Share
30 || Must Date The Chef (V)
Paul’s lips touch mine. He’s gentle, testing the waters. My lips part in a protest and his tongue slides into my mouth. His fingers find their way into my hair, tugging gently on my kinky curls from the root. I rotate my front against his slight bulge. His palm crawls up the side of my breast and the voice of reasoning leaves me. I want him. I need him.
Our kiss deepens as we continue the lips tango. His hands move to my face, leaving me with a deep want for his touch on other parts of my body, on my core. To touch me in the ways Edwin never did. I moan against his lips, touching, feeling every part of him that my hands can reach until a phone rings.
A phone that’s not mine.
We separate to catch our breaths. My hand goes over my tingling lips, then moves to my cheeks. I can still feel the sparks, the tingles from his touch. I want more of it. I need more of it. The thought scares me and I try to itch away from him but he is not having it.
His gr
Related chapters
Throes Of Passion 31 || Must Date The Chef (VI)
Paul didn’t ask for my number. I didn’t ask for his. But we have a date. Today. This evening. How do we communicate? I have no idea. Two days since he fingered me in my car and my body hasn’t stopped playing images of that scene. I have orgasmed multiple times from the image alone. Did I ever come that fast with Edwin? I can’t remember. Our sex life was mostly dormant due to his hectic schedule. I tap on my keyboard and the laptop screen comes alive. One hour until my meeting with potential investors. My eyes soak in all the necessary details required to win a proposal, I pen down a few things and continue skimming. A knock on the door forces my head up. The next thing I do is survey my office. Everything is intact. Table, couch, mini fridge. Intact. “Come in,” I say, tucking the pen into its holder. The door opens but no one steps in. I stand. Might be the investors. One glance at my outfit—chiffon top tuck
Throes Of Passion 32 || Must Date The Chef (VII)
Paul is on his way. He’s five minutes away. Why am I nervous? He called me babe and I did the same. He ate me out. We fucked on my office’s couch. So why am I shaking? I pace the length of my living room. A song is playing from the speakers positioned under my television but the lyrics are lost on me. My phone rings. I jump. Geez. This is fine. It’s just a date. What if he doesn’t ask me to be his girlfriend? He has to be the one to do the asking. I snatch the phone from the sofa. “Hey,” I greet. “I’m here,” comes his voice. Another wave of dread rolls through me. I clear my throat. “Cool. It’s apartment two.” The call ends. I tighten the robe around me and wait. Minutes later, there’s a knock on my door. I stalk to the door and open it. It’s him. It’s Paul in a tux. My breath ceases. My gaze trails him from head to t
Throes Of Passion 33 || Forgive me, father (I)
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” the feminine voice whispered. “It has been a week since my last confession.” The priest grunted for her to continue. “I’ve been a bad girl, Father.” She purred and hooked her finger under the strap of her bra, letting it down her shoulder slowly to reveal the swell of her breast. Her voice lowered to a throaty whisper. “A verryy bad girl and I’d like to be punished.” She put her hands together saying, “Please punish me as the Lord wills it.” “Our Lord Jesus is always willing to forgive our sins. His infinite mercy lasts forever.” Freya nodded. She needed more than words, she needed actions. Spanking. “Confess your sins, child.” Freya propped her elbows on the kneeler. The opening that separated her from the priest hid his face but his voice was familiar. Her nipples hardened to pebbles. She pressed her legs together. “I touched myself, Father.” Freya shivered from the memory. She could feel herself growing wet from the
Throes Of Passion 34 || Forgive me, father (II)
“Baby?” Disappointment heavily coated that word, creeping into the air. Freya slapped her hands over her mouth and swallowed the rest of her words. She was not allowed to slip up during confession. “No. I meant Father.” A grunt came from the confessional. Freya’s eyes watered at the thought of getting an extra punishment in addition to this. Her husband wouldn’t fuck her if confession time didn’t go so well. The dim-lit room was silent for a long moment. She widened her legs for him, showed off the pussy she wouldn’t touch unless he permitted. “I’m sorry, Father. I accept my punishment.” “Take off your bra.” She undid her bra and her breasts bounced free. They hung low on her chest and she shivered. The AC made her nipples erect, she itched to fondle them but she wouldn’t. “Show me how you touched yourself. Please. . .” Freya’s hand moved to her taut nipple, she kneaded it between her fingers and breathed out a moan. “Don’t forget the ice.” She nodded. “Child
Throes Of Passion 35 || Mr Reluctant Billionaire (I)
Our wedding is a small one, held in the backyard of my new home with my handsome husband. He is white, British to be exact. Brandon is his name. He’s a beautiful man to look at and I don’t mind spending the rest of our reception staring at him. His lips are not as thin as you will expect from a British man, they are full and pouty. Speaking of the devil, Brandon walks up to us with a glass containing similar content as the other guests. Our skin colour clashes. The white of his skin pales in comparison to the black of mine. I hope my parents were right about this marriage. I’m only doing this because of my love for them. He whispers into my ear, “You make a beautiful bride, El.” His words take a few seconds to settle in. When they do, my heart gallops and my nipples harden behind my sleeveless gown. He dumps his glass into the tray of a passing server. Wrapping his arms around my waist from behind, he tucks his head into the space between my neck and shoulder
Throes Of Passion 36 || Mr Reluctant Billionaire (II)
Other men would be excited at having a virgin for a wife but not my husband. We are on our honeymoon in Paris and he wouldn’t touch me beyond a few kisses. He has not even provided an answer to my question. What is so wrong with being a virgin? If he has no intention of having sex with me, why are we on a honeymoon? Brandon stares at me for so long I squirm. It’s only one week into our marriage and I’m already having serious doubts. The bed dips with his weight and a painful silence ensues. His fingers caress my cheek but I swat it away. He hoists me on his lap and a deep line mars his forehead. “Sex in my world is different,” he finally says. He runs his fingers through his hair, letting some of the brown locks fall over his forehead. I palm his cheek, the pad of my thumb caresses his prominent cheekbone. “I don’t love. I fuck.” Oh. He is a dom. And I want to be his sub. “You can teach me; you can show me how.” Brandon’s hand
Throes Of Passion 37 || Mr Reluctant Billionaire (III)
Brandon and I are not talking. It has been days since the ugly incident and the end of our honeymoon. And we have only managed a few words to each other. The door to the study opens and Brandon walks in. Usually, I’ll plug in my earpiece or pretend to be busy but I do the opposite. I flip to the next page of my study material. He settles down on the couch closest to the fireplace. I’m not sure why she’s here but I’m glad he is. We don’t speak for the next few seconds. I muster courage and walk over to him. His brows shoot up but I’m not deterred as I pry the book from him to straddle him. “Okay, Brandon. I messed that one up but I want to be your sub again,” I say in a voice below a whisper. Brandon is quiet but his arms circle my waist. “I want to be your sub again.” He palms my breasts and my head falls back. “Will you swallow what I give you to swallow or throw up like you did the last time?” My answer is delayed. “Must I?” I ask with a face slight
Throes Of Passion 38 || Mrs Reluctant Billionaire (I)
I am stalking my wife. I am cyberstalking her with no intention of stopping. Elna’s bewitching body fills my laptop screen and I bend the laptop to get the perfect view of her body. A smile curves my lips when her robe drops to the floor to reveal her in her naked glory and a groan slips from my lips. She’s flawless. As always, El traces the stretch marks on her tummy, marks that appeared after the twins’ birth. That odd look creeps into her eyes as she stares into the mirror and I have to push my phone away to stop myself from sending her an appreciation text. She is beautiful just the way she is. Those stretch marks don’t diminish her beauty or awesomeness. For fuck’s sake, she brought two treasures into this world, she needs to give herself and body more credit. And oh, Lord, look at those breasts. Those brown nipples I miss running my tongue over. Sucking them. I know I fucked up badly, causing the break in our marriage but a lot of good h
Latest chapter
- Throes Of Passion 42 || Mrs Reluctant Billionaire (V)
- Throes Of Passion 41 || Mrs Reluctant Billionaire (IV)
- Throes Of Passion 40 || Mrs Reluctant Billionaire (III)
- Throes Of Passion 39 || Mrs Reluctant Billionaire (II)
- Throes Of Passion 38 || Mrs Reluctant Billionaire (I)
- Throes Of Passion 37 || Mr Reluctant Billionaire (III)
- Throes Of Passion 36 || Mr Reluctant Billionaire (II)
- Throes Of Passion 35 || Mr Reluctant Billionaire (I)
- Throes Of Passion 34 || Forgive me, father (II)
