My parents turned their attention back to us.
“What was that?” my mother asked. My face froze momentarily as I tried to figure out what would be appropriate to say. The little shit beat me to it.
“Alek was asking how I was feeling.” She wore a half smirk; I narrowed my eyes and shook my head in warning.
“Is everything okay? And with your room? Did you need something? We could go shopping tomorrow, if you’d like,” Mother said, ever the gracious host.
“No, everything is perfect. I was feeling a bit on edge, is all. Still am, actually, but I’m sure by the end of the evening, I’ll be right as rain,” she announced.
My father threw his head back and laughed, then toasted her. I once more leaned to whisper in her ear. “You’re so naughty. I won’t forget this.” At that, she swallowed hard.
Chef Bonfils brought dessert in. He flashed her a look, and I tried to read it but was confused. “I’m in no way responsible for this dessert, Mr. and Mrs. King. Thechild here spent the better part of her day destroying my kitchen in her attempt to impress your son,” he said, a bemused look crossing his face.
“And you call me dramatic. I’ll have you know I put everything back,” she whispered as my father chuckled again.
“How sweet, kitten. Please tell me it is a dacquoise. It looks like one,” I exclaimed as my parents watched us closely. She nodded as Chef Bonfils sliced it up and dished it out. She held her breath as we tasted it.
It was delicious, and as we told her, she flushed a beautiful shade of red. She then surprised me by insisting Chef Bonfils have a slice.
“Please, I’d love to know your thoughts, with you being French and all. I know the dessert originated from the city of Dax in the South of France.”
“It’s not a traditional dacquoise. An adaptation, but a very, very, très délicieux version.” He complimented her in his own way before leaving the dining room.
“It’s so damn tasty.” I licked my lips. The gesture made her gasp, and I wondered if she was thinking about the video I sent her earlier.
It was a simple video of me licking, sucking, and biting into a small orange. Since she loved it when I growled, I added that as well. I layered text over it that said, “What it sounds like when I’m between my sweet kitten’s legs.”
She moaned, and I leaned in and warned, “Breathe through it.”
A look of confusion passed over her face when dinner ended and I didn’t take her straight back to her room. But my parents insisted we adjourn to the drawing room for drinks, as I knew they would. All I could do was hold back my laughter as a permanent scowl covered her pretty face. Mumbling under her breath, she went on and on about nonexistent luck.
“My husband said he caught you singing in the kitchen this afternoon. Do you sing professionally as well?”
I gave her credit—Mother was genuinely trying. She was still uncomfortable with our arrangement, but because it was strictly Kinsley and I tonight, I figured she’d decided to pretend.
“A little. Not professionally or anything like that. My mother taught me,” Kinsley murmured.
“Maybe you can sing something for us?” she suggested.
“Yes, I’d love to hear you sing again. She doesn’t do it nearly enough.”
Kinsley turned frantic eyes toward me. A silent plea was exchanged, and I tried to control my desire not to laugh hysterically.
“I want to hear you sing,” I said, knowing my tone told her it wasn’t optional.
“As you wish. What are you in the mood for?” she asked with the innocence of a small child, but oh, the look in her eyes was anything but.
“Surprise me, kotyonok,” I teased.
My mother sighed and leaned her head against my father, while my girl moved to connect her phone to the audio Bluetooth system and pulled up a track. She did not disappoint. Her voice was sensual and full of the arousal coursing through her as she crooned the lyrics.
Flooring me once again, she made my cock ache fiercely with her little performance. Each lyric had me envisioning her under me as I fucked her to the song. She grinned mischievously, swaying to the music, even though the balls inside her had to be tormenting her.
I could read her so well. Her eyes never left mine as she sang her heart out. And I kept cocking my head to the side in warning each time she looked like she was going to tip over the ledge. As she sang the last notes, I stood.
Chapter 35
Kinsley
