Page 29 of Indulging Temptation (Tempting the Heart #1)

Now all that separates me from her entrance is the hot pink lace thong that burns in my eyes, like a beacon of light.

Mouth already watering for a taste, I cast the lace aside, taking the vibrator out of her, turning it off with the remote.

I become jealous of the slickness coating the silicone piece as I toss both to the ground, needing that wet warmth on my tastebuds, immediately.

“You’re so wet.” I observe with a wandering hand to her pussy. She’s so wet that I barely break the entrance of her slit and there’s already an abundance of her glistening come on my fingers. Unable to control myself while I rub the wetness between my fingertips, I plop my fingers into my mouth.

The whimper that leaks from me, deep and possessive, vibrates around my digits.

Heaven.

Literal heaven.

No meal cooked in the finest restaurant, from me or anyone else with the culinary know how could ever create something as sweet, and perfect, as the flavor embedding itself in my tastebuds right now.

Releasing the suction, I speak, still savoring her taste. “Was all that for me?”

“Yes,” she says without hesitation.

I bring the hand that was just in my mouth to her center, teasing her slit, gliding it up and down, while peering up at her, soaking in how sexy she looks when she’s looking down at me.

She parts her thighs, giving me the consent I need to enter her.

Eagerness overtakes me but I don’t want to rush.

I want to take my time. Savor the moment. Savor her.

My fingers slide into her, and she clenches around my touch, turning me the fuck on.

Advancing to a third finger, I pump into her, angling my hand so that my thumb is on her clit, covering all angles. With each thrust of my hand inside of her, I plunge deeper, needing to find the spot that will make her come again.

“Fuck,” she sighs. “Fuck,” she repeats a second time, sounding different than the last.

Her body and mind in a war with one another. “What’s wrong?” I don’t stop fucking her with my fingers as I ask it.

She goes to say something but what comes out instead is another moan. “Lorena. Talk to me. What’s going through that pretty head of yours?”

“Why now?”

I shake my head and as I do, it moves, like a magnet, closer to her.

“I told you.” I bite at my tongue piercing, allowing the bar to protrude forward.

An increased amount of pressure surfaces to my neck as her hands, still bound by my apron and stationed around my neck, create the perfect chokehold on me.

She drifts forward, circling her hips. My hand drops from her center, as her clit brushes up against the steel cap of my piercing.

“Not good enough,” she drawls, sucking in a breath.

“You embarrassed me.” She pushes herself into my mouth, and I groan into her on contact, suctioning my mouth to her clit. “You fucking denied me, Santino.”

She never calls me by my full name. Not unless she’s mad at me or means business. But right now, with her pussy in my mouth and her fucking my face, she can be either one. I win.

Switching up tactics. I loosen the suction. Extending my tongue forward, trailing it down her slit in one long, slow, and attentive stroke.

“I didn’t deny you. I denied myself.”

Not to mention punished myself in an unintentional bout of celibacy since that night in Miami.

“Is that so?” Excitement replaces her anger. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say she likes hearing the hurt in my voice admitting that denying her was a punishment to myself.

“Mhm.” I look up at her, flicking my pierced tongue at her pussy.

“But I already made up for that.” Lick. “The first orgasm I gave you tonight was an apology for Miami.” Lick.

Flick. Suck. “The one I’m about to give you is for the scene I made tonight.

” I plunge my tongue into her, and the neediest whimper flees her mouth.

I leave it there for a few pumps before retracting to finish my promise to her for the night. “And the next…”

“The next? You mean three?”

The shock in her voice makes me think she’s never had someone give her multiple orgasms in a row. A sense of pride takes over me that I’ll be the one to change that for her.

“At least.”

She moans. “What’s the third one for?”

“To convince you to be mine.”

“Yours?”

“Yes. Mine ,” I say.

“I-I don’t…”

“Do relationships. I know.” Of course, this is happening while I’m in limbo at her pussy. The obstacles are mounting when it comes to Lorena and me. And her stance against relationships adds another level of complication.

“I mean it, Tino. And you can’t kiss me like that again.”

Pressing a kiss to her pussy I look up at her. “You mean to tell me I can’t kiss these lips.”

“No. I mean, yes, you can.”

“Which one is it?”

“Fuck, I don’t know but if I don’t come again, I’ll…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence. I don’t give her the opportunity to. I’m too busy, too consumed with kissing the lips of hers that she will grant me access to. Way too preoccupied giving them the love, the attention, and the tongue fucking, they need.

I can tell she’s still reeling from the first orgasm.

Each time I make a pass at her clit, she shakes and mewls, letting me know it feels good.

Finding the perfect rhythm, I work my mouth in tune with her body.

When the feeling becomes too intense, I back off just enough that it gives her a moment to collect herself, but not too much that she can’t work up to another orgasm.

I continue to adjust the pace, sucking her in slow and attentively, and decide to alleviate some of the build up with my fingers curling into her.

I lose all track and sense of time when the waves of the second orgasm comes crashing — or squirting — in my face.

Good girl . I praise her in silence. Not wanting to give up the suction my mouth has on her.

I stay like this until she removes her hands from around my neck, and I rise to my feet. My lips glistening from her release.

I’m about to lean in to kiss her, forgetting what she said, but she stops me.

“Tino, I meant what I said.”

I laugh. She can’t be serious. “What is this, Pretty Woman?” I ask rhetorically. Jokingly. Because it has to be a joke, right? I mean, I literally have her come on my tongue and in my facial hair. Every time I swallow, I taste her.

“Kissing is too…intimate.”

“And making you come twice, one of which was on my tongue, isn’t?”

“You know what I mean. If Tomás finds out…”

I cut her off. “He won’t,” I say with more confidence than I have proof for.

She looks down at my groin for a second before her eyes drift back to my face, though her hand lingers on me…on my fucking dick. As she begins rubbing it over the top my pants, the warmth of her touch is sending me into overdrive.

“I’m still mad at you.”

“Even after you came?”

“An orgasm — or two — isn’t going to change the fact that besides our whatever encounter that almost happened, you ruined a job opportunity for me.”

“But it brought you back home.”

She doesn’t look impressed.

“Yep, home to clean up another one of your messes.”

“So.”

“So… I’m supposed to be helping with your image. This isn’t going to help with that.”

“Fuck my image.”

“Tino,” she scolds, but she doesn’t stop rubbing my dick. I swear, if she doesn’t stop, I’m going to come in my damn pants.

“Lorena. Please.” A universal beg. To say screw my image. And to relieve this ache she’s caused me.

A rumble from the kitchen distracts both of us.

She straightens her spine, but her hand doesn’t leave my groin.

If anything, the grip she has on it intensifies, hurting just as much as it feels good.

When the door swings open, revealing one of my sous chefs with a cigarette in his hand, he eyes us both, before doing an immediate about-face to go back inside.

“Fuck,” she drawls, letting go of me, and quickly adjusting her skirt, bringing it down from where I tucked it at her waist. “This was a mistake.”

“Was it though?” I ask, sounding sarcastic, though on the inside, I’m dying.

Nothing with me and her could be classified as anything other than what it feels like when our bodies speak to each other.

Heaven sent. Pure perfection. I was an asshole for lying saying that she was a mistake before, and now that I’m hearing my own words come from her, it sickens me.

“Yes,” she breathes, not sounding convincing, and it gives me hope.

A grin smears across my face. “Tell me, if this was a mistake, was it one worth making?” She doesn’t respond, and I take it as the push I need to continue. “Am I a mistake worth making again?”

“Yes,” she says without hesitation, though the confidence in her answer is short lived as her face contorts a bit. Wincing as she mulls over the reality of the boundary we just willingly crossed. “Maybe. I don’t know Tino, this has mess written all over it.”

She goes to step away, but I stop her. A strand of her hair falls out of place. I tuck it back behind her ear before placing my hand gingerly on her cheek.

“You’re good at cleaning up messes, and I’m good at making them.

We’re the dream team,” I joke but when I see she’s not receiving what I’m saying well, I switch up tactics.

Leaning into her, I bring my lips to her ear.

“I promise to behave, but only if you promise me something.” I let the words linger there and remain still.

Finally, when I can’t take the silence anymore or how empty I feel since she let go of my cock, I continue, throwing myself out on a limb, willingly.

“If you need someone to get you off. Make it me.”

She tries to step away once more, but again I grab her hand to stop her, anchoring her to me.

“Use me.” Please.

“Tino.” Lorena’s voice cracks as she says my name.

“Didn’t I make you feel good?”

The way she’s nibbling on her lip tells me my answer, but the lack of response is unsettling.

“Please. I can make you feel better than he did, or anyone will for that matter. I’m not above begging.

If I need to get on my knees again to convince you, I will.

Gladly. Fuck who sees us. I’ll stay on them all night, with or without your pussy in my mouth, however you want me.

Whatever it takes to convince you that my tongue and my dick are yours to use. ”

Let me make you feel like mine, so I can pretend I’m yours.

Lip no longer caught between her teeth, its tremble is impossible to miss.

A deep inhale expands her chest, and then another, and before I know it, I’m wiping a stray tear falling down her cheek.

Knowing I need to say something, I go with the first thing that pops into my mind. I can already tell from the way I’m smirking, fighting back the fury of emotions that I feel, it’s going to be something stupid, and light-hearted in an effort to diffuse the mood.

“Are you crying because you just realized I ruined sex for you?”

My eyes bulge at my own stupidity.

Real fucking smooth, Tino.

What the fuck was that?

It worked though. She’s smiling.

“Why? Because no one will be as good as you?” She bends down, grabbing the wearable part of the vibrator from the ground. “Not even this?”

“It’s a piece of silicone, vibrating or not, I would fucking hope I’m better than that,” I joke, shrugging.

“You are.” The sincerity in her answer adds to the hope I’m clinging onto.

“So that’s a yes?”

Her lips purse. “Tino, it’s not that simple.”

Nothing worth having ever is.

“Using my tongue, my hands, and my dick anytime you want to make you come as often and as much as you want isn’t simple?

” No, jackass. It’s not. Not when that’s all she’ll give me, and what I’ll settle for in order to have her.

Not that having any encounter with her is settling, it’s anything but.

However, she wasn’t lying. She doesn’t do relationships.

I don’t either, probably because any situation I’ve entered into with another has never been with her, like I’ve wanted it to be.

“Earth to Lorena?” I snap my finger playfully in her face.

“Anytime I want?”

“Anytime you want. The more the better.”

She mulls it over for a second, taking a deep inhale before she graces me again with a smile she’s trying to hold back. “Goodnight.”

Pivoting her stance, she begins to walk away from me. Without giving me an answer. Without me giving her that third orgasm I told her I would, to convince her to ditch any dick that isn’t mine.

“That’s not an answer,” I call out after her as she walks away.

Standing in front of the door that my sous chef, Roberto, walked through and caught us, her hand rests on the handle as she stops to look back at me.

“I know. But it’s not a no either.”

“I’ll take it.”

She shakes her head, her rich chocolate waves shaking as she does.

“Goodnight, Chef Amato.” The inflection in her voice makes it abundantly clear that she doesn’t want to discuss it now, shifting the focus on our work relationship.

Another obstacle wedged between us. However, hearing her call me Chef Amato, didn’t have the effect she was hoping it would have on me.

A warm rush floods my groin, watching her ass bounce and hips sway as she walks away from me and back into the restaurant, with the way she said my title and name on repeat in my mind.

It’s not a no, replays in my head next.

No, it’s not.

No, it’s fucking not… and I’ll take it.