Chapter 11 #2
The blade dances up her thigh, back toward the heat of her center, and her eyes stay trained to its every move, her hands steadying her upper body so she can watch, fixated there.
Her legs tremble beneath my touch, and while the adrenaline might do good things for her pending orgasm, fear isn’t my kink.
“Relax, bella.”
Those hazelnut eyes narrow on me, her breaths coming heavy.
I tsk. “You think I’d chance hurting you? Not a chance I’ll risk this perfect pussy.”
Twisting the handle of the knife in my grasp, I lay the flat of the blade against her folds and drag it across her flesh, watching what it does to her.
Lexi curses, a shaky breath leaving her, and I bite down on my smirk.
Pulling the knife to the side, I dive back in, taking another long lick of her.
I can hear her groan, even muffled by the press of her thighs around me, and when I pull back, her head is thrown against the shelf, tossing from side to side, wild hair shaking around her.
“Best thing I’ve tasted on the line, yet,” I confirm.
“Fuck off,” she says through short breaths that are closer to gasps.
“I mean it. I knew you’d be spicy. There’s umami there, something almost earthy in your taste. You’re complex on the palate, Lexi. Intoxicating. Addictive.”
I take another taste, taking my time, and not being clean about it. Core, clit, lips, I lick it all, sampling her, as the flat of the knife presses into her thigh.
“Just a touch of bitter, balanced out by that sweetness that’s almost—” My head dives down again for a refresh. “—floral.”
She moans, deep and low, and I don’t stop, tonguing her again and again, completing my analysis.
Layer upon layer of flavor, with different notes that resonate on the front and back of the palate. The flavor progression hits all the right spots.
A burst of something tangy and even floral on the attack.
That umami musk that’s all her lingers on the mid-palate, deepening the longer I taste her, with a finish that’s satisfyingly sweet.
There’s not a recipe in my head that tastes as good as Alexis Weiss.
She’s a signature dish I’d put my name on.
One of a kind. A dish I’ll never have anywhere else. Lexi’s flavor is just hers. And I can’t get enough. When I come back up once more, I give her my final notes, as a professional.
“Perfectly balanced flavor profile. Just missing a little bit of salt.”
I watch as her jaw drops, clearly pissed that I’d dare critique the taste of her arousal.
“My cum would balance it out perfectly.”
Another groan from her that feels like fingernails scraping along my balls when I’m close to coming. The thing that could push me over.
“But this will have to do for now.” I spit, straight onto her gleaming pussy, and we both watch as it drips from her clit and heads south, joining the pool of wetness beneath her.
“Jesus, Chef,” she whispers, which is all the encouragement I need.
Scraping the flat of the knife across her skin as I drag it over, I center it on her soaking pussy and start playing.
I watch as her clit bounces beneath the pressure, compressing below the carbon steel and iron as it drags across her flesh, and then pillowing out again when the blade makes it to the other side.
It doesn’t take but a couple rounds of side to side like that for her hips to start twitching, legs beginning to jerk violently.
My hand that was on her stomach slides down to bracket her hip and hold her in place as the other strums her like a fucking guitar with my trusty blade. Old faithful, who never lets me down, doesn’t start now.
“Fuck, Chef, I’m gonna come,” Lexi warns, eyes low and heavy, lip between her teeth as she watches the mess we’re making.
“I know, bella. But I wanna taste it. This one is for me.”
Giving her one last pluck with the blade, I toss it down the line and use both hands to grip her thighs, holding them wide open for me as I bury my face in between her legs and enjoy the last of my meal.
My cock is desperate to lodge inside of her and feel what it’s like to be in the death grip of her cunt as she comes around me yet again, but tonight isn’t the night for that.
She’ll be begging for it soon enough, but I’m playing the long game when it comes to Lexi Weiss.
Need her to want it so bad one night will never be enough for her.
I slide two fingers beneath my tongue and curl them inside of her as my tongue goes into overdrive, working her clit faster and faster until she finally breaks beneath me. Body shaking, legs damn near vibrating around my shoulders, I finally hear what I’ve been waiting for from her.
“Yes, Chef!” Lexi screams, and I groan, mouth full of her taste, fingers dripping with her arousal as I watch her come undone from what I’m doing to her. A breast in each hand, she plays with herself in the open, eyes on mine until the pleasure forces them closed and I don’t fucking quit.
The pressure from my fingers ramps up, forcing her to give me more as she squirms, moaning and writhing over me, fully engulfed in her release, until I feel what I want on my tongue. A rush of fresh flavor—softer, honeyed almost—fills my mouth as she squirts for me.
Lexi slumps forward, a strangled oh leaving her lips as it overtakes her, realization dawning on those gorgeous features as she’s forced to admit to herself how much she enjoyed what I just did to her.
Maximizing it, I draw out her release, fingers working her together with my mouth until the last of the throes are passed.
When I finally pull back, my new favorite dish is slumped over on the line, barely able to hold herself up, when I assume everything inside her feels like warm, liquified jelly at the moment.
“That was insane,” she breathes.
“Felt insane,” I agree.
“No, like I’m fully certifiable for letting you do that to me. You’re certifiable for taking a knife to my pussy, oh my God!”
“Finding something you’re into doesn’t make you crazy, Lexi. Finding someone who’s into the same shit you are makes you lucky, if you ask me.”
“Lucky?” she snorts. “If I’m lucky, I’ll wake up tomorrow and find out this was all a bad dream. That I never hooked up with my chef—”
“And that you never squirted all over my line? Because I’m not sorry to say, you did hook up with your chef, and you definitely enjoyed it.”
Lexi’s face, already so heated from her orgasm, turns even redder. “I did not squirt—I can’t squirt—”
I hold out a hand to her in offering. “What’s this then? Hate juice?”
Lexi lets out a frustrated squeal and shakes her head. “We are never talking about this again.”
And just like that, the spell is broken. She jumps up from the table, scrambling to find her underwear and pants, dressing in a flash.
Standing at my full height, I watch her try to put herself together, but that new life that’s shining in her eyes, that doesn’t say regret.
That says coming again real soon.
“You might not want to talk about it, but good luck not thinking about it, Boss.” I cross my arms over my chef jacket and smirk at her. “I, for one, am going to come real fucking hard when I think about it in bed tonight. And when you’re ready to beg for my cock, I’ll be ready for you.”