27

Vincent

Jennifer had slept through most of the afternoon, and I let her. After all, she deserved the rest. I hadn’t exactly been gentle with her earlier, but it had been worth it—her responses were etched into my mind.

Even now, I could still feel the lingering essence of her on my lips, the memory of her overwhelming desire vivid in my thoughts. She was intoxicating, and the thought of experiencing her that way again sent a thrill through me. But for now, I let her rest. She needed it.

I was in the kitchen when the soft patter of her bare feet reached my ears. Turning toward the sound, I saw her walk in, wearing that light blue sundress again.

She was breathtaking. The dress suited her perfectly, and there was a brightness in her eyes, a sense of calm that made it seem as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Her hair was smooth, not a strand out of place, and she looked composed, collected—like she hadn’t been completely vulnerable just hours before.

But I knew better. The memory of her surrender, the way she’d let go completely under my touch, flickered in my mind, and a small smile crept onto my lips. The contrast between how she looked now and how she’d been earlier only made her more irresistible.

Jennifer ’s cheeks were slightly flushed, the only giveaway that hinted at the passion we had shared earlier.

“Jennifer ,” I said softly, though my tone carried its usual authority. “Are you ready to make some gnocchi?”

Dinner time was approaching, and I had no doubt she’d worked up quite the appetite. I prided myself on being the kind of man who took care of his woman in every way possible.

She nodded, her gaze fixed on me, her eyes betraying just how much my presence affected her. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

I pushed away from the counter, moving toward her with deliberate steps. Each one seemed to heighten the tension in the room, and as I stopped inches away from her, I could feel the warmth radiating from her. Her breath hitched, the moment thick with unspoken desire.

I loved the effect I had on her. It was addictive.

“Good,” I murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

A shiver coursed through her, and she bit her lip, as if trying to steady herself. “Me too,” she replied, her voice low and tinged with a husky edge that gave her away.

I smirked, a slow, deliberate smile that deepened the blush on her cheeks. “Let’s get started.”

Taking her hand, I led her into the kitchen. As she drew in a shaky breath, I turned and pulled her close, claiming her lips in a deep, consuming kiss that left both of us breathless. I broke the kiss with a playful smack to her ass, grinning as I disappeared into the pantry to grab what we needed. Her ragged breathing followed me, and I chuckled to myself.

After gathering the ingredients, I set up our workspace on the kitchen island. I couldn’t resist sneaking glances at her, each one stoking the fire I was trying so hard to keep at bay.

“Let’s start with the dough,” I said, my voice lower than I intended, betraying my own growing hunger—not just for the meal.

We worked side by side, our hands occasionally brushing as we kneaded the dough. Every touch sent a current racing through me, making it harder to focus. Each glance, each shared moment, made me want to push everything off the counter and claim her again, but I held back.

Right now, she needed care, not unbridled passion.

“Like this,” I demonstrated, rolling the dough into a long, smooth rope. My hands moved with practiced ease, and I noticed how intently she watched me.

Jennifer mimicked my actions, but her dough turned out uneven and lumpy. Frustration flashed across her face, but I couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped me. She was too damn adorable.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it,” I reassured her. “Here, let me show you.”

I moved behind her, positioning my hands over hers as I guided her movements. My chest pressed lightly against her back, and I leaned closer, my breath brushing the sensitive skin of her neck. I felt her heart race, matching the rhythm of mine. Together, we rolled the dough until it was as smooth and even as mine.

As my body pressed against hers, my cock brushed against her ass, and she froze for a moment before arching her back, pressing herself even closer to me.

“See? You’re a natural,” I murmured near her ear, my voice thick with restrained desire.

She turned her head slightly, her gaze meeting mine. “Only because I have the best teacher,” she teased, her tone light but laced with mischief. Then the little minx wiggled her ass against me, testing my resolve.

I grinned, my eyes darkening with heat as I pressed myself more firmly against her, letting her feel exactly what she was doing to me. “Careful,” I warned, my voice low and full of promise. “You’re tempting me.”

She gave me a playful look, and I leaned closer, my lips brushing her ear. “Maybe after dinner, we can make dessert,” I said, the double meaning clear as my hips shifted just enough to let her know how much I wanted her.

But for now, I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. Dinner came first. Dessert could wait—for now.

The thought of claiming every inch of her body had my cock throbbing. I’d bet good money that one particular place was still untouched—a tempting mystery I was eager to unravel.

Her sass broke my train of thought. “You already had dessert,” she teased, her tone playful and daring.

I leaned back just enough to deliver a sharp, stinging smack to her bottom. She squealed, darting out of my reach with a mischievous grin.

“Sassy girl,” I said, my voice dripping with amusement. “Now let’s finish these gnocchi before I decide to take you over my knee again.”

“Promises, promises,” she shot back, her tone as light as ever.

I smirked, leaning in close. “Keep it up, baby girl, and I’ll spend all night torturing that sweet little clit with my tongue.”

Her pout was instant and utterly adorable. “But I’m so sensitive!”

I chuckled darkly. “Then you’d better behave, shouldn’t you?”

The thought of making good on my threat was tempting, but I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. Jennifer ’s exaggerated pout made me laugh harder, easing the charged moment as I turned back to the dough.

Somehow, we managed to concentrate enough to finish preparing the gnocchi. Once they were cut and ready, it was time to move on to the sauce. I guided her through each step, enjoying the way she hung on every word.

“First, we start with the tomatoes,” I explained, handing her a ripe one. “We’ll blanch them to remove the skins.”

I showed her how to do it, her eyes tracking my movements. When it was her turn, she took over with growing confidence, her actions becoming more fluid with every task.

The kitchen soon filled with the rich aroma of garlic sizzling in olive oil, mingling with fresh basil. Jennifer stood by the stove, stirring the sauce with a look of intense focus that was far too cute for her own good.

“You’re doing great,” I praised, standing close enough to feel the warmth of her body. “Just keep stirring. We’ll add the gnocchi soon.”

As the sauce simmered, I set a pot of water to boil. “Okay, it’s ready. Time to cook these little pillows of heaven.”

We gently dropped the gnocchi into the boiling water, watching them float to the surface one by one.

“That’s how you know they’re done,” I explained. “Light, fluffy, and ready to eat.”

Her stomach growled audibly, making her laugh. “I can’t wait to eat these. I’m starving.”

I slid my hand down her spine, pulling her in for a quick kiss before returning to the food.

Once the gnocchi were ready, we transferred them to the sauce, tossing them carefully to coat each piece. I scooped up a spoonful and held it to her lips.

Her eyes locked on mine, dark and full of heat as she parted her lips. The way she tasted the gnocchi, her tongue brushing against the spoon, had me groaning internally.

“Oh my god, Vincent ,” she said, her voice filled with delight. “This is incredible.”

“I’m glad you like it,” I replied, my smile genuine. “Let’s plate this up and enjoy.”

I served us both generous portions, setting a plate in front of her before taking the seat beside her. Watching her take the first bite was its own kind of pleasure—her face lighting up with pure bliss.

“This is even better than I remembered,” she said, her tone full of appreciation.

I took a bite as well, savoring the familiar flavors. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

As Jennifer finished her last bite, a satisfied smile spread across her face. Her hazel eyes met mine, her cheeks tinged pink. She was a vision, her beauty unmatched, and I couldn’t look away.

She was everything I never knew I needed.