Baking Lessons

by Katie Allen

  Leah jumped as his fingertips brushed her sensitive rear entrance. He lingered there, circling and then pressing just inside her opening, imitating what she’d just done to him. She was torn between pulling away and pushing into his touch. No one had ever played with her ass before, and it was making her intensely excited—and just a little apprehensive. Her blood rushed loudly through her ears as her lungs struggled to pull in enough air.

  Keeping one hand wedged between her bottom cheeks, his fingertip barely inside her puckered hole, Hamilton moved his other hand back to her front. Sliding his fingers across her lower belly, he kept going down, farther and farther, until his calloused palm cupped her pussy. His middle finger slid inside her, stroking once before retreating. Before she could complain about the absence, he penetrated her again, this time with two fingers.

  She groaned, low and heavy, trapped between his invading digits and not wanting to be anywhere else in the world. As he pushed his fingers deep into her pussy, his palm ground against her clit, wringing another hungry sound from her. Vaguely, she realized that his finger on his other hand had pushed farther into her back entrance. It felt a bit strange and stung slightly, but it was also weirdly addicting. If he’d withdrawn his hand from her ass, she would’ve felt too empty, even with the fingers plunging deep into her pussy. Together, the double penetration ramped up her excitement until her head spun with need.

  His hands moved faster as he crouched down in front of her, staring at the juncture between her legs in complete fascination. Her orgasm built inside of her, scaring her with its impending intensity. It was like an overinflated tire, growing larger and larger inside her until she knew that the final, inevitable explosion would knock her off her feet.

  Despite her apprehension, there was no stopping it, not with him penetrating her ass and his fingers plunging deep into her pussy as the heel of his hand battered against her clit. She braced for her climax, knowing there was no way off this ride except to let the wave crash over her and sweep her away.

  She let herself go, feeling her orgasm peak as pleasure flooded through her. Her knees buckled, and she dipped down, not caring that she was about to land on the hard tiles that covered the shower floor. Hamilton’s hands were in the way, though, not letting her drop. Her body sank into his grip, lowering onto his penetrating fingers, driving them deeper into her.

  Her breath hitched as a second, softer orgasm rippled through her, and she ground down into his hold, wanting more of his thrusting digits. Her pussy and ass contracted with her orgasm, and he grunted, his hands speeding up as they continued to drive into her, faster and faster until he yanked his fingers out and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her hard.

  Once she had the support of his arms around her, she allowed her body to go completely limp, trusting him to hold her up. Her heaving chest was plastered against his, but she was too wrecked to notice how his hairy pecs ground against her sensitive nipples with every breath. Well, she was too wrecked to react to the sensation. She would’ve had to have been dead not to have noticed.

  “Is it always like this?” he asked when they were both breathing semi-normally again.

  “Like what?” She straightened away from him, testing her legs underneath her while clinging to his large biceps before deciding that she really could hold her own weight. “I’m pretty sure the answer is going to be no, but go ahead and clarify.”

  “Is it always so intense? If this is what happens when we’re just using our hands, what will actual sex be like?”

  “It’s never been even half this intense for me before you came along,” she said. “I don’t know for sure, but I’m guessing that real sex will literally knock our socks off.”

  His eyebrows drew together as he gazed down at her, his cool, expressionless mien returning. She didn’t mind, though. It was easier and easier for her to read his true feelings, no matter how hard he tried to hide them. “How would it literally knock anyone’s socks off?”

  “I’m not sure.” On shaky legs, she turned toward the spray and finished rinsing. “But I’m dying to find out.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Despite their eagerness to explore their potentially sock-detonating chemistry some more, they agreed to take a short break to eat the reheated takeout. Even that was fun, with both of them offering the other bits of food from their chopsticks.

  “I’m impressed.” Full, Leah pushed away the carton.

  “With what?” he asked.

  “Your willingness to let me put my mouth on your chopsticks.”

  He focused a little too carefully on the piece of chicken he was lifting toward his mouth. “My mouth has been on your mouth several times, and my tongue has touched your tongue, so it would be silly to balk at sharing utensils.”

  “Very true.” What was wrong with her that his ultra-logical words made her so wet? She squirmed a little in her chair, and his gaze locked on her, his head tilted slightly, as if he was thinking.

  “We should go to bed,” he said abruptly. His cheeks flushed dark red. “That is... You need to get up early tomorrow for work.”

  At the mention, Leah remembered that Q would be on his date right now, which meant that she was flying solo in the morning. She groaned.

  “What’s wrong?” Hamilton asked.

  “Q has a date tonight.” When Hamilton gave her a confused look, she clarified why that mattered. “I’m working by myself tomorrow. On a Saturday. Ugh.”

  He relaxed back in his chair. “I’ll help.”

  “Are you sure?” She eyed his face, looking for any sign of reluctance. Even though he liked her cupcakes—well, loved her cupcakes to the point of obsession—baked goods were still a paltry reward for all the early morning help he’d been giving her. “I didn’t tell you about Q’s date to try to guilt you into offering. If you’d rather sleep in and do normal Saturday things, that’s honestly fine. It’ll be busy, but I can handle it. I’ve done it before.”

  “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to do it.” The straightforward way he said it reassured Leah. Of course he wouldn’t offer to help just to be polite. Hamilton didn’t do politeness—especially if he didn’t want to do something. “I enjoy it. Baking is soothing.”

  Relief filled her chest with warmth. “Thank you.” Standing, she moved behind him and gave him a hug. Her chest pressed against his shoulders, and even that little touch ramped up her arousal. It was like she was addicted to the man. Trying to distract herself so she didn’t strip off the athletic pants he’d pulled on after their shower and have her way with him in the middle of his kitchen, she pulled away and started gathering takeout containers. “I didn’t want to disappoint Q, but Saturdays without help aren’t fun.”

  He didn’t respond except to stand and help her clear the table. From the way he kept staring at her, holding eye contact when she met his gaze, she knew exactly where his mind was. Luckily, that was exactly where her mind was, as well. As they straightened the kitchen, the silence tightened until the air around them was practically vibrating from tension. Leah started turning it into a game, brushing against him as she moved past, getting a little closer than necessary when reaching around him to place their glasses in the sink, letting her fingers trail over whatever body part was available—his abs or ass or veined forearms.

  His jaw got tighter and tighter as he wiped down the counter and swabbed out the sink. When all the food was put away and the kitchen looked pretty darn clean to her, Leah let her hip nudge against the bulge straining the front of his pants.

  The kitchen spun as he flipped her over his shoulder. Before she realized what had happened, he was charging up the stairs with her ass in the air and her upper body dangling down his back.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, laughing breathlessly.

  “Taking you to bed.”

  Since his ass was right there in front of her, she grabbed it with
both hands and squeezed hard. She couldn’t seem to make any sort of dent in the tight muscle. In retaliation, he gave her butt a sharp spank, leaving his hand there so she squirmed with pleasure at the contact. Leaning forward, he tipped her onto her back on the bed and then followed her down, looming over her on his hands and knees.

  “We’re going to do stuff in a bed? Not the shower?” Immediately, she wished she could take the words back. It had been dumb to remind him about his mess phobia.

  Judging by his unperturbed expression, she shouldn’t have worried. “Yes. We’re both clean, and we can deal with any fluids afterward.”

  Her laugh was strangled. “Why is your nerdy sex terminology so hot?”

  “Is it?” His smile grew a little. “I could continue, if you like. The greatest increase in sexually transmitted infections—”

  “Okay!” Her shout cut him off mid-fact. “Maybe not STIs.”

  “Right. How about I use my mouth for something different?” Without waiting for a response, he started kissing her.

  Immediately swept up into the lust tornado that Hamilton always inspired, Leah opened her mouth to him and tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging gently like he always did to her. From the sound he made against her mouth, he liked it just as much as she had. His hips dropped, pinning her to the mattress as he ground his erection against her covered pussy. She wrapped her legs around his waist, cursing her panties and T-shirt. Why had she bothered to get dressed after their shower? She should’ve known that clothes would just be a frustrating barrier.

  Pushing up her shirt, he kissed her belly, making her sensitive skin flinch and prickle with goose bumps. His mouth followed his hands as he pushed the hem higher and higher, until she lifted her arms over her head, and he pulled the shirt off and tossed it to the side. She expected him to start kissing her again then, or maybe suck on her nipples, but he surprised her by rolling her onto her side, facing away from him.

  He kissed her back—long, wet kisses that slowly worked their way up her spine until he reached the nape of her neck. By that time, she was moaning, her hips tipping back toward him, her pussy trying to find his cock or his hand or his tongue, anything that would assuage this burning ache. He stretched out behind her, pressing his front to the full length of her back, but it still wasn’t enough contact for Leah—she needed more.

  Trailing his hand over her side, following the slope down at her waist and back up again to her hip, he slid his fingers toward her throbbing center. When he cupped her pussy, she let out a low moan. No matter how many times he touched her there, it always shattered her in the best way.

  His breath bobbled a little as he pushed his hand down more tightly, flicking her clit with his thumb as he did so. With a hungry sound, she jerked her hips forward, pushing into the touch. The movement made her lose contact with his erection, though, so she quickly tucked her ass backward, grinding against him as she held his hand against her, wanting to get both the sensations at once.

  With a sound that was much too close to a growl to have come from Hamilton, he worked his hand under her panties. Lightly, he stroked the length of her pussy, down and back up again, before catching her clit between two fingers. She arched her back, torn between pressing into the contact and pulling away. It was almost too intense, having him touch her without any barrier, just skin to skin—wet and slippery and incredibly sensitive skin.

  Then his fingers were inside her, and she cried out.

  “Good?” His voice was husky and low, all the polish having been scraped off, and Leah loved it that way. When he was all perfect and neat, it made her want to get him dirty. Now she’d done it. They were in his bed, not his shower, and his fingers were coated in her moisture. Even with him behind her where she couldn’t see him, she knew he was a sweaty, rumpled, desperate mess, and that made her crazy with need.

  He started to withdraw his fingers, and she clamped down on them instinctually, reminded that he’d just asked her a question. “Yes, it’s good. It’s more than good.” If his voice had been rough, hers was even worse. She sounded like she’d been screaming for hours.

  Her reassurances worked, and he pushed them back inside her, withdrawing only to drive them inside her again. His hips worked against her in the same rhythm, smacking against her ass as his fingers plunged deep, making it feel like he was actually thrusting his cock inside of her.

  Without losing the rhythm, he rolled on top of her, turning her onto her belly, his weight pressing her into the mattress. She tented her hips, not wanting to trap his hand, not wanting to do anything that might make him stop the wonderful, amazing things he was doing. Despite that, he still stopped, pulling his fingers out of her as he drew his hand out of her underwear.

  “Ham, don’t stop.” It was an out-and-out whine, but Leah didn’t care. She was humming with desperate need, and he was abandoning her.

  “Shh.” He sat up, and she started to complain, but then she felt him yank her panties down her legs. Shifting farther down the bed, he pulled them off her feet, leaving her bare. “I have to taste you.”

  A thrill shot through her as he shifted her as if she were a poseable action figure—a dirty poseable action figure—moving her knees toward her belly and then spreading them wide, so her ass was up in the air, her pussy exposed to him. Then his face pressed against one leg, and she went still, worried that, if she moved, Hamilton would realize what he was doing—and how very messy it was—and everything marvelous would end.

  He didn’t pull away, though. Back and forth, first on one thigh and then the other, he kissed her. Some were light brushes, some were long, hot swipes of his tongue, some were his teeth scraping across her over-sensitized skin, but all were incredibly hot. By the time he reached her center, she was mewling, her face pressed into her pillow to help muffle her helpless sounds.

  He gave her pussy an opened-mouth kiss and then groaned. The vibrations from the sound made her shudder and bite down on the pillow.

  “You do taste sweet,” he said, his warm breath hitting against her sensitive wet flesh. “I knew you would.”

  The meaning of his words struck her as his mouth found her clit. He’d thought about this, about her, about doing this to her. At the bakery, when she’d been trying to hide how turned-on he’d made her, he’d seemed cool and indifferent, but he’d been thinking about having his mouth on her pussy. Knowing that, along with the lightest scrape of his teeth against her clit, was all it took to set her off. She screamed into the pillow as she came, her muscles tight, pleasure rippling through her until she went limp. Only his grip on her legs kept her from collapsing onto the bed.

  As she gradually recovered, she realized he was still playing with her, kissing and nipping at her ass cheeks, licking the base of her spine. Her satiated body started to heat again, although more slowly than when his mouth was on her pussy. She pushed her hips into the contact, jolting slightly when the edge of his teeth pressed on the curve of her ass cheek. It didn’t hurt, but the possibility of it, that tiny bit of danger, made desire shoot through her.

  A needy sound escaped her, and she twisted restlessly in his hold, wanting him to continue what he was doing, but also to give her more. His fingers tightened on her hips, keeping her still, and that made everything even better. He kissed up her spine again as his hands slid along her sides.

  She was startled at how sensitive her back was, how each lick or suck sent prickling, eager shudders through her. He moved his hands to cup her breasts, his huge hands supporting their weight as he nipped at her shoulder blade. Leah didn’t know which sensation to concentrate on—the slide of his tongue along the bumps of her spine or the way her nipples, hard as rocks, burned where they pressed into his palms.

  He shifted again to nip sharply at her nape, and his fingers followed the downward slopes of her breasts to her nipples. Tugging and pinching, he wrung a cry of need from her, and she arched her back to press her
ass against his groin. His body covered her like a tent, protecting and sheltering her, and she wanted him closer, heavier, on top of her and inside her.

  “Please,” she said, her voice shaking with need, “Ham, please.”

  “Please what?” Surely that gravelly snarl hadn’t come from uptight, always-perfect Hamilton? Ignoring her surprise at his unexpected ferocity, her body reacted to the command in his voice, making her soften and heat.

  “Please...” It was hard to say the words, to beg for what she wanted, especially to Hamilton. By the way he was playing with her, though, tugging and rolling her nipples between his fingers and licking the spot at the base of her ear where her jaw connected, he wasn’t about to go any further until she begged. Taking in a deep breath that shook with desire, she forced out her request. “Please, fuck me!”

  His hands stilled on her breasts, and his mouth lifted off her neck. The only movement that betrayed how much her words had affected him was the pulse of his hips against hers. Even with his pants forming a barrier between her pussy and his cock, it was obvious how much her words had aroused him. Instead of ripping off his athletic pants and shoving himself inside her, though, he groaned.

  It didn’t sound like a needy groan, or a touched-in-a-really-good-place groan. It sounded frustrated. Leah had the sinking feeling that she wasn’t going to get her way. Releasing her breasts, he wrapped his arms around her middle, pressing his furred chest against her back.

  “No condoms,” he said. “Unless you brought some?”

  He sounded a little hopeful, but it was Leah’s turn to groan as she shook her head slowly. “No. Sorry.” Disappointment surged through her painfully aroused body. “You’re Mr. Prepared, though!” She knew she was whining, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted him so badly it physically hurt. “How do you not have condoms?”