Foodgasm
The day had started long before we got out of bed.
The house was different downstairs. In the bedroom, the air was thick with sex and us.
But as my feet hit the cold floor of the hallway, the scale of Dane’s world sank in.
I’d seen it before, but now, the high ceilings and shadows stood guard. It wasn’t a house; it was a fortress.
When we entered the kitchen, the familiar black marble and floor-to-ceiling windows still took my breath away. He walked me straight to the island, gripped my waist, and hoisted me onto the cold marble counter.
“Stay,” he commanded.
He moved with military precision that should have been clinical, but on him, it was graceful.
He pulled a bowl of seasoned meat from the fridge and reached for a knife.
Nothing held my attention like Dane’s chiseled, tattooed back.
He returned to my side and my breath hitched as he worked—peeling and chopping potatoes into perfect cubes with a speed I could never match.
“How do smash burgers and potato bites sound?” Dane asked.
“Dinner for breakfast—like a foodgasm,” I groaned as his knife flew.
“I love it when you make that sound,” he sighed.
My cheeks flushed as a smile spread across my face.
He smirked as he rolled the meat in the palm of his hand and squished it, placing one patty after another onto parchment paper.
When the sheet was covered, he spread a thin layer of mustard onto each one. I wrinkled my nose, and he laughed.
“Not a fan?”
“Definitely not,” I said.
“Don’t worry. You won’t even taste it,” he teased. He winked at me before throwing the first burger into the hot skillet. The meat hit the oil with a hiss that drowned out the quiet of the house.
“I didn’t know sergeants made enough to live like this,” I said, nodding at the connecting dining room and waving at the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“We’re having the money talk?” Dane gasped, pretending to be appalled.
“Yes. And from what I know of the militia, you’re supposed to be staying on base. You’re awfully suspicious, sir,” I teased.
“You’re overthinking,” he hummed.
“Am I though?”
He took a deep breath and exhaled. “What are you accusing me of? Because we already cleared up the fact that I’m not mated. You’ve seen my neck and every inch of my body.”
I wasn’t upset that he’d brought that up again, but I realized I’d done nothing but doubt him since he brought me home. Still, the question remained: who exactly was Dane? He rinsed his hands and ground seasoning on top of the meat.
“What about the guards outside?” I distinctly remembered soldiers. A lot of them. Hell, a lot more than I’d seen in my entire life.
He stiffened. I tilted my head, tracking the shift. I was always attuned to people—their attitude, demeanor—a survival skill I’d picked up.
Dane didn’t respond as he lifted the deep fry basket and emptied it into a large bowl.
He moved to the sink and rubbed his hands beneath the scalding water.
I remembered shoving my hands beneath hot water to keep my mind off things, and didn’t want him to get hurt.
I jumped to the floor, rushing to his side to lift the handle until the water grew cooler.
“Don’t burn yourself,” I murmured.
As he dried his hands, the silence picked at my insecurities. I fiddled with my fingers. He shifted, his eyes locked on me. He tipped my chin up so I gazed into storm grays.
“And you’ve seen a lot of soldiers where?” he asked. My eyes widened.
“Oh, sure. That’s what gets your attention?” I scoffed.
“That’s not an answer,” he growled.
“I grew up traveling with my Mother when she went to meetings. So yes, I’ve seen a number of soldiers.” He opened his mouth to retort, but I put my fingers against his lips. “Uh-uh. You asked your question. It’s my turn now.”
“One second. Don’t want the burgers to burn,” he huffed. He flipped the patties and topped them with thick slices of cheese, seasoning them a second time.
“It’s going to burn,” I said, watching as he covered them with a lid, trapping the steam.
“It’s to melt the cheese. I never burn food. Now, back to your question,” he said, pulling me close with one hand.
“Why do you have soldiers?” I asked.
He didn’t answer immediately. He turned back to the stove, his focus entirely on the sizzle of the pan. He scooped the patties out, stacking them onto the buns before piling the golden potato cubes onto the side. He moved with a quiet efficiency that made my question feel heavier in the air.
Once the plates were ready, he didn’t pick them up. He turned back to me, bracing his hands on the counter, caging me against the marble. He leaned in until our noses almost touched, his stormy eyes searching mine.
“Because I can,” he finally answered, his voice a low, vibrating hum.
“And because in this world, Vera, if you don’t have an army, you’re someone else’s property.”
“Is that enough or do you want more?” I turned at his words, glancing at the plate where a pyramid of potatoes sat.
“Any more and I’ll turn into a potato. That’s enough,” I laughed.
“So… no?”
“No, I don’t need to get any bigger,” I said.
He put the plate down and walked over, his expression hard. “Don’t do that. Don’t talk badly about what’s mine. You are fucking perfect the way you are. Got it?”
My mouth went dry.
“Yes, Daddy,” I breathed. He leaned forward, and I closed my eyes, but his mouth only pressed against my nose. I peered up at him, startled, and he winked before grabbing the plates, and strode out of the kitchen.
I took a deep breath to calm my racing heart before hopping off the counter. I followed him to the table, side-eyeing him as he passed me to grab our drinks. He returned with muscles on full display, placing a few different sauces down. I swiped the BBQ and squirted a generous amount.
“A woman after my own heart,” he feigned pain, gripping his chest.
I snorted, then bit into the massive burger with a satisfying crunch. A not-so-subtle groan fell from my lips, my eyes fluttering shut.
“Fuck. That good, huh?” Dane grunted, adjusting himself in his chair.
“So yummy,” I murmured. He reached over and grabbed a potato bite.
“Say, ‘ah’,” he asked huskily. I held his gaze and slowly opened my mouth. As he brought the starch closer, my tongue darted out, sliding along his fingers.
“Mm… salty,” I moaned.
“You,” he chuckled. “You’re a tease. Eat your food, Vera. Otherwise, I’m going to clear this table, spread you open, and feast until there’s nothing left of you but my marks.”
Knots. I’d like that very fucking much.
I couldn’t help but smile as I did exactly as Daddy commanded.
When I’d all but licked my dish clean, Dane leaned back in his seat, watching me. There was a glint in his eyes that promised sinful, delicious things. My throat tightened. A shiver ran up my spine. I jumped to my feet and grabbed my dish. He took it from me.
“You’re not doing that,” he murmured as he shook his head.
“What? Taking my mess back?” I laughed. The first time made sense, but at this point I was bordering on being a burden. He placed the plate down and laced his fingers with mine. He pulled mine to his lips.
“No, you can’t,” he murmured against my knuckles.
“I’m supposed to sit here like a princess?” I sassed.
His eyes lit up as he straightened.
“Is that… attitude?” It sounded like a purr. My eyes widened as the hair on the back of my neck stood. I squeezed my thighs together as a jolt ran through me and my brain scrambled to find something snappy to say back.
“Me?” I teased as I rolled my eyes. His hand tightened around mine and when my eyes met his, he smiled.
“Oh, Babygirl. Did you roll your eyes at me?” he chuckled. My spine straightened and my nipples hardened. For a broken Omega, I was producing slick like I was in heat. He released me and ran his fingers through his hair.
“Maybe?” I squeaked.
“And now you’re lying?” Dane’s voice was almost a purr.
My lips formed words, but no sound came out.
I wriggled in my seat as he tutted. He cocked his head to the side and his tongue darted out, wetting his lips.
I felt it between my legs and I bit down on my bottom lip to stop from moaning.
Dropping his hand, he patted the spot in front of him.
My chair squeaked as I pushed away from the table.
I moved, but a low growl stopped me cold.
“Lift your shirt for me,” he ordered.
Without hesitating, I scrunched the material and lifted it to above my breasts.
His eyes darkened before they returned to mine.
Even though I wanted to submit to him with everything I had, I needed him to take it from me.
I stopped in front of him, holding my head high before scooting onto the table.
“Anything else?” I asked.
Dane didn’t answer me. He stood, towering over me, I had to tilt my chin up to hold his gaze. His hand pushed back on my chest and I lowered myself until my head connected with the table beneath me.
“Spread your legs,” he demanded. I obeyed, opening myself up until I was bare for him. His eyes hungrily trailed over my exposed, wet pussy. “Wider. I want your knees to touch the table. You move and there will be consequences.”
I swallowed, but did as he said. The position pushed my hips upward, opening me completely.
It was like he’d peeled back a layer I didn’t even know I had left in place.
He leaned down, his head between my thighs, his nose trailed up the sensitive flesh.
My legs trembled as he paused right above my exposed flesh.
The warmth of his breath caressed my clit.
I stared down between my breasts as his tongue darted out.
It was long and when he flattened it, I almost moaned.
I was seconds away from begging. His gaze locked on mine as his tongue made contact, and I stopped breathing.
I whimpered as he dragged it up between my lips.
His tongue flicked against my clit and my hips bucked.
“That’s good fucking pussy,” he murmured as he smacked his lips.
“Dane,” I rasped.
A loud slap echoed through the room. I arched my back and cried out as pain spread outward from my clit.
“What’s my name?” he asked.
“Daddy,” I breathed.
“There we go,” he murmured. His eyes lightened a fraction before the darkness swallowed it whole. “You’re going to keep these thighs spread open for me. Every time they close, every time your hips jerk forward, I’ll stop fucking you with my tongue. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I whined. He moved and then the pain on my pussy caused my back to lift off the table as he slapped my sensitive flesh again.
“Yes, what?” he growled. The sound reverberated in his chest.
“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered.
“Dirty, filthy girl,” he chastised. But I gave zero fucks because he descended upon me and my knees bumped against the table.
I held them there as my eyes rolled into the back of my head.
I reached down and touched his face, ran my fingers through his hair, but he grabbed both of my wrists with one hand and pinned them down on my belly.
His lips sucked, his tongue fucked, and his head bobbed as he ate me.
He took his time as he savored every taste.
My walls tightened, aching for him to fill me, as his hard tongue slid back and forth against my clit.
“Oh,” I moaned as he started hitting the right spot. My legs lifted off the table. Then his tongue was gone from where I needed it most. My eyes opened in time to see his hand coming down. I screamed as a delicious pain sent vibrations through my sensitive clit.
“You know the rules,” he chastised.
I wasn’t even mad. I wanted him back between my legs, sucking and licking my pussy. My body complied, my thighs fell open, my knees back where they belonged. There was a twinkle in his eye at my easy submission. He held eye contact as he spat.
Oh fuck.
My jaw fell slack as he licked my ass. Knots.
He drew the infinity symbol into my clit, over and over again.
He worked my body like he’d known it for years.
His thumb pressed into my ass and I groaned as his tongue dipped into my pussy.
My legs shook, but I held them open. I tried to fight it as he brought me closer to the edge.
But with his thumb in my ass to the knuckle, his tongue speeding up inside my pussy, and his nose on my bundle of nerves, I couldn’t.
My ass clenched, pussy tightened, and he groaned into me.
My vision blurred as I arched off the table. My body jerked as I came. I was a whimpering mess, and I wasn’t ashamed as I begged him. He ignored my pleas and spanked my clit.
“Why? I listened. I kept my knees on the table,” I groaned. Then he kissed my clit before straightening up and picking me up bridal style.
“Dane,” I whimpered.
I need that dick.
“I’ve got something to put in you upstairs,” he promised.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, my body trembled against his as he took me upstairs.
When I looked up, he smiled and something in my chest loosened.
As we walked into his room—our room, my inner Omega whispered—I squealed as he threw me onto the bed.
Before I could yell at him, he turned away and headed in the opposite direction.
“No, go back,” I whined.
“You’re fucking adorable,” he sighed.
“You’re going the wrong way. I’m over here,” I pouted as he walked into the bathroom. When he returned, he held something I couldn’t recognize.
“What’s this?” I asked, still in my sex-induced mindset.
“I told you I had something to put in you,” he teased.