Saint Kate of the Cupcake: The Dangers of Lust and Baking

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Saint Kate of the Cupcake: The Dangers of Lust and Baking Page 10

by Fenton, L. C.


  I gasped in shock, but then his hot mouth closed around my cold nipple, and all thought left, except the glorious sensation of his warm tongue moving over it and the gentle tugging as he sucked. There seemed to be a direct connection down to my sex, which started to throb, and I felt a wet bubbling warmth between my thighs. His hand slid down my stomach and under my pants to dance over my clit and dip inside me until I was groaning, completely lost.

  The desire was unreasonable and irrational, but my body wanted to be possessed by his, and it wanted it now. I didn’t want to agonize about it, or think it through, weighing the outcomes. I wanted to have sex with Anders, and that was that. Consequences be damned; I’d think about it later.

  Anders stripped his parka off and raised my hips to slide it under my legs. Then he quickly slid my pants down past my knees, taking my underwear with them. He fumbled in the pocket of his pants, pulling out a condom before opening his zip and pushing his ski pants down far enough to free his erection. I only got a quick glance at him as he rolled the rubber over himself, and I had a moment of slight panic at seeing him fully erect, which was more than sizable, before he was kissing me and lowering his body to press against mine.

  He used his hand between us to guide his hard shaft until I felt it nudge the lips of my sex apart, and then he was sliding inside me, stretching me to the point of pain, heavy, thick, and hot. I shifted my hips a little to accommodate his size and moaned softly, urging him on as he surged up inside me, my hands on his smooth and tight buttocks, pressing him closer. Using his hard cock, he stabbed deeply into me, making me shiver with pleasure.

  He then slid his hands down and under my hips, lifting slightly to change the angle so he went even deeper and harder, hitting a spot no one had reached in a long time, bringing a wildness to the pleasure enveloping me. I was swallowing the masculinity of him, even as he was piercing me, drinking him down with a need I hadn’t known was within me. I could feel the excitement building with the feeling of him as he started pounding faster inside me and a tingling in my clit before I exploded with a short scream and felt my bones melt as tides of pleasure rippled outward through my body. Anders threw his head back as he buried himself inside me again and again until, with a strangled cry, he collapsed on top of me. It had been quick and straightforward, no bells or whistles, but easily the best sex I’d had in years.

  “Oh…holy…fuck,” I breathed softly when the power of speech returned. Anders raised himself up on his elbows to look at me.

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “Yes, no…both.” I was making no sense.

  “Regrets already?” He seemed to tense.

  “Not yet, but I’m still flooded by endorphins. It will probably come later, but right now I’m freezing my butt off.” It was true; I had the urgent physical need to get back into the warmth of my clothing. His jacket had certainly helped, but lying on snow, all the bare skin exposed was going numb.

  “Right, yes.” He withdrew from me and climbed to his feet. He offered me a hand to help me up, hamstrung as I was by my pants around my ankles. As I refastened my pants, he picked up his jacket from the snow and shook it out. I took my time adjusting my clothing, until I couldn’t put off conversation any further. It hadn’t taken long for the guilt to swamp whatever other feelings I might have had, with the exception of the toe-curling shame and embarrassment at my own wanton behavior, which seemed able to co-exist alongside the guilt. I felt the need to escape and be alone for a while to work out what I was going to do now.

  “I’m going to go back,” I mumbled, barely able to look at him. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Wait,” he said. “Can we talk about this?”

  “Um…I’m not sure what there is to say.”

  “I thought you enjoyed it.”

  “Yes, very much, but I’m married.” There was no point in denying it.

  “Haven’t you ever cheated before?” He looked surprised.

  My eyes flashed to his face as blood flooded my cheeks. “No!”

  “So, why did you?”

  “I…Let’s just call it a lapse in concentration.” I clicked my boots into my skis. “I’m sorry; I should probably be more gracious about it, but I just need some space to think things through right now. I’ll see you later at the lodge.” I finished more quietly and skied away.

  I couldn’t sleep that night, and rather than keep Jack awake with my tossing and turning, I went down to the common room to make myself a hot chocolate and read for a while. My time alone that afternoon hadn’t exactly been productive, and I was squirming uncomfortably internally. Jack, as usual, noticed nothing, which made me unreasonably angry at him. I had the uncharitable thought that if he paid me more attention and satisfied me sexually that it wouldn’t have happened, so it was actually his fault. While that would have been comforting to believe, any deficits in my relationship with Jack were equally my fault, and he would hardly be tacitly encouraging me into an affair with another man.

  I quashed the impulse to behave badly toward him and compound the problem, which was simply immature. Anders was fortunately absent from dinner, so at least I didn’t have to face him too, but then I spent the night wondering where he was. Probably out trying to seduce someone else now, I thought unkindly, then berated myself for such a mean thought. It’s not like he owed me anything, especially after my poor manners afterward, scampering away as soon as the deed was done.

  I was waiting for the kettle to boil, tapping the spoon impatiently on the bench, when I heard a sound behind me and jumped a foot. Anders stood there in all his masculine glory, wearing only low riding pajama pants. He scratched the back of his head lazily, intentionally showing off his biceps and chest to their full advantage. My mouth hung open as my gaze traveled down his smooth and hairless chest, past the defined abs to the sexy V-shaped muscles just above his groin. I had no idea what they were called, but they were like an arrow pointing to what lay below. His grin showed that he knew exactly the effect he was having. He sauntered closer, and my mouth went dry. The kettle began to whistle, and for a moment I thought it was me. I turned quickly to switch it off, and I kept my back to him as I tried to regain my composure, which was more easily done if I wasn’t looking at him.

  “I’m just making a hot chocolate. Would you like one?” My voice was slightly too high, but under the circumstances, I thought I was doing quite well.

  “Hmm…I do feel like something sweet.” He had moved closer and was standing directly behind me. His skin smells like sunshine, I thought dazedly. I felt him move the thick curtain of my hair to the side to expose my neck before his lips started slowly kissing up toward my ear, sending goose bumps of pleasure straight down to my toes.

  “What are you doing?” I breathed, gripping the bench for support as my knees went weak.

  “Distracting you. Maybe you’ll have another ‘lapse.’” His large hands went around my waist, pulling me against him and breathing in deeply. His hands wandered up to cup my breasts through the thin fabric of my T-shirt, tweaking the nipples slightly when they hardened into points. My wanton body arched out to increase the contact, and my head fell back against his chest.

  One of his hands left my breast and slipped inside the waistband of my pajama pants and down between my legs, and my eyes rolled back in my head. My hands gripped his thighs, and I was carried away by the waves of pleasure rolling over me from the effects of his long and very talented fingers. I felt him grow hard against my back, and I reached around to find him and easily slipped a hand inside his loose pants to stroke his impressive length firmly. He groaned in response and started thrusting into my hand.

  “I want to be inside you,” he said raggedly, undoing the drawstring on my pants, which fell into a puddle on the floor. He turned me to face him, and we started kissing voraciously as he lifted me up onto the bench, moved in between my thighs, and slid smoothly inside of me; I was wet and ready.

  “Wait! We need a condom.” I had no thoughts about s
topping him. What few thoughts I’d had since he walked into the room had led to the conclusion that I had already been unfaithful and might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, as the saying went. It was pure sex, uncomplicated by baggage, simply pleasure. Why not, now that I’d already crossed that line? More than crossed it, really; I’d galloped crazily over it with barely a passing glance to mark my passage.

  “God, you feel so good.” He moved his hips in a circular motion. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” I gasped.

  “Okay, hold on.” He grabbed me around the waist with one hand, and the other supported my bottom, and while still inside me, he shuffled us over to his room on the far side of the common room. With a slight jerk that sent him further inside me, he opened the door and, closing it with one foot, fell with me underneath him onto the bed.

  “That was pretty impressive,” I whispered as he leaned over to the bedside table and retrieved a condom. Not many men would have been able to carry me.

  A slight smile made the corners of his mouth turn up. “I thought you may not let me back in, so I had to make the most of it.” He began to thrust gently as he kissed me until my head spun.

  “Condom!” I gasped.

  “Yes, okay. You sure?” He grinned cheekily.

  “Absolutely,” I said as firmly as I could. He ripped the condom packed with his teeth to open it and withdrew.

  “Shall I do it?” I offered.

  “I’m not sure I could hold on with you touching me. Next time.” He rolled it quickly onto himself and slid back up inside me.

  “There may not be a next time,” I said breathily, my eyes closing.

  “I’ll have to make sure there is, then.”

  “You’re very cocky.”

  “I’ve been told I’m pretty well-endowed, so I guess you could say that.” His smile widened into a grin.

  “Hmm…” I couldn’t find the words to carry on the conversation, so I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull his face toward mine and started kissing him. He responded enthusiastically, and we were carried away again with the delights of each other’s bodies and the thrill of illicit sex.

  Chapter Eleven

  I WOKE BOLT UPRIGHT at the sounds of people making breakfast in the common room next door.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I said under my breath, completely panicked. Jack would be wondering where I was and why I hadn’t gone back to bed last night. I reached for my clothes and started to get dressed, but my pajama bottoms were missing. Shit! They were still on the floor in the kitchen! There was no way out and it was going to be ugly and very public and I would have to do it with no pants on. I sat on the bed chewing my lip, wondering what to do and how on earth I was going to get up off the bed, knowing what awaited beyond that door was utter humiliation, for Jack and myself.

  Anders’ huge arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me back to him.

  “Good morning.” He smiled lazily, his eyes still half closed.

  “Oh, God, Anders!” I wailed quietly. “It’s a disaster! I fell asleep, and now everyone is awake and having breakfast. If I walk out of your room, everyone is going to know. Jack is probably already looking for me!”

  “Don’t worry,” he said soothingly. “I’ll tell him you went out.”

  “My coat is still hanging near the door. He’ll know I didn’t. And my pants are still on the kitchen floor!”

  “No problem. Leave it to me.” He hoisted himself off the bed, threw on a T-shirt over his naked chest, and pulled on his pajama pants that were lying on the floor. He opened the door and quickly walked out, closing it behind him. I waited anxiously but couldn’t hear anything for several minutes until I heard Jack’s voice asking whoever was in the common room if they’d seen me. Several voices answered “no,” and then I heard Anders say, “I saw her earlier this morning. She was on her way out to the village. She said to tell you she wanted to let you sleep but wasn’t feeling like skiing this morning and you should go without her.”

  “Why was she going to the village?” He sounded puzzled.

  “I think she said she was going for a walk then getting a massage and doing some shopping.”

  “Oh.” I could hear the relaxation in Jack’s voice, clearly mollified by the explanation. It was something I would do, and Jack would be happy to avoid having to go shopping with me. The conversation continued on, Jack arranging to ski with some of the others who were there, saying his knee felt better. After a few minutes, I could hear them collecting their things and heading for the door.

  “Not skiing today?” someone asked.

  “I’ve got some scripts I have to read, but I’ll go out later. Have a good day!” Anders answered cheerily, his voice getting closer to the door. He opened it and slipped inside, handing me my pajama bottoms that he had rolled into a small ball and concealed under his loose T-shirt. We waited silently, looking at each other until the front door slammed for the last time and the lodge was quiet.

  “What did you do about my coat?”

  “I put it underneath mine. It is completely covered.”

  “Oh…good thinking. You are really quite adept at this.”

  He was completely calm and professional, and I didn’t want to think about how many times he had done this before. Clearly, potentially jealous husbands didn’t faze him.

  “I’m motivated by the proximity of your luscious body.” He flopped down onto the bed and pulled me over on top of him, his hands running up and down the curve of my back. “And now we have all morning with no interruptions and a nice warm bed to get better acquainted.” He pulled my mouth down to his and kissed me thoroughly until my toes tingled and my anxiety melted away. I gave in to the liquid desire pulsing through my veins and his enthusiastic and inventive lovemaking. By the time the morning was over, there was no part of either of us that hadn’t been kissed or licked, and I left him sated and sleepy in his bed. On rubbery legs, I climbed the stairs to my room and had a long shower to wash away the external traces of my unfaithfulness.

  I slept for a while and was reading on the bed when Jack returned in the afternoon. He suggested we go out for dinner, and I quickly agreed. I had deliberately not gone down into the common room for the rest of the day, and not seeing Anders at dinner would give me some much needed space. It had been a close call this morning, and throwing away my marriage for a holiday fling was really stupid. Jack deserved better than that. He shouldn’t have to suffer public humiliation because I was weak and horny.

  I fought the urge to seek out Anders, though he occupied my thoughts as if he were a narcotic. Like a glutton, I wanted to wallow in the intoxicating allure of him and the way he made me feel: like a woman able to revel in her sexuality, confident that she was made to give and receive pleasure. But as I had to keep reminding myself, the reality was that I wasn’t free and my life had other guises I was expected to dress in: mother and wife, sexuality firmly in check. Part of me railed against it, but what was the point? So, my partner no longer saw me as a sexual being, but I didn’t generally see myself as such either. There was no longer the time or the inclination for the abandon that it required, should the desire have been there in the first place. I had cheerfully killed off that part of myself after our children were born, with what I think was a quiet sigh of relief from Jack.

  Anders, on the other hand, had resurrected the lusty beast, who was now loath to be leashed again. With only two more days left, I could manage this, I told myself. A return to domesticity would surely anesthetize whatever remained alive after the holiday was over, and then I could decide with a cool head what to do about my marriage.

  I dressed with greater care than usual to go out that night, clothing immaculate and makeup perfect. I blow-dried my hair until it fell in a glossy dark brown sheet around my shoulders. I stared at myself in the mirror, surprised that I looked the same as always, light golden brown eyes staring back at me, unchanged. I examined my face carefully, sure that some evidence of my infidelity would
show there like a brand for everyone to see. Apparently not, though. Just the usual face looking quizzically back at me. Jack, oblivious as always, simply asked if I was ready. I nodded, applying a last coat of rose-colored gloss, hoping and not hoping to see Anders on the way out.

  Our friends were relaxing on the lounges, reading, talking, and drinking large glasses of red wine when we walked out. Anders was sitting with them, with his back to us. I didn’t look directly at him, but I could see him in my peripheral vision turning around. Involuntarily, I looked down at him. His face twisted back to look at us, his head big and leonine, blue eyes admiring, but with a telltale look that was far more intimate than should be there. Heat flowed through me, and I had the foolhardy urge to go to him and fulfill the promise in his eyes. Disturbed by the ease at which I might be discovered by something as simple as our looking at each other, I hurried us out the door before Jack noticed.

  As usual, dinner was nice and uniformly pleasant. We had been together as a couple since our early twenties, so it was easy to slip into our default interaction: polite, courteous, and non-controversial. Jack said little, but I was used to our companionable silence. As long as I didn’t think about Anders and flashes of his naked body pressed to mine, the feel of him moving inside me, I was fine and the blood didn’t rush inappropriately to heat my cheeks.

  But the lack of obligation to make conversation left me time to think about Jack. Was I happy? The conventional wisdom is that something has to be broken in a relationship in order for someone to cheat, but nothing had happened in recent history to fundamentally change my feelings toward Jack, and I had never been tempted to cheat before. Our relationship had its issues, but it wasn’t bad, just not that exciting. Our primary interaction was as parents, rather than lovers, something that seemed fairly average and to be expected.

  I thought we would find each other again later when the kids had left or work no longer required so much of our attention. Had we let it go too far? Had our connection slipped away and neither of us cared enough to notice? I had no answer. Did I still desire him? I looked at Jack, carefully evaluating him. He was tall and good looking, slightly weathered by the years but still handsome in a more distinguished way. Though by no means perfect looking, he had become better looking with age and graying hair.

 

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