Page 73 of A Very Merry Mistake

I shake my head, smirking. “Not unless you let me put a ring on that finger. Only family knows.”

“Tempting,” she purrs. “But I totally understand. Wouldn’t want me stealing the recipe, then distributing it across the country.”

“Pfft. Not worried about that. However, you can probably search some recipes online and find something comparable.”

“As long as it has butter, right?”

I nod. “You’ve got it.”

Once the dough is the correct thickness, I move closer to her, sliding the robe up her body and palming her bare ass. “I think this is the most fun I’ve ever had making one of these.”

“Same,” she quips.

I look over her work. “Great job.”

She pouts.

“I mean…” I turn her around and lean in, nudging my knee between her thighs. She sighs, and I give her the words she fucking craves. “That’s my very good girl.”

She shudders. “Stop distracting me.”

“Me, distracting you? You’re the queen of it.”

The oven beeps, and Claire nearly jumps out of her skin. “Scared the shit out of me.”

I open the drawer where I keep the patterns for the shapes of my walls and roof, then lay them on top of the dough. “Do the honor.”

“Really?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I hand her a baking knife, and she carefully cuts the squares and then freehands a window.

When she realizes it’s crooked, she frowns. “Ugh. I messed it up.”

I grab her chin and shake my head. “It’s not a mistake. It just adds character. May I?”

She hands me the utensil, and I cut an oddly misshapen window on the other wall. Her smile returns. “I like that.”

I don’t like how she’s so hard on herself. When she has the slightest mishap, she becomes her own worst enemy. If she learns anything while she’s here, I want her to know it’s okay to be human, to fuck up every once in a while. I think her and her happy mistakes are perfect. They prove she’s not an emotionless robot who does everything as it should be.

Once our shapes are cut, we place them on a cookie sheet, then put them in the oven. I set a timer, then we go back to the icing.

“What’s next?” The excitement returns to her tone.

“Royal icing, for my queen.” I shoot her a wink. “What did I tell you to remember earlier?”

“Eggs at room temperature.”

“Exactly.” I pick one up, feel it, and hand it to her. “As if it came out of a chicken’s butt.”

She snorts, unable to hold back her laughter. “Didn’t expect that to come out of your mouth.”

“I got all sorts of Southern shit like that to share at the most random times.” I show her how to quickly get rid of the yolks since we’re only using the whites, then we turn on the mixer.

Claire watches it carefully, making sure it doesn’t over-mix, and when there are peaks, she turns it off. “I think it’s ready.”

I glance into the bowl, dipping my finger inside, then placing it in her mouth. She sucks and moans, devouring all the sugar. My cock instantly hardens.

Claire turns around, scooping some up with her finger. I expect her to put it in my mouth, but she opens the robe and places it on one of her hard nipples. I don’t wait before I suck and lick up every bit of it. She braces herself against the counter when my hand slides down to her clit, then inside of her. Her eyes roll into the back of her head as I slide another finger into her dripping wet pussy. She holds onto me for dear life, and when I think she’s close, I pull away, putting my two fingers in my mouth and tasting her.

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