Page 176 of With a Cherry On Top

She bursts into wild laughter. “Is someone feeling a little jealous?”

“Me? Never,” I mock before walking to her. “Just worried about your career and all.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Lucky for me, I’ve got no shows coming up.”

“Yeah?” she muses, fingers pulling my hair back.

“Yes. I can eat whatever I want, all night long.” I tap the island next to her. “Hop up.”

She bites her lip, but does as I ask, hopping onto the cool marble counter. I grab the siphon filled with fresh whipped cream and reach for the zipper of her dress. “May I?”

She nods.

I ease the fabric off her shoulders, letting it glide down her body in slow motion, revealing inch after inch of flawless skin. The dress pools around her hips for a moment before slipping away entirely, leaving her sitting there in nothing but a lacy black thong that makes my head spin.

“You’re worthy of worship, Charlotte,” I say, my voice thick. “You’re art.” I give the siphon a shake, the sound of it rattling in the silence. “And tonight, you’re dinner.”

I press the nozzle and release a perfect spiral of whipped cream over one nipple, then the other. The cold cream hits her skin, making her gasp, her nipples hardening into tight little peaks, begging for my mouth.

My lips are on her in an instant, sucking one peak clean, then moving to the other. She moans, her fingers tangling in my hair.

I trail a line of cream down her stomach, following the curve of her waist, the dip of her navel. She shivers beneath me, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as I pop a cherry into my mouth, bite gently, and then press the sweet half between her lips.

She takes it, her tongue brushing against mine in a kiss that’s so fucking hot it could set the room on fire. The taste of her, cherries, cream...it’s the most decadent dessert.

I slide her further back on the island, lying her down gently on the cool marble. Her back arches as I lean over her, drizzling cream along her thigh, her hip, the sensitive skin near the crease where her thigh meets her pelvis, licking it all clean within seconds.

“Relax,” I whisper when she squirms in my hands. “Let me enjoy my meal.”

I sink lower, my lips trailing kisses along the path of cream, my tongue lapping at her skin. My hands grip her thighs, spreading them wider as I move even lower.

Her thong is soaked already, and I can smell her arousal, sweet and heady. I hook my fingers into the lace and pull it aside, exposing her to me completely. She’s glistening, pink and swollen, and I can’t fucking wait to taste her—but I want to take my time. Make her writhe. Make herbeg.

“Fuck, Charlotte,” I breathe, brushing my lips along the inside of her thigh. “You’re dripping for me.”

“Please, Chef...” She shivers, her hips lifting just slightly off the counter.

I reach over, pluck a cherry by the stem from the bowl, and hold it between my teeth. Her eyes go wide, her lips parting as she watches me lower my mouth to her heat, the cherry dangling between my lips.

Then it touches her.

She gasps as the cool, sticky fruit grazes her clit, the smooth surface sliding over her. I move slow, rolling the cherry over her in small circles, letting it bump and drag against the bundle of nerves until her thighs are trembling and her moans are coming fast and shaky.

“Fuck, Aaron—” she whimpers, her hands clutching the edge of the counter, white-knuckled. “I need you...”

I flick the cherry faster, watching her grind against that tiny fruit pressed between my teeth, teasing her until her hips start jerking beneath me.

Then I pull back, pluck the cherry into my mouth, and bite down—her slickness mixing with the juice as it explodes across my tongue.

She stares down at me, flushed and panting, and I chew slowly, swallowing with a low groan. “Fucking delicious. But I know a Cherry that tastes better.”

Before she can catch her breath, I press my mouth to her pussy, licking her clit with a long, hot stroke of my tongue. She cries out, her whole body jolting.

I don’t let up, my tongue working her clit in tight circles while my fingers slide inside her, fucking her steadily. She’s so tight, so fucking wet, and I can feel her walls clenching around my fingers as she gets closer and closer to the edge.

“I want you inside me,” she says, reaching for my hair and looking down at me with a crazed expression. “Now.”

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