And then he starts to move, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, and I learn exactly what it means to be thoroughly, completely claimed.
Chapter 7 - Levi
I'm inside her. Inside Maya Sutton, in my kitchen, on the stainless steel prep counter where we've been making food for two weeks.
This is so irresponsible. If people knew about this, if the health inspector walked in right now, if Jenny forgot something and came back, if anyone found out I fucked my employee in the restaurant kitchen, we'd be ruined. The business would tank. People would never come back. Everything I've worked for would be destroyed.
And yet, looking down at Maya's face as I thrust into her pussy, I know with absolute certainty that I'd trade it all for a future with her. Every reservation. Every positive review. Every dollar in the bank.
The realization should terrify me. Instead, it fuels me, drives me to move faster, harder, to claim her so thoroughly she'll never forget this moment.
I grip her hips and pick up my pace, fucking her ruthlessly now, chasing something I can't quite name. The counter trembles beneath us with each thrust, metal rattling slightly, but neither of us cares. We're both too far gone, too lost in the sensation of skin on skin, of her body taking mine so perfectly.
Sweat runs down the curve of her breasts, pooling in the valley between them, and I want to lick it off. Want to taste the salt of her skin, want to mark every inch of her as mine.
My own chest is slick with sweat, muscles straining as I drive into her again and again. This isn't gentle or romantic. This is primal, desperate, two people who've been denying themselves for too long finally letting go.
"Look at me," I command, my voice rough.
Her eyes flutter open, half-lidded and unfocused, her lips parted and glistening. She looks absolutely wrecked, thoroughly fucked, and it's the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen.
"Levi," she gasps, her hands scrabbling for purchase on my shoulders. "Don't stop, please don't stop—"
"Never," I growl, angling my hips to hit deeper. "Could never stop. You feel too fucking good."
The scents from dinner service still linger in the air: roasted garlic and thyme, caramelized onions, the rich smell of reduced wine. It mixes with the musk of sex, creating something surreal and perfect and utterly unforgettable.
This moment… Maya spread out on my prep counter, her body taking mine, the kitchen we've worked in together bearing witness, I know I'll remember it for the rest of my life.
But I want more. Need more. I slow my thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in at a slower pace.
"Why—" Maya's eyes snap fully open, confused and frustrated. "Why are you stopping?"
Instead of answering, I pull out completely and grab her hand, helping her down from the counter. Her legs are shaky, but she steadies herself against me.
I turn her around so she's facing away from me, her palms flat on the cold steel surface.
"Levi?" Her voice is breathless, uncertain.
I gather her long hair in one hand, moving it over her shoulder so her neck and back are exposed. Then I lean down and press my lips to the curve where her neck meets her shoulder, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin there.
She moans, and I feel her warm breath brush against my face as she turns her head slightly toward me.
"I want to take you like this," I murmur against her skin, my free hand sliding down her spine. "Want to watch your beautiful ass while I fuck you. That okay?"
"Yes," she breathes. "God, yes."
I use my free hand to guide my cock back to her entrance, and when I push inside this time, the angle is completely different. Deeper. Tighter. So fucking perfect I have to pause for a second or risk coming immediately.
"Fuck, Maya," I groan, picking up my pace again. "You're so perfect. Do you have any idea how perfect you are?"
She can't seem to form words anymore, just makes these gorgeous little sounds with each thrust—half gasps, half moans, completely unfiltered.
I release her hair and grip her hips with both hands, using the leverage to pull her back onto my cock as I drive forward. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the kitchen, and I never want it to stop.
She's so wet I can feel it coating my cock, can feel her arousal dripping down her thighs. The knowledge that I did this to her, that I made her this desperate and needy, sends a surge of possessive pride through me.
"Touch yourself," I tell her, one hand sliding around to her stomach. "I want to feel you come on my cock."