Oh. My. God. Is it going to happen now? In the kitchen? Against this cold marble countertop?
My legs quiver, nearly giving out, but I hold still, keeping my hands flat.
He moves his hands between the crease of my ass, their warmth welcome as I’m suddenly freezing.
“Are you as hungry as I am?” His breath is hot against my neck.
“Yes,” I say softly.
“For food? Or for something else?”
“Both?” Damn that inflection. “Both,” I say again, firmly this time.
“Then I’ll feed you,” he says, his voice low and hypnotic.
I nod, my body finally acclimating to the cold countertop.
“But first…”
“Oh!” I jerk as he slides his tongue between my ass cheeks.
“Easy.” He grips my hips. “I need to prepare you for what’s coming.”
He continues to lick me, his tongue warm and soft against my most intimate flesh. The feeling is sublime, and I close my eyes, leaning forward. I gasp as my breasts hit the chill of the marble.
“Easy,” he says again against my ass. “Such a gorgeous ass, Skye. I can’t wait to fuck you here.”
“Wh-What’s stopping you?”
I wince. Did I really just say those words?
If he dropped his pants right now and jammed into me, I’d have it coming.
“You are,” he says. “You’re not ready. But you will be. Hold still now.”
A few seconds pass, and—
“Oh!”
He probes me with slick fingers. Lube. Like he used the last time with the butt plug. It feels nice and silky.
“I’m going to put the plug in you,” he says. “You’ll wear it during dinner. It will help for later.”
I nod.
The stainless steel is warm this time. He must have warmed it in his hands. That was sweet of him. It probes my tight rim.
“Relax,” Braden says. “Breathe in, and then out.”
I comply, and as my breath flows out of my nose and mouth, he inserts the plug.
Nicely done. I hardly even felt it this time. Clearly, I’m ready for tonight.
He pulls me up and away from the counter and toward him. “Do you know what it’s going to do to me, knowing you’re wearing that plug while we eat dinner?”
“The same thing it did to you during your meeting while I was with Eugenie in New York?”
“Oh, you have no idea.” His voice has a rasp to it. It’s fucking hot. “That day, all I could think of was you sitting at Susanne Corporate with your sweet little ass filled. Filled with the plug I put there. You didn’t know yet, but I did, where we were going that evening. I was hard all day. All fucking day, Skye.”
“So was I.” I let out an embarrassed giggle. “I mean, I was turned on all day, during my meeting and all.”
“I know. That was my plan. I want you turned on while we eat our dinner.” He takes my hand and leads it to his erection, huge and magnificent beneath his jeans. “I’m hard as a rock already. So ready to stuff my cock inside that tight little asshole of yours.”
A soft moan echoes from my throat.
“But first, we eat. Don’t eat too much. I want you to have energy, but not to feel full. I don’t want you uncomfortable in any way tonight.”
“All right. It smells divine. What are we having?”
“Something simple. Lasagna. We’ll each eat a small portion, and there will be plenty of leftovers if we’re hungry afterward.” He lowers his eyelids slightly. “You’ll be hungry, Skye. You’re going to use a lot of energy tonight.”
I nod hesitantly. “Whatever you want, Braden. I’ll do whatever you say.”
“Marilyn makes excellent lasagna.”
“I’m sure Marilyn makes excellent everything.”
He leads me to the dining room, where the table has already been set. Two glasses of red wine sit beside the plates, and the lasagna is covered. An Italian loaf with olive oil for dipping, and a small green salad.
That’s it.
And it’s perfect.
Braden pulls out my chair, and I sit, very aware of my nudity and even more aware of the pressure of the plug in my ass. My nipples are hard and turgid, and they don’t escape his gaze. Are you going to get undressed?
The words don’t make it past my lips, though.
This isn’t about what I want.
Except that it kind of is.
Both Braden and Rosa taught me that. I have power in this relationship as well. Right now, I’m exercising my power to not speak. To not ask Braden whether he’s planning to shed his clothes. Because ultimately it doesn’t matter. Ultimately, we’re going to end up in the bedroom where he’ll take my anal virginity.
How we get there isn’t up for debate, and I’m okay with that.
Braden sits across from me and serves me a small square of the lasagna. The salad has already been plated, and a slice of bread sits on my bread dish. Then he serves himself.
This is a casual meal. Normally we’d eat our salad first, but tonight it’s all served together. I smile. He’s doing this for me. To make me comfortable. Even though I’m naked, he’s making this casual for me.
“Dig in,” he says from across the table.
I begin with a forkful of salad. It’s dressed with a honey-vinaigrette that sparks my tastebuds. Nicely done, Marilyn. I pull off a piece of my bread and dip it in the olive oil. More deliciousness and again my tastebuds react to a tang. The olive oil has been infused with something spicy, most likely cayenne or jalapeño with a touch of garlic.
And then the lasagna. The sauce is acidic with a hot spiciness due again to hot pepper. Something I wasn’t expecting. This evening’s meal seems to have a theme. Spicy.
Just like what’s coming in the bedroom.
Braden was right about only eating small portions. Too much spiciness could cause gastric distress, which would put a major damper on the evening. Yet the tang of the food will also enhance what’s to come.
He thinks of everything.
Braden raises his glass of wine. “To discovery.”
I pick my glass up and clink it against his. “To discovery.” Then I take a sip. The wine perfectly complements the meal, as usual. Its acidity and lusty spiciness is perfect.
“What wine is this?” I ask.