Chapter Two

She remained imprisoned in my arms, her back against the cool marble, her eyes fixed on mine as if she could read every word I didn't utter aloud.

Despite the pan hissing behind me and the lingering smell of seared meat, I chose not to turn around. Trouble was the only thing I was cooking right now.

"Lana..."

Like a warning, I said her name. Her lips curled into that slow, knowing smirk as she cocked her head.

"You pronounce my name as though it were a curse."

I moved in until my hips came into contact with her knees.

"It could be.”

She opened her legs slightly to allow me to get closer. Her shirt slipped further off one shoulder as she leaned back on her palms, revealing soft skin that I wanted to lick. Torn between instinct and constraint, my fingers trembled at my sides.

I responded, "You're messing with fire," in a coarser, lower voice.

The sound of her quiet laughter curled like smoke around my self-control.

"Fortunately, I love heat." She reached up and pulled till the knot came loose by hooking one finger through my apron's loop. The apron pooled at my feet after sagging and then dropping. Her eyes moved purposefully down and back up, as if documenting every inch, and my chest squeezed.

She said, "You've been staring at me all night."

I clarified, "I've been trying not to."

Her grin widened. "Then give up trying."

She caught me by the front of my shirt and dragged me down, kissing me just enough to make my heart race. At first, I didn't close the gap. I allowed her to linger there, her tongue tortured me, her breath was warm, until I could stand it no more. I gave her a slow, deep, testing, tasting kiss.

Her nails scraped the back of my neck as her hand moved there. Something dreadful was triggered in me by the slight hum she made on my lips.

I retreated just far enough to gaze at her. "You still believe you're dessert?"

Her lips were licked. "I believe that I am the main course."

Her thigh felt warm and silky beneath my fingers. Sensing the shaking in her breath, I stroked higher. She didn't stop me, but she bit her lip. The lace border of her panties brushed my knuckles as her T-shirt folded under my fingers.

I whispered, "You're dressed too much for my kitchen."

She glinted her eyes. "Take care of that.”

I carefully lifted her shirt by hooking my thumbs under the hem and dragged the silky cotton over her ribs and stomach until it was twisted over her head. She lifted her arms, allowing me to fully remove it. The shirt dropped to the ground. Without flinching, she met my gaze while sitting there in nothing but those black lace underwear, her chest rising and falling.

"Is it better?" she said.

I tasted the subtle salt of her skin as I leaned down and kissed the curve of her neck without responding. As I ran my lips down to her collarbone, her fingers tightened around my shoulders and drew me in.

Alongside her perfume, there was still a hint of garlic and thyme in the air. It was delicious with each breath. The steak hissed once more behind us, reminding me that the burner was still on. Without breaking the kiss, I flicked it off as I reached past her.

She whispered, "That's going to get cold."

"So will we," I shot back, "if you continue to talk."

This time, as I grabbed her hips and raised her onto the counter completely, her laugh was short on breath and turned into a harsh scream. Without delay, she circled me with her legs, pushing her heels into the backs of my thighs.

In between kisses, she muttered, "You taste like wine."

I remarked as I slipped my fingers between us, "That's because I haven't served the good course yet."

My fingers traced her carefully through the lace, brushing against her underwear, causing her breath to catch. She tried to maintain her composure by biting her lip, but her little, uncontrollable hip roll revealed her identity.

My voice trailed off as I replied, "You're wet."

She taunted, "Perhaps it's the sauce," but her voice wavered.

I inserted my finger into her underwear' waistband and pulled them down till they fell down her thighs and over her hips. Unashamed, she kicked them out of her way and sat naked on the chilly marble, her legs still wrapped around me. I took my time. I noticed how her cheeks became red, how her chest was rising more quickly now, and how her fingers curled against the counter as though she were securing herself.

"You're gorgeous," I muttered.

A momentary softening of her smile gave way to something hotter. "Show me.”

Yes, I did. My thumb made slow, purposeful circles with my cupped hand until her head tipped back and her lips parted in a breathless moan. The sound passed directly through me. I moved closer, tasting her inch by inch as my tongue moved over her hips and tummy.

When I got to the inside of her leg, she grabbed my hair and pulled me in. Her back arched as my initial tongue flick yanked a piercing gasp from her throat. I took my time, enjoying every response, including the way her thighs shook around my head and the way she tried but was unable to remain silent.

She exhaled, "Oh Fuck," and I could feel her fingernails digging into my scalp.

My hands slid under her thighs as I withdrew just long enough to stand.

"We're moving elsewhere," I declared.

Her forehead furrowed. "Where?"

"The table at the counter. I'd like more space. She smiled as if she had just received approval to commit sin. With ease, I took her a few steps to the centre counter table as her legs remained around my waist. I put her down and spread her legs wide, letting the hard granite touch her exposed skin. She watched me as if I were going to offer her the best meal of her life while leaning back on her elbows.

She said, "Don't make me wait."

I answered, "You've been waiting all night." "You won't die in a minute.”

Her gaze followed the action as I undressed. She looked down my chest, then down again, her teeth catching her lip. She moaned impatiently as I gently undid my trousers, allowing the anticipation to build.

She reached for me and pulled me in until I could feel her heat against my body when I finally moved between her legs.

"Are you ready?," she said in a whisper.

I held my dick in my palm and stroked myself for a few seconds while staring at her pussy. Then I inserted my dick with a full thrust into her vagina without second thoughts.

Her fingers gripped my arms as she let out a piercing yell in response to the first thrust. As I went further, I kept my eyes on her, seeing how her face changed from one of surprise to one of pleasure to one of hunger. I started to move, slowly at first, then more quickly as her fingers ran down my back, keeping her stable with my hands on her hips.

I didn't care if the table creaked slightly beneath us. Her desperate moans, her gasps, and the slap of skin against skin were the only sounds I could hear. She pulled me closer as her body arched to meet each thrust with her own.

"Fuck, you are so—" I began, but before I could complete, her lips were on mine, and I had to swallow the remaining words. It was an eager, messy kiss,the kind that would leave you unsure of where you were...

Her breath raced as her legs grew tighter around me. Every tremble in her thighs told me she was getting near, and I could feel her evolving. I paced relentlessly, pressing my forehead against hers.

"Cum for me, Lana," I roared. As she split apart against me, her nails dug deep and her cry was rough and sharp. She was slack beneath me, her chest pounding but I continued to push through it.

Seconds later, as the release tore through me in waves of heat, I followed her over. I tightened my hold on her hips, keeping her there till the last throb died. We took a moment to gather our breath there. Her fingers entangled slowly as her hand sought mine on the counter.

With a loud laugh, she remarked, "You really don't care about the steak, do you?"

I answered, "Not when I've already had the main dish in the kitchen.”

She grinned slowly and happily.

"What's for dessert, then?"

I grinned.

"If you are capable of handling round two."

She smiled. "Chef's selection."