Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
S ure enough, Duke had food at his house. Specifically, cherry pie. Maybe I just had a thing for cherries because this was my absolute favorite.
“You don’t like pie,” I accused him as I grabbed a fork and dug into it. The cherries burst on my tongue, a bright contrast to the buttery, flaky crust. “Mm.”
“I had grandpa’s chef make it. I planned on bringing it and dinner over to you tonight.” He leaned against the counter and watched me savor my bite.
“Why?” I took another small bite. The hunger from earlier had ebbed so I could take this slow and revel in the flavor and feel of the pie.
“Can’t a guy just seduce his best friend with some pie?” He followed the path of the fork to my mouth, eyes riveted on me as I licked my fork clean of it.
“Not usually.” I shrugged and set the fork down. “I need some milk. ”
His fridge was immaculately stocked with a wide variety of food, including some fancy bottles of milk from a local farm that probably cost an arm and a leg. A little of that panic from earlier came back, so I grabbed the milk and slammed the door closed before it could take over.
I didn’t bother with a glass—Duke didn’t care—and took a swig straight from the bottle. He looked at me in a way that made me tingle before walking over, grabbing my hips, and licking a line of milk from my upper lip.
“Checking in,” he said, instead of kissing me like I needed. “How are you? Feeling better? Is this too much?”
It didn’t take me long to realize what ‘this’ was. I paused and checked in with myself. The grocery store was overwhelming, and usually, anything besides my blanket touching me would be too much afterwards, but this didn’t feel wrong. It felt right. I shook my head and licked my lips.
“Words, Lily.” His hands tightened on my hips as he watched my tongue move.
“I’m good. I want this.” I ran my hand along his chest, feeling the lean muscles under his neat, white shirt. I toyed with the buttons, but didn’t open them.
“Good.” He used his grip on me to turn me around so that I faced the counter. “Eat your pie. I want my own dessert.”
Before I could ask what he meant, his hands slipped around to the front of my shorts to undo the buttons there.
“Eat, Lily,” he whispered in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “Can’t have you going hungry again.” His tone was teasing and commanding in a way that I craved.
He gently pushed on my back until I braced on the counter. I reached forward and picked up the fork.
Cool air hit my back as Duke crouched behind me, pulling my shorts down with him .
“No panties?” he asked as he ran his hands along my ass. “Naughty girl.”
I nearly lost my balance as he urged my legs apart and canted my hips back until I had almost all my weight on the counter in front of me.
Cherries fell from my fork when I jolted and gasped at the first swipe of his tongue.
“Lily.” Duke pulled back from me. His voice held a note of warning. “Eat your pie or I’ll make you lick up every bit you drop.”
I whimpered at his command, imagining him directing me to lick his counters. It should have been bad. I shouldn’t have liked it so much.
I didn’t bring another bite to my lips, though, and Duke’s tongue traced a path along my ass, completely bypassing my pussy. It felt good, but all it did was make me restless.
Just when I was about to protest and beg him to move, his teeth sunk down on one cheek. I jerked at the stinging sensation, but his hands held me tightly, not letting me move.
He controlled every part of this, and I got the message.
Eat and I get pleasure.
Don’t eat and I get teasing and pain.
I wasn’t sure which I wanted more.
I whimpered and reached for a bite of the pie. Just a small one because hunger was the last thing on my mind. At least, not the kind of hunger cherry pie could satiate.
“Good girl.” His voice rumbled through me almost deep enough to feel the vibration of it, almost but not quite.
“Duke, please.” I tried to push my hips back again, shove myself onto his mouth, but he kept me still. “Please don’t tease me. ”
“I love when you beg.”
He dipped his tongue lightly into me before running it down, up. I didn’t even know anymore. My knees buckled when he reached my clit and gently circled it.
He paused there, and I took another small bite of the pie to encourage him to keep going, scraping the fork along my teeth so he knew I had.
Before Duke, when it was just my books and my hand, I had no idea just how much of a slut I would be for mind games and teasing. I was almost there, almost ready to come, with very little true stimulation. Just Duke and that wicked tongue of his.
“Such a pretty little cunt, all soft and wet for me,” Duke said when he pulled back. I was at the edge, but he wouldn’t let me fall over it.
“Duke.” I meant for that to sound demanding, as if I was even a little bit in control of myself, but a whimper softened the sound when he slipped a finger in me, and it came out breathy and desperate instead.
“God, I love when you say my name like that. Say it again,” he ordered as he bent to tease my clit. This time, he slipped three fingers deep into me. My world tilted at the sensation.
“Duke! Fuck, more, please. Keep going.”
He pumped his fingers in me and lashed my clit with his tongue until my world exploded and stars danced before my eyes.
Before I finished riding the wave of my orgasm, he pulled his fingers from me and traced them back to the place I’d always wondered about, but was never bold enough to try.
He paused, giving me a chance to say no.
I didn’t, though. I couldn’t.
It felt?—
“Oh, fuck,” I moaned as he circled me, gently at first, and then increasing pressure until his finger slipped inside. Somehow, just that finger, just the tip, felt massive. It stole all my attention. I didn’t know whether to move away, to move into it, to scream, cry, beg for more.
Slowly, he pumped his finger into me, not demanding more, as he continued to lap at my clit.
“Duke, I don’t—oh, fuck. That’s—” Another orgasm crashed into me, hitting me all at once, the intensity of it scary and amazing.
He chuckled as he pulled his finger from my ass. I had no bones—they fled with my orgasm—and I laid my head down on the cool counter, my eyes closed as I basked in the afterglow.
“Are you going to fuck me now?” I asked when I realized I had been laying on the counter in a daze for too long.
“No.” He picked me up and carried me to the bedroom where he stripped me down and slid into me while he cupped my face gently, placing soft kisses on my eyelids, my nose, my forehead, the corner of my mouth, everywhere he could reach.
He moved in me, slow and easy, like he had nowhere he would rather be than right here, connected to me, loving me.
When I came this time, it was as slow and easy as he moved, rolling through me like a soft breeze as he buried his nose in my neck and clung tight to me for his own release.
I didn’t know sex could be… beautiful, but now I understood why some women cried. A rebellious part of me wanted to rage against my stipulations in the deal.
One month. Just friends.
Except this didn’t feel like just friends. This felt desperate and hopeful all at once. I felt precious in his arms, and I never wanted to leave.