Page 83 of Holly Jolly Cake Fight
“Yes, absolute filth. I especially liked when you passed out in my lap and snored so loudly you scared Minoue away from the fire.”
“I’m not defending myself.” Candace turned up her nose as she collected the flour sprinkled across the counter into a tidy pile.
Laurin sidled up to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her behind her ear. “And you shouldn’t. You deserved that sleep. We were both exhausted. But this is all the private time we’ll have today. Vivvy’s probably already awake and terrorizing her presents. I thankfully talkedmamandown to mimosas and smoked salmon blinis for breakfast. You like smoked salmon, right? But then I gotta get the turkey going, and then we all have to come back here so we can take Vivvy ice skating while Manon finishes the bake—”
“I still can’t believe there’s an ice skating rink,” Candace mused as she leaned across the table to get the flour that was farthest away. “It’s sixty deg—oof!” she squealed as Laurin took advantage of her position to sneak his hand between her folds and dip a finger into her. She reared back, startled, but his other hand went to her spine, resting on it just heavily enough to hold her in place. “Laurin, stop,” she moaned, but he was already flexing his finger, rubbing the sensitive spot within her.
“Are you serious?” His voice was soft and warm, his words not a sincere question but a tease. “Two hours I’ve let you torture me. And then the moment we’re finished, you bend over for me and show me your pussy, all puffy and begging to be pet, youtell me to stop?” He pulled his finger out to add another one, bringing his thumb in to slide over her clit gingerly, the three digits working in tandem to make Candace slick and breathless. “Are you sure you want me to stop?”
Not at all, and wasn’t that another problem? He was extremely persuasive, and he somehow knew exactly how to touch her every time. It was a combination for disaster.
Or something incredible. Something she’d be a fool to let go of. Something that would be insane for her to give up on before the week was even over.
But she needed to be at least the bare minimum of responsible. “Wait, I need to clean the counter! And —mmnff, give me a second to—”
He didn’t, of course. She had to bring her elbows down in front of her to keep herself from faceplanting in the flour as her body moved along with his tormenting strokes. He moved his hand from her back to lay it over her arm as he said, “You’re always so wet for me. I love that.”
“Oh, God. Oh, Laurin.” Candace closed her eyes and held on for a moment, unable to do anything else but squeeze Laurin’s hand in her own and keep her head up as Laurin whispered dark praises in her ear.
“I want you to come for me,” he crooned, his voice as smoky and raw as hers would have been if she could manage anything but the tight, sporadic, high-pitched whimpers in the back of her throat. “I want you to be all warmed up and wet for me, and I want that tight cunt of yours pulsing so when I fuck you, I can fuck you hard, okay?”
She canted her head to the side, pushing into his shoulder and the firm muscles as she moaned his name and then scrunched up her face, teetering on the edge.
Fast, wet sounds surrounded them as he worked her aggressively, all finesse vanishing in his quest to make her come. When she did, it was with an explosion of white light, a shake in her knees, and a weak moan that was cut off almost immediately by a gasp as she was suddenly filled by Laurin’s thick, hard length.
He was true to his word, pounding into her so roughly the best she could do was accept that her apron was going to be coated in flour and she’d have to sweep all over again when they were done.
But there was a desperate sort of neediness to the Laurin’s frantic thrusts, the praises and apologies he gave her, the grip of his hands on her breasts, and the way he bent over her, locking her in place, that filled her with a different sort of warmth.
This felt different from yesterday. Both were desperate and frantic, but yesterday seemed to be proving a point, Laurin staking a claim on her. There’d been a tinge of spite to it, which Laurin was entitled to.
Today was rough because he needed her like he needed air, and she’d suffocated him this past month.
She’d suffocated herself, but unlike Laurin, she’d lived without air for so long that the oxygen he gave her now was intoxicating. Overwhelming.
She made fists of her hands to rest her forehead on as she fought off the tears pricking the corners of her eyes.
She managed a soft, moaning, “Laurin?” but didn’t expect him to understand it as a cry for help.
And she knew better than to underestimate him, knew better than to think he’d keep going when she needed more than what he was giving her. Laurin, perfect as ever, slowed to long, deep thrusts, moved his hands to hers, and laid lazy kisses between her shoulders. “You promised me you’ll stay through New Year, bonbon.” He ended the sentence with a low, gravelly grunt. “And I’m gonna be right here for you the whole time. Sometimes here,” he punctuated with one hard thrust before reading back to the slow, shallow nudges. “And sometimes here.”
He stretched to get his lips all the way up to the corner of her eye as though he knew why she was clenching them shut now.
The stretch, the new angle, the shallow thrust had him hitting her just right that she cried out on a startled muscle spasm.
“Fuck, I love you,” Laurin grunted. “And you’re gonna love me if you don’t already.” He straightened up to take hold of her thighs to resume a more productive rhythm. “I think you do, though, and I think that’s why you ran.” His fingers dug into her. “And goddamn, you did put on weight already, didn’t you?”
“Laurin,” she whined, his last comment shaking her out of those rough waters. “That’s not sexy.”
“Hell yeah, it is!” he laughed, unfazed by her glare. He tried to prove it by digging in more aggressively and, when that didn’t work, spun her around to face him.
She was so startled she didn’t notice until her butt was two inches from the flour that he was about to sit her down in it. She caught herself in time, holding herself up by her palms. “Don’t you dare!”
He attempted to kiss her scowl away. “But I want to feel these thighs around me.”
“I will absolutely not be cleaning flour out of my butt crack — and if you offer to help, I will smack you!” she added when his eyes lit up in excitement.
He was not to be outdone, and he would not be accused of being a spoilsport. So he wrapped her legs around him and spun around once more.
