I rake my gaze over her. “What are you thinking about?” I ask, edging closer to her.
Shay swallows, drawing her lips between her teeth. Her pupils flare, swallowing the smoky gray of her irises. “Uh… nothing.”
Her whole face is flaming now, and I have to fight not to chuckle. I close in on her, backing her up against the counter. She groans as I press my body into hers.
“Are you thinking about me putting the cream everywhere, sweetheart?”
She nods, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts. I take the whisk from her hand.
“Question.”
“Yeah?”
“How mad will you be if I ruin this batch of cream so we can’t use it for the pie?”
“Please ruin it. We can make more,” she begs.
Well, she doesn’t have to ask me twice. I load the whisk up with cream and deposit a spot on her nose. Shay chuckles as I lean in and swipe it with my tongue.
“Not what I thought you meant by everywhere.”
“Patience, sweetheart.” I drag the whisk across her lips and kiss the cream off. “We’re getting there.”
The vanilla and cardamom taste even better mingled with the taste of her tongue. Shay tugs the scrunchie from my hair, and I moan as her nails scrape against my scalp.
I practically tear her clothes off. Part of me wants to take her to bed so we have more space, but the thought of the cleanup… No, the kitchen will do. It’s not a big kitchen, and there’s very little counter space since she has two stand mixers, a coffee machine, and a fancy toaster oven. But she also has a dining table that looks pretty steady.
“How strong is your dining table?”
“Pretty strong, I guess? Nico made it.”
That’s enough for me; as little as Nico is known, he’s known for his woodworking skills.
I nudge her toward the table, grabbing the bowl with the cream and the mini whisk. Setting it down, I lift Shay until she’s sitting on the table.
“Lie back, sweetheart.”
She obliges instantly. The table isn’t quite long enough, so her feet dangle off the end a little, but I fully intend to be lifting them anyway.
I grab a pillow from the couch and place it under her head, leaning down to brush a light kiss over her lips before I stand back and survey the scene before me. She’s naked, save for her locket, and her chest is flushed, rising and falling rapidly, her fingers twitching in my direction, like she’s struggling not to reach for me.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur, running my fingers down her torso. Shay sighs contentedly, her eyes closing, any lingering tension dissolving from her body.
It gives me the perfect opportunity to pick up the cream-covered whisk and drag it all over her body. Shay gasps, her eyes flying open as the cool metal wires and chilled cream touch her skin.
I paint her like a canvas, strokes of white with black vanilla and cardamom sprinkles. Shay always looks like a work of art, but I like making my mark on her, even if only temporarily.
I grab the scrunchie she pulled from my hair and throw it back up, because I don’t plan on having time to wash my hair before family dinner, and I’m not sure showing up covered in cream would do anything to put Shay at ease. With that in mind, I also strip off my clothes while she watches me, hungrily.
As soon as I’m naked, I pounce on her, running my tongue over every inch of her, devouring both Shay and the cream. She’s so fucking sweet, and the cream really is the cherry on top. Every little whimper that spills from her lips, every sigh of my name, feels like a goddamn sugar rush.
I run my tongue over her tattoo, licking the last of the cream. Shay watches me clean off the whisk with my tongue, warming up the metal, before I drag it across her nipple. She cries out, her back bowing.
“Please,baby,” she whimpers as I replace the whisk with my tongue, alternating my mouth with the whisk until she’s trembling. “Tu me donnes l'impression d’être au paradis. Encore. S’il te plaît.”
I know enough French to know she’s begging for more, and I’m powerless to say no to her when she’s speaking English, let alone when she speaks French.
I take pity on her, dragging both myself and the whisk down her body, settling between her legs. I could take it slow, tease her a little more, but she’s already so on edge, and I haven’t gotten enough of the taste of her. Her legs are already parted for me, but I lift them so they’re sitting on my shoulders, lean in, and rollher clit between my lips. She’s fucking soaked, and I press two fingers inside her, curling them and pressing against her G-spot.
