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The moment Chef carried her into his bedroom, Sugar knew that she had ventured deep into unmarked territory. His clean and earthy masculine scent lingered everywhere, dominating her senses and giving her a blaring reminder that she was in the presence of a real man. Chef carefully set her down onto her feet without breaking the kiss. She uncurled her arms from around his neck, sliding her hands down the sides of his bearded face and resting them on his strong jawline. She eagerly pulled his face down to her to deepen the kiss, showing him exactly how much she needed him in that moment until they had to break away for air.
Her heart throbbed frantically in her chest.
Her head swam with a euphoric wooziness.
She was utterly hooked on him.
Chef tried to pull away from her completely, but she held onto his face to keep him close.
“Don’t,” she whimpered.
“I wanna see you, honey,” he assured as he kissed her forehead, “and I want you to see me.”
After a moment of thought, she reluctantly released his head from her grasp and watched the outline of his body move towards a nightstand to turn on a lamp resting there. An amber light chased away the shadows to the far corners of the room.
Chef stood by the nightstand with his body turned halfway towards her and locked his gray eyes on her.
“Sit down on the bed,” he ordered.
Sugar eased down onto the edge of his bed like an obedient child, her attention never leaving his unfaltering heated gaze. She was a bundle of nerves set afire. The breed of excitement she experienced sped through her bloodstream like an unfamiliar drug. Her flesh was feverish, making her want to yank off every piece of clothing on her body, but she knew that the task wasn’t hers to do.
She tugged her bottom lip into her mouth and gazed down at the gorgeous man as he lowered himself to one knee before her. Her right booted foot was in his possession now while his fingers untied her black laces and slipped off the spunky footwear. He repeated the process with her left foot until only her crisp white socks remained but not for long.
Chef tugged those off too and brought her left French-manicured foot to his lips. He started with her pinky toe and gave it a light kiss before working his way over to her big toe in which he slid into his mouth for a savoring suck. His darkening gray eyes latched onto her face, drinking in the sight of her eyelids fluttering shut and her jaw dropping open. The sensation was new and exhilarating, which surprised her. Never did she think having her toes sucked on would give her such pleasure, but it did.
A lingering moan vibrated in her throat.
He released her toe from the depths of his mouth and kissed along the side of her foot, trailing his busy mouth up her bare calves and thighs. She was forced to spread her legs wider to accommodate the invasion of his broad shoulders. He planted a kiss on her throbbing pussy that hid underneath her shorts. He nuzzled his nose along the shorts’ stitched seam that laid nicely upon her cunt while his calloused caressed her thighs in admiration.
“I’ve been dyin’ to fuck you with my tongue for weeks,” he admitted huskily, his lips never straying far from her pussy. “Been fantasizin’ about buryin’ my face into your pussy and lickin’ your cute little clit until you cum on my tongue.”
His raunchy words were more fuel to her fire. If she wasn’t soaking wet before, she knew that she was absolutely drenched now. She squeezed her eyes shut and shuddered as his fantasy played vividly behind her eyelids.
“That sounds nice,” she breathed in a shaky tone.
She heard a sexy rumbly chuckle that gave her goosebumps before he commanded, “Stand up and I’ll show you how nice it can be.”
Sugar snapped her eyes open at the command and gazed down at him, thinking he would give her some space to get up, but he wouldn’t budge. She stood up hesitantly, her crotch still at eye-level with his face. He unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts before he slid them down her legs, forcing the garment to pool at her feet.
He helped her step out of them before it was tossed aside.
Her soft pink-hued sheer panties were revealed to him now.
“Mm,” he hummed in approval. “Is this my reward for winnin’ the match tonight?”
“It was meant to be a punishment,” she said to him.
His grin widened a margin at her words while his eyes twinkled with a mischief she had become quite familiar with and—slowly—adore.
“Oh, yes,” he replied. “I have been a bad boy lately, huh?”
“That’s an understatement,” she said, which caused him to chuckle once more. He hooked his fingers into the waistline of her panties and slid them down her legs slowly.
“I can be a good boy when I wanna be, but bein’ with you makes me wanna do bad things that make you feel good,” he admitted as he showed her how much of a gentleman he was by helping her step out of her panties.
Before she could even think up a proper response, he buried his face into her pussy as she stood before him.
Sugar gasped aloud sharply.
Her eyes widened in utter surprise and her legs buckled in weakness as his tongue eagerly glided deep in-between her wet folds. She reached down and grabbed a fistful of his salt-and-pepper hair as an anchor not to fall. His tongue pampered her swelling clit with hard swirls and flicks. Her head cocked backwards and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Her mouth let out a string of airy gasps and deep moans as he took his time eating her pussy.
She cried out when he eased two fingers inside of her down to the knuckle and she tightened herself around them.
“You feel so damn good. Taste so fuckin’ good,” he breathed against her clit before he stamped his mouth on it and drew it into her mouth, sucking it with fervor while he fucked her with his thick fingers.
Her whole body trembled as she struggled to stand as upright as possible and somehow succeeded the endeavor. She tugged at his hair desperately, wanting to expedite the arrival of the orgasm that brewed stronger and stronger inside of her. She rocked her hips against him, grinding her pussy against his tongue while his thrusting fingers stroked her sweet spot over and over and over.
Then she climaxed with a silent scream that tore through her.
She trembled as she succumbed to it. She squeezed her eyes shut, relishing in the intense sensation until there was nothing but mere crumbles left. He took all she had to offer and swallowed it.
She stood there catching her breath, feeling more vulnerable than ever.
Chef slipped his fingers out of her and put them in his mouth for one last taste of her before he finally rose to his feet, towering over her. Without a word, he assisted her in peeling off her midriff top and tossing it aside. His eyes trailed down to her breasts that were framed in matching sheer pink bra that left little to the imagination as her dark areolas and hardening nipples showed through the flimsy fabric.
“Turn around,” he ordered.
A panting Sugar turned slowly on her heels to face the bed. Chef unclasped her bra and she felt it fall to the floor. She closed her eyes and shuddered as his calloused fingers slid from around her ribcage and cupped her breasts.
She was in good hands. Good hands that cupped and kneaded her breasts slowly. Good hands that pinched, rolled, and tugged at her hard nipples. She cocked her head against his shoulder and moaned loudly. He dipped his head down to rain a trail of soft kisses along the crook of her neck as he played with her breasts. All she could do was relish in all the attention he was gifting her.
God, this man knew how to touch a woman and they hadn’t even gotten to the bed yet!
“You fit so perfect in my hands, Sugar,” he breathed against her ear as he squeezed her breasts gently. “You’re so perfect.”
She whispered, “I’m not perfect.”
He forced her to turn around and smashed his lips against hers, his hand cupping the back of her head possessively. He drew back an inch, his eyes boring into hers. “You’re perfect for me, ya hear?”
Breathlessly, she nodded her head.
Chef thought she was perfect, but deep down, she sometimes believed what her ex-husband believed her to be: an abomination.
“Now, get on the bed and wait for me,” he commanded huskily. “Then I’ll do what I’ve been waitin’ to do since I first laid eyes on you.”
Her heart throbbed violently in her chest. “And what’s that, Chef?”
How could she complain with that?
“Now get on the bed,” he ordered.
She did as she was told and began to climb onto the bed, but not before saying teasingly over her shoulder, “You don’t have to be so bossy.”
Immediately, she squeaked as Chef gave her a nice encouraging smack on her bare ass. She jerked her head over her shoulder to give him a look and drunk in the sight of him giving her a wink and a naughty smirk. She couldn’t help but smile back.
She crawled further onto the bed, situating herself amongst his pillows against the headboard. She chewed hard on her bottom lip and watched in utter admiration as he stood at the edge of the bed, tugging off his shirt, revealing his tattooed chest and torso.
He watched her right back like he promised. His gray eyes nailing her to the spot while his sexy face darkened with the promise of giving her a night she would never forget.
Eventually, he had shed himself of everything except a pair of gray boxer-briefs that clung in all the right spots, allowing her to witness the contour of his thick hard cock as it strained against the fabric.
Geez, she thought with a hard gulp.
His dick was more impressive in person and she hadn’t even seen it up close and personal yet. Now, there was a burning urge inside of her to get a proper close-up.
“Take it off. I wanna see you.”
A devilish grin eased across his lips at her command. “Take what off, sweetheart? You’ve gotta be more specific.”
“You know what I want, Chef. Take it off,” she ordered before adding, “right now.”
His grin widened a tad. “Who’s bein’ bossy now?”
“Me,” she answered, a seductive smile easing across her lips. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t soldiers are supposed to follow orders, right?”
“You ain’t wrong.”
Arching a delicate eyebrow, Sugar added matter-of-factly, “Then take them off, soldier.”
He finally obeyed her command with a nod and a ‘ma’am, yes, ma’am’ as well as a sexy smile that made her moist pussy throb before he took off his boxer-briefs. His hard cock sprung free and the sight of it made her moan in approval.
The bed dipped from the weight of him as he finally joined her. She squealed as he grabbed her left ankle and dragged her down the length of the bed, bringing her directly underneath him.
“Much better,” he purred before he dipped his head down to claim her lips, but she pressed her palms against his chest and used her strength to flip him onto his back. His bearded face was drenched with a look of pure surprise at the suddenness of it all. Immediately, she straddled his waist.
She gazed down at him triumphantly with a smug grin. “I win.”
His surprise was replaced with a look of intrigue.
“Pray tell the prize,” he queried.
She braced her hands on both sides of his head and leaned down, brushing her lips against his right ear.
“Tasting you,” she whispered before she flickered the tip of her tongue against his earlobe.
A deep groan rumbled in his chest and she smiled boldly—proudly—at the sound of it before she used her mouth to explore his colorful tattoos. She kissed and nibbled her way from his neck to his shoulders to his chest. She traced the heart outline of ‘kiss the chef’ tattoo on his left pec before she found her way to his nipple and kissed around it before she finally licked it before she kissed her way to his right nipple for some pampering as well.
She glanced up at him as she gently raked her teeth across his hardening nipple, witnessing a ripple of pleasure cloud his face. Her head swam with a sense of pride. Lance would’ve never let her take control like this, but she had to keep reminding herself that Chef was nothing like her ex-husband.
Sugar moved her way down his body, kissing, licking, and nibbling.
Her exploration ended with her knelt in between his legs. She slanted her back as she leaned down to properly greet his cock and braced her hand against his defined abs to steady herself. She marveled at how long and thick it was. She wrapped her fingers around it and gave him a nice stroke from base to tip. He growled in response.
Sugar dipped her head down to glide her tongue across his cock’s fat mushroom head, tasting salty droplets of pre-cum. She moaned at the taste before she took his tip into her mouth, swirling her tongue around him slowly.
Chef exhaled sharply, arching his hips a little.
Her body hummed in excitement at having such a strong man succumbing to her seduction. Eagerly, her head began to bob up and down as she glided her mouth up and down the length of him. She sucked him in a hard-steady rhythm while her hand jerked him off in twisting strokes.
“Goddamn,” he breathed.
Sugar knew how to give a blowjob. She had to perfect the art of it to keep her then-husband’s good graces.
She pulled her head back and gazed down at her handiwork. His cock was slick and glistening with her spit and the sight of it that way made her more aroused than ever before. She spat on his tip before she went back to work, taking him deeper into her mouth.
“Sugar.” His voice choked with restraint.
She ignored him and kept going, surrendering herself to a sloppy wild rhythm that only overwhelming lust could provide. She wanted him to cum in her mouth. She wanted to taste him so badly…
“Sugar, stop, honey,” he ordered in a rough raspy tone while his fingers weaved themselves through her long tresses and tugged her head back, so she could look up at him.
She breathed heavily, a string of spit stretching between her wet lips and his cock’s fat mushroom head.
“What’s wrong? Am I doing something wrong,” she panted, a little slither of panic wormed its way into her words.
“I wanna kiss your lips,” he ordered. “Now come put that pretty pussy of yours on my face so I can.”
Sugar blinked up at him in disbelief before a grin eased on her lips.
“Pretty please with Sugar on top,” he stated, a grin of his own forming.
God, she loved it when he said that.
She gave in to his demand by journeying up his body and straddled his head in a reverse position. As she leaned down to take him back into her mouth, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she gasped loudly as his tongue gave her pussy a nice long lap. She nearly lost her balance if not for him gripping her left hip. He used his other hand to palm her right ass cheek, squeezing and kneading it.
Finally, Sugar returned the favor by trailing the tip of her tongue along a thick bulging vein on his cock before she eased him back into her mouth, twirling her tongue around his thickness. Her deep moaning vibrating him as he devoured her cunt.
Sugar tried her hardest to stay on task, but Chef made it difficult for her. His tongue licked her drenched lips and pulsing clit in firm rhythm that made her a quivering mess. His cock plopped out of her wet mouth when she finally released, screaming nice and loud.
As she tried to catch her breath, she heard him ask, “You ready to sink that pussy on my cock, honey? You ready to show me how you like to fuck?”
Sugar eagerly nodded her head.
“Mm hm,” she hummed shakily.
“Turn around so I can see you,” he ordered, warm breath fanning against her cunt.
In a few moments, she straddled his waist and faced him as he wanted. Sugar gazed down at him nervously, her heart practically beating in her throat. She braced one hand on his chest and rose up on her knees, reaching down in between her legs to wrap her fingers around him and position him where he needed to be.
She bit down hard on her bottom lip as she lowered herself down, his meaty tip penetrating her. Invading her. Stretching her. Filling her. The hand planted on his muscular chest dug its fingernails his flesh as she took more and more of him in. She had never been filled so completely before. It was overwhelming and she tried her hardest to adjust to it—to him.
When all of him was inside of her, she hesitantly rocked her hips to get into a slow rhythm. Soon, her hips moved with more skill and certainty until she was riding his cock hard. She planted her hands on both sides of his head and leaned dangerously low until her forehead was pressed against his. Their lustful gazes were unwavering as they stared at each other while she fucked him exactly how she wanted. Her dark tresses curtaining around them as her face hovered over his.
“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, Sugar,” Chef said huskily as his calloused hands slithered down to her waist and held on tight. “So fuckin’ perfect.”
Any woman would’ve been flattered or pleased by his words, but his words reminded her of everything she wasn’t. If she was perfect, she would still be a married woman with children. If she was perfect, she wouldn’t have an entire life revolving around her restaurant. If she was perfect, she would be able to wake up every single morning and accept the woman she saw staring back at her in the bathroom mirror.
She wasn’t perfect.
She was flawed.
She was damaged.
She was utterly fucked up.
And it was her own fault.
This was all her fault.
Sugar stopped fucking him and quickly climbed off him.
“This was a bad idea. A stupid fucking idea,” she told herself in a panic aloud. She rounded the bed, plucking her discarded clothes from the floor and gathering them in her arms.
“Sugar, what in the devil are you talkin’ about,” Chef questioned as he climbed out of bed. “What’s wrong?”
His baritone southern voice was an even mixture between concern and confusion.
“I shouldn’t have come here,” Sugar told him angrily as she marched towards the closed bathroom door, wanting—needing—privacy to change her clothes, so she could get the hell out of dodge. “This shouldn’t have happened at all.”
“Now, wait a goddamn minute, Sugar,” he said with a twinge of anger and irritation, grabbing ahold of her arm. Some of her things fell out of her arms and fluttered to the floor. “I think I deserve the right to know why you’re tryin’ to bust a tail outta here all of a sudden when just five seconds ago, we were makin’ love like two newlyweds.”
Sugar closed her eyes and tried to gain some composure. “I’m not the girl for you, Chef.”
“You’re right. You’re the not the girl for me,” he agreed gruffly, “but you’re sure as hell the woman for me.”
Sugar exhaled in frustration through her nostrils. “You know what I mean, Chef.”
“Actually, I don’t,” he stated. “Enlighten me.”
“I’m not perfect, Chef,” Sugar said. “You keep saying it like it’s true, but it’s not. You want it to be true, but you’re not. I am the farthest thing from perfection.”
She spent eighteen years of her marriage struggling to a slither of a perfect wife, but she couldn’t. Her parents thought her to be the perfect daughter. Her siblings thought her to be the perfect sister. Everyone thought that she was perfect and had her shit together, but she didn’t.
Chef’s eyebrows rose at her speech and he blinked in disbelief. “You’re tryin’ to leave ‘cause I called you perfect?”
The way he delivered the question in genuine confusion made her feel like the dumbest human being on the planet.
“Yes,” she said hesitantly.
He stared at her for a long moment in silence and she shifted under his gaze uncomfortably.
Finally, he spoke. “You’re not goin’ anywhere.”
Sugar blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I said you’re not goin’ anywhere,” Chef replied coolly. “You’re not runnin’ away from me that easily. I ain’t gonna let you.”
Sugar scoffed and looked at him as if he lost his damn mind. “I’m leavin’, Chef. There’s no ifs, ands, or buts about that. This thing between us isn’t going to work. My black behind is walking out the front door whether you like it or not.”
“You will walk out of that front door,” he agreed before adding, “in the mornin’ when it's time for me to take you home.”
Her mouth gaped open in shock at his audacity.
“Drop the clothes, Sugar,” he commanded, expecting her complete submission.
Sugar clenched her jaw stubbornly and remained where she was.
“Drop the clothes and come back to bed with me, Sugar,” he stated.
Sugar huffed and rolled her eyes.
Chef closed in on her, cupping her face before he captured her lips in a kiss. At first, she tried to fight it, but he swallowed her muffled protests until she was moaning and melting. The clothes fell to the ground at their feet, forgotten.
“You gonna come back to bed now?” The whisper fanned against her lips as he drew his head back slightly.
She agreed to go back to his bed. He laid down onto the bed first before he tugged her on top of him, her back colliding with his chest.
“Spread your legs,” he commanded huskily with a smooth delivery of authority. She licked her lips and did as she was told, widening her legs over his. His large hands braced her from underneath her ribcage as he acted as her anchor when he instructed her to plant her feet on the bed and squat on his cock. She felt the strength of him as he helped lift her and steady her, so she didn’t fall, but having never tried this position before, she was afraid she would lose her balance.
“Slide me into your pussy.”
Sugar gulped and reached down to wrap her fingers around his hardened cock, positioning it exactly where it needed to be. She lowered herself a little, his tip slipping into her. Then he forced her down onto him suddenly, making her sink down onto his dick inch by inch. They groaned in unison. As his hands held onto her sides, he controlled her body as he guided her up and down roughly.
She tilted her head back, unable to contain her cries and moans.
“Chef,” she cried out as she bounced on his dick.
He forced her to lean backwards and arch her back, still her anchor, her support, her strength. Never losing their rhythm. Never the flow of their crude fucking. Over the orchestra of wet flesh and her raw screams, she heard his breathless voice.
“Mm, play with your clit for me, Sugar. I wanna you to cream on my cock.”
She shuddered at his words, nodding her head vigorously. She licked her fingertips and reached down, feverishly rubbing at her swollen pink nub. She didn’t take long to cum. She was overcome with a white-hot pleasure that struck her like lightning. Her mouth shaped like a big O and she screamed for him until her throat was sore while her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
His own release was hot on her heels. He grunted as he spilled his seed inside of her.
She collapsed backwards on his chest with him still inside of her. Both panting wildly in unison. Their sweaty skin glistened and glowed in the lamp’s amber light. Chef moved his palms to cup her breasts, his fingertips toying with her nipples as if they were his possession.
As their breath began to even out, a comfortable silence fell between them as they relaxed in the aftermath.
“I don’t know what that motherfucker did to you, Sugar,” Chef finally spoke, his rumbly voice sending tingly vibrations into her back, “but I’m gonna do everything in my power to prove to prove him and you wrong.”
Sugar asked tiredly, “What are you talking about, Chef?”
Her overloaded brain had began to shut down for the night.
“You’ll see, sweetheart. You’ll see.”
I am sorry for this late update. The first few months of school take a hit to the muse and this school year has been very rough, but I got my muse back thanks to two wonderful ladies. SHOUT OUT TO MS. JOSIE AND MS. JOY! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you times five billion-zillion from the bottom of my heart. Without these two ladies whipping my muse into shape, I wouldn't have been able to churn out this update. I truly appreciate both of you for all your time!
Now, Chef and Sugar have officially done the deed. Sugar tried to run away and said, "My black ass is leaving out that front door." To which, Chef replied, "It will leave in the mornin'. We ain't done yet." Sugar has got some real self-esteem issues, but I truly enjoy writing her character. She's got a lot of deep flaws, but I feel a lot of people can relate to them. I know I can. Also, Chef and Sugar didn't use a glove. ;D You know Sugar gonna freak when she realizes.
I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. Sex scenes aren't my strong suit, so I hope it wasn't too bad, LOL.
Have a wonderful Saturday!
Feedback is greatly appreciated.
**Update: There were some typos. I corrected as many as I could find. So sorry.
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