Chapter 14
LUC
“Thirsty?” I asked Kylie.
“Yes, please.”
“Here, hop on,” I said, signaling her to jump on me in piggyback style.
I carried her on my back and headed towards the kitchen.
“Okay, your options are water, wine, tea, or soda?”
“Um, I think tea. I’m going to need to leave soon, so no more alcohol for me.”
I set her on the counter, her eyes wide when the cool counter hit the warmth of her ass cheeks. When did she get the impression I planned on her leaving?
“Stay, please.”
I wasn’t ready for her to leave, and no, I also wasn’t prepared to think too deeply about why that was.
We hadn’t played intensely, so while I hadn’t planned on aftercare, I was fully aware of how the brain worked post sex.
Especially with a new partner as we tap danced around each other, not wanting to overstay our welcome, and not yet feeling confident enough to voice exactly what we wanted.
“Oh,” she said, a surprised lilt in her voice. “I didn’t want to assume or overstay.”
I swept her flyaway hair from her face and met her gaze, her mouth beckoning. I planned to kiss her quickly, but shit, she tasted so damn good. She opened for me, her tongue swept out boldly, and my body hummed with need once more.
“Tell me you’re staying, baby girl. I have more plans for you…”
God, she melted right in front of my eyes.
“Okay. But I’m moving tomorrow. Which means I have an early start.”
“We have a home game tomorrow, and I have to be at the ballpark early. How about if I promise to make you breakfast?” I asked, using my stubble to tickle her neck, something I’d noticed caused her to become breathless more than once.
“It depends…”
“On what?”
“You’re not going to try to feed me fake shit for breakfast, are you?”
“What do you mean by fake shit?” I asked, amused.
“Like egg whites or turkey bacon? And please, no clay-flavored protein shakes.”
“Baby, I never waste my time with fake shit. Now tell me you’ll stay so I can open a bottle of champagne.”
“I’ll stay,” she finally answered. I rewarded her answer by drawing one of her nipples in my mouth and flattening my tongue against it until she arched her back, letting her head drop back as she supported herself on her hands.
“Okay. Don’t move.”
I left her on the counter and pulled open the refrigerator door, where I had a bottle of champagne chilling. I popped the cork, purposefully letting some of the champagne overflow as I stalked back over to where she remained sprawled out on my kitchen island exactly as I had told her to do.
“My good fucking girl. Kylie, goddamn, you’re beautiful. How the hell did that guy only have you once? I just tasted you, and fuck, I need more.”
“Whelp,” she said, a nervous flip of her head, “He might have said if he wanted to fuck some dead fish, he would have gone out for sushi.”
There was nothing about her that was dead. This woman was so hot, so fucking alive, that every move she made, I felt. Our physical connection was like an electrical current that drew me to her.
“You understand he’s a fucking idiot, right?” I asked.
She nodded.
“That’s my good girl,” I said, watching her fair skin pink up as she blushed.
She opened her mouth as I approached with the champagne bottle, I tipped a small sip against her lips and took a swig before swooping in and capturing her mouth.
God, this woman could kiss. With the next sip, I purposely poured too fast, allowing the excess champagne to pour out of her mouth and drip down her breasts.
I watched the quiver of her stomach muscles as the cool liquid hit them.
“You better clean me up,” she whispered. And I wondered what man or woman ever made Kylie think that she wasn’t sexual? Or was my reaction to her the outlier?
I took her nipple in my mouth and then swept my tongue under her breast, lapping up the remaining drops of champagne.
I handed her the bottle. “I’m thirsty, Ky. Pour for me.”
Her head dropped back as she let the champagne flow down the front of her; I licked and sucked each breast, but when she spread her legs wide, held the bottle still, and looked to me for permission, my mouth went dry.
She smirked only until the cool liquid hit her clit, and then she bit her lower lip and stared at me, waiting for me to make good on my promise.
“Is that cold?” I asked.
She nodded in response, shivering.
“Guess I better warm you back up then.”
I slid her ass to the end of the counter and pressed her back so she was lying flat. I groaned at the first taste, her musky taste mixing with the champagne in an intoxicating blend of flavors.
“So sweet,” I said. Her inner thighs trembled in response as she waited for more.
“Luc, please,” she begged, her hand fisting my hair as she tugged me towards her, drizzling more champagne down the front of her.
She rewarded me with a throaty moan when I latched onto her clit, flattening my tongue against her as I slipped two fingers inside her.
She cried out as I curved my fingers and stroked the front wall of her pussy.
She ground her pussy against my face and begged for more.
It wasn’t long before I felt her pulsing around my fingers as she came.
Her eyes were glazed, and her face flushed as I stood up to my full height.
“That’s the best meal I’ve ever eaten in this kitchen,” I said, “Hop back on and bring the champagne. I left the condoms upstairs, and I need to fuck you again.”