.” He explains holding up an orange fruit shaped like an over-sized papaya.

“Chocolate comes from a bloody fruit?” I snigger when my date leans in and murmurs in my ear.

“It seems so.”

“Once the beans are out of the pods it takes about seven days to ferment…” Chef Russo goes on to explain the process of roasting the cacao beans, peeling the skin, and crushing them to small nips, which then gets blended to a smooth paste. We follow his steps and create a paste as instructed. “Well done,” he praises leaning forward to check the consistency of the paste. “Now we move on to tempering the chocolate, which is key to achieve that beautiful smooth finish and delightful snap when we break it. Capisci?”

“Si Chef.” We both nod and he smiles and goes on to demonstrate how to correctly temper chocolate. “Go ahead and get to tempering your chocolate but remember to keep an eye on the temperature of the chocolate throughout. I’ll be back to check in on you in a moment and we can move onto moulding.” I continue to stir, and my handsome sidekick adds the butter. I continue to stir it in until the chocolate and butter are well incorporated.

“I don’t know why people are always crying about married life being such a drag. Look at us working together like a dream.” I laugh when he shifts to stand behind me pulling my hair over one shoulder to expose my neck.

I bite my lip, my head lulling back when he drags his lips down the side of my neck.

“I’m pretty sure there are far more complexities to a marriage than the art of making and tempering chocolate together,” I express breathily and feel his hand covering mine over the handle of the spatula I’m using to stir the chocolate. “Also, need I remind you that we’re notactuallymarried.”

“No, but you certainly make the concept of a life married to you damn appealing.” I watch as he removes the spatula covered in warm chocolate and dips both my index and middle fingers into the bowl of gooey chocolate and lifts it to his lips and sucks them clean with a raucous moan. “Right now, I’m picturing myself coming home after a long day and spreading you out on top of the kitchen counter and eating you out in between every course." My head whirls and I suddenly can’t remember how to breathe, especially when dips his finger into the chocolate and brings it to my mouth.

“Open up, show me what that mouth can do, baby girl,” he murmurs gruffly in my ear. I don’t think twice or hesitate before eagerly parting my lips and sucking his finger clean while moaning as he leisurely thrusts his fingers into my mouth and continues to whisper absolute filth in my ear. “I want to taste you, right now.”

My eyes snap open and I crane my neck to peer up at him dumbfounded after he removes his fingers from my mouth, “You’re not serious? Chef Russo will be bac—” the rest of my sentence is swallowed when he presses his mouth firmly to mine and kisses me till I can no longer recall my own damn name.

“Spread those gorgeous legs,” he croons, nipping at my lower lip. “Let me feel how wet that cunt is for me,” I’m locked in his intense gaze, incapable of looking away or even thinking rationally. While I’m inwardly fighting with my morals it seems my body makes the decision for me, because my legs part for him when his fingertips graze up my inner thigh, inching toward my pussy while arousing every nerve in my body and leaving a delicious lick of fire in its wake.

My breath hitches in my throat when his fingers deftly push aside my now damp underwear and glide through my soaked cleft. “Fuck,” he breathes, pressing his forehead to mine. “If you only knew the battle I’m having within myself right now to not hit my knees and drink up every little drop that secretes from your perfect pussy.”

I didn’t have the cerebral ability to muster up two words to say back, I only mewl in response when he circles the pads of his fingers against my clit and leisurely caresses me. “Are you going to come for me before he gets back, baby girl?” I bite my lip, gently rocking myself against his fingers. I’m so aroused, literally teetering on the edge so it won’t take me long to orgasm—especially with the way he’s touching me.

“I… uh,” I grip the edge of the counter to keep myself upright when my knees tremble in warning as the pressure deep in my groin steadily starts to build. “OhGod, yes,” I pant, resting my head against his shoulder when my head goes faint as he drives me into the arms of sweet rapture.

My body heats up rapidly like someone lit an inferno inside me, starting at the tip of my toes and flowing all the way to the roots of my hair. I couldn’t focus on a damn thing but chasing that orgasm. “Shh, baby girl,” he murmurs, softly nipping at my ear. “You’ll have to be quiet if you want to reach that orgasm before he gets back.”

“Ohhh yes, yes,” I whimper, digging my nails into the worktop when he presses down on my clit a little firmer. My body quakes while I rock my hips, grinding myself against his fingers until I’m pendent on the verge of release. One final stroke of his thumb and I go soaring off the edge, completely consumed by the euphoric carnality of my orgasm. “Ahh, I’mcoming…” I manage just before I lose my breath and everything around me blurs. Fireworks explode behind my eyelids with every searing surge of pleasure that crashes over me.

It wasn’t until my orgasm ebbs away and I fall limp against his chest that I notice he has his free hand clamped over my mouth.

“We need to leave,” I peel my eyes open and look at him, panting. “Right now.” I don’t say a word, only nod mutely in response.

Do I feel bad for the way we just take off without a word, yes, but I don’t have much time to dwell on it, because the moment we step outside my back hits a wall and I barely suck in a breath before he steals it with a hungry kiss.

I can’t tell you how we make it to his car, but the half hour drive to wherever it was he was taking us felt like the longest drive in the world. We exchange kisses at every traffic light we stop at. The intense passion between us only escalating until we make it to our destination.

Epping forest—lovers lane,to be precise. A spot famously known for couples to pull up and ‘get frisky’ in their cars.

The windows to his Lexus are steamed up, and the sound of panting and moaning combined with the music playing lowly in the background hangs in the air.

“Mm, fuck, baby girl...” my insatiable lover groans, rolling his hips, feeding his engorged member into my mouth. The low throaty growl that emits from him each time the crown of his cock hits the back of my throat arouses me more. I can listen to that intoxicating sound tirelessly. “Look at me,” he commands between breaths and curls his long fingers in my hair. My eyes lift to peer up at him and the carnal look in his eyes, combined with the deliberate lick of lips makes my pussy ache and clench with need. “I’m coming,” he laments, drawing his lower lip between his teeth, he watches me hollow my cheeks and suck him hard. His cock grows thicker in my mouth and with a drawn out ‘ahhh baby fuuuck’ he shoots rope after hot rope of his seed down my throat and I greedily swallow every drop he delivers with a moan.

“Christ.” He pants, his head lulling back against the headrest of the backseat in his car.

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