Icing on the Cake

CHAPTER 9

***

Eisley

Enticement draws me in, causing me to crave more than Beau’s kiss. He cradles my head in the palm of his hand, and I lean into it as heaviness settles low in my gut. My breath hitches as the kiss deepens. The rapid beating of my heart echoes inside my head, spurring my desire to a near-frantic pace.

Beau pulls away from the kiss as breathless and turned on as I am. I take his hand and lead him away from the kitchen and down the hallway to my bedroom without a word. The rhythm of soft jazz continues playing softly in the background, a seductive playlist to what I hope is our impending lovemaking.

Our lips meet in whispered softness as Beau lowers me to the bed. His tongue parts my lips furtively, tasting and teasing until our movements become one. I lose myself in his touch, imprinting on my brain everything about the way he moves, the way he smells, and the way he tastes.

He stretches across me, still fully clothed, yet I soak in every hardened ridge of his body as he presses against mine. He glides his hand down my neck to my breast. I arch into him, wanting his bare skin on mine. His fingers slide lower to my waist. I inhale sharply when his fingers swipe across my bare tummy.

Beau lifts to his knees and straddles my hips. He crosses his arms and yanks his shirt overhead while I get an eyeful of the stiff bulge tenting his pants. I lick my lips, unable to resist and reach for his waistband. I flick the button open, then draw the zipper downward. Steam wafts off him in waves, his arousal filling my lungs with sweet heat.

I draw a finger along his stiffened cock, teasing him through his boxers. His hooded eyes grow darker as he twitches at my touch. I peel back the denim and slide my fingers into his waistband. I slide his pants and boxers to his thighs, releasing his thick, beautiful cock. My mouth waters with want, and suddenly, I need to taste him more than I need my own relief.

He strokes himself with a long, firm jerk. A glistening drop of arousal slicks across his crown, and I lick my lips. I rise to my elbows and open my mouth, begging for a taste. Beau’s nostrils flare as he puffs his chest. He guides the thickened head to my mouth and smears my lips with the slick tip. My tongue darts out, and he groans when I lick the tip.

“Eis, you’re killing me, babe.” His hips thrust forward, and I ready myself for another taste.

“You’re way better than frosting,” I giggle when I taste him again.

Fire burns in his stare as he fists himself, pumping until his flesh is swollen and taut. I open my mouth, daring him to give himself to me. He obliges, thrusting his hips forward as he cradles my neck. He guides his cock into my mouth, and I swirl my tongue around the crown before sucking him in deeper.

“Fuck.” He groans as I swallow him.

He rocks into my mouth with long strokes as I savor and suck. My panties dampen as moisture flows freely to my core and arousal consumes me. His breath grows ragged, and when I think he’s about to come, he slips free of my grasp. Disappointment seeps into my heart, but when I get a look at my handiwork and the thrumming vein running along his hardened length, a fresh wave of invigorating desire pools in my sex.

Beau slides off the bed and throws his pants to the floor. He reaches for my waistband and yanks my pants and panties to my ankles. I kick them off and widen my legs as he climbs over me. My sex flutters and tightens, swelling with desire as he sinks between my legs.

“You’re fucking amazing.” He holds my gaze as he strokes my hair. “I’ll fuck that pouty little mouth of yours later. I need your tight pussy now.”

“Look who the dirty talker is now.” I giggle again as I grab his ass, drawing him closer to my core.

With a single thrust, he pushes past my barrier, filling me with his thickness. That one stroke pierces my heart and makes me feel whole, proving there’s hope for love and second chances.

***

Beau

Eisley claws my ass as I glide into her, hard and fast. She cocoons my cock in fiery, silky heat, even hotter than her sexy little mouth. The weeks I’ve spent fantasizing about this moment are nothing compared to the real thing. She’s a little hellcat, ready and willing to take what she needs.

I move over her, thrusting slowly, savoring the grip she has on my cock. I use every trick in my arsenal to hold back my release until she gets her own. She swivels her hips, and I grit my teeth, sweating like a mother fucking teenager his first time out of the gate. My cock twitches and pulses, but I hold back, soaking in Eisley’s contorted smile, the way her breath hitches, and her tiny hiccuped moans.

My heart pounds as it swells bigger and fuller with emotion. Eisley reaches something deep inside me that I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel. A sense of purpose outside of myself takes root, and I want to guard and protect her, love her, and bring her pleasure. She’s who and what my life’s been missing.

She arches again as I thrust inside her. My balls tighten as her walls contract around me. She pulls in a sharp breath and tightens her grip on my ass. Her walls constrict and pulse as she comes hard against my throbbing cock. I thrust again, this time losing control. My body hums and vibrates as the orgasm rocks my body. My arms shake, and I collapse onto her chest as she strokes my back and fingers the hair at the nape of my neck.

Her heart thunders against my chest, our bodies sync to a private, indulgent rhythm. It’ll take a lifetime to explore her body, mind, and soul, and I’m already counting the ways to do so.

We spend the evening and wee hours of the morning going through the physical motions while cementing our emotional bond. We chat, nosh, and make love on repeat.

Eisley tells me about her stint in culinary school and her love of buttery, flaky croissants. She channeled her energy into her bakery business after having her heart broken. The bastard’s loss is my gain. She feard becoming jaded and disillusioned with love, so she focused her business on weddings, babies, and birthdays. Bringing joy to others with her creations kept her hope alive that she’d find love and happiness one day, too.

I tell her about spending countless summers cooking with my nana and deciding to open the Bakehouse because of her. Nana showed me, through example, the power of food. A meal can mend fences and heal even the most stubborn hearts.

By morning, I’m beyond smitten. Eisley isn’t a crush or a fling. She’s the real deal. The one meant for me. The clock is ticking on the one issue we disagree on. If we put our heads and hearts together, it’ll strengthen our bond rather than divide us.

But can either of us bend and sacrifice our values?