Dessert is Served

Xavi

Following chapter 33

There’s no pretending I’m not excited as I stare at the table. We’re not really going to do that, right? Was he serious?

My cock sure hopes so. Even as my pulse thrums loudly in my ears. My god, we can’t do that! What if Sparrow comes over again and we eat dinner, or he brings more pastries?

Speaking of pastries. I reach for the box and close the lid as I cross the room and set it on the counter. No need to ruin those. I have no idea how long Enfield will be gone. He knows where all the stuff is now.

In the last week, we’ve had plenty of sex. It gets better and better as Enfield becomes more comfortable with me. Maybe that’s not the right word. I think what makes him so careful is that he’s afraid of hurting me. I’m too nervous to tell him how excited I am for him to just let go and fuck me.

Maybe this’ll be the day. He’s excited about our contracts being finalized—one canceled and one legal. I’m surprised at how excited I am about the canceled one. To get rid of all the crap in it that I didn’t want. It’s a weight off my shoulders that I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying around.

I wonder if my brothers feel that weight. Are there things in their contracts that they didn’t want and didn’t have a choice in?

Enfield walks back into the kitchen with a tube of lube and a condom in hand as I’m tossing the washcloth in the sink that I’d used to wipe the crumbs Sparrow and I made earlier. While I try to focus on his grin, it’s his straining dick in his pants that I can’t stop looking at.

I know I keep thinking about it, but I can’t believe where we are now. Just a month ago, I was pretty sure he hated me. Now he’s marrying me because he wants to. I turn him on.

Enfield closes the space between us. I’m not sure if it’s the thought I’d just marveled at for maybe the hundredth time this past week, or knowing that we’re about to have sex on the table.

“If you feel strongly about not doing this here, I won’t be upset,” Enfield says, his arms around my waist and holding me close. His dick is pressed firmly against my groin.

I chew my lip for a minute and shake my head. “Let’s do it.”

He grins, mouth closing over mine. I hear the thunk of the lube hitting the table, and then he’s pushing my pants down. “How thoroughly did you clean yourself this morning?” he asks against my lips as his fingers move between my cheeks.

I shiver, cheeks heating. It’s been incredible going to sleep on the tail end of an orgasm and waking up to one before we begin our day. Which means it’s been only a few hours since he was last inside me.

“Pretty good,” I admit. “Walking around feeling wet and drippy all day is kind of gross.”

“Mm,” he hums. Enfield bites my lower lip gently before turning me around and urging me to lean over the table. “Let’s see if I can do this on my own.”

I grin. He spent three days for a total of seven fucks just watching me lube and stretch. For the past four days, he’s helped me prep. I haven’t let him watch me douche, because ew.

I close my eyes because looking anywhere feels awkward. My family has sat around this table and eaten. My nieces and nephews have. My cat. Sparrow and his siblings. Everyone has been he—

My thoughts feel like a skipping rock across the surface of a lake. Rapid but lengthening out until the rock sinks and disappears under the surface, lost to the rest of the world. Enfield’s fingers immediately curl and make my entire body jerk as he brushes my prostate.

I’m on my toes now, stretching for lord knows why. I’m not trying to get away. No, thank you. I want to be right here. His fingers slide in deeper, and my legs shake. God, it’s only his fingers! I’m being so dramatic.

“That feel right?” Enfield asks.

I grin and stretch my arm up to hide my smile. “Yeah,” I say, voice muffled against my arm. He’s so damn cute when he’s trying to do what I’ve shown him.

“Are you sure?”

“More lube,” I tell him, “but yes.”

“Sorry.” His fingers retreat immediately.

I shake my head. “You’re not doing anything wrong. I’m just saying that I’m going to need more before you put your big dick in.”

He snorts. “Big dick, huh? Sounds like wishful thinking to me.”

I twist to look at him over my shoulder as he sinks his fingers back inside me. “You don’t think you’re big?”

“It’s not a matter of thinking it. I know what I have. I’m not saying I’m small or anything. There’s a whole world between big and small, but it seems, in dick size, people only focus on big or small.”

“As the one taking your dick, I think I have the authority to decide if it’s big or small.”

“Or average,” he says and pulls his fingers from me.

I get up as he pulls his shirt over his head. Together, we strip. Once naked, I pull him to me and press my lips to his. “I love your cock. It’s perfect.”

Enfield grins. “Good, because it’s what I have. It’s not like boobs and I can just go get some implants to make it bigger.”

I scrunch my face, making him grin wider.

“Get your sexy ass on the table,” he murmurs.

I yelp as his hands curl under my thighs, and he lifts me. I’d have tried to avoid getting lube on the table, but it seems Enfield has no reservations as he sets my bare ass on the tabletop. I cringe. I’m never eating here again.

Releasing my mouth, he urges me to lie back, and I shiver at the cold top. With his grip around my thighs, Enfield slides me down, causing a scrrrr sound on the table. I laugh and then grip the sides tightly since my ass is hanging off the end.

“Time for dessert,” Enfield says as he lines his cock up with my hole.

“Wrong meal,” I say. “Brunch at best.”

“Nah. You’re always dessert, angel.” His cockhead presses against me, and I’m holding my breath. I think we both exhale sharply as he breaches the ring.

Enfield groans, letting his head hang, maybe watching as he slowly slides his way inside me. Maybe his eyes are closed. I can’t tell from here. “You always feel so good. Like the first time, every time,” he says, breathless.

I smile, but my smile turns into a low groan as he slides deeper and deeper. I’d really like to point out that the fact that he somehow grows more inches than he thinks he has as soon as he’s inside me proves he has a big dick. But those words and any others are lost between my groans.

We’re not necessarily vanilla. We’ve been playing with different positions and whatever. But we haven’t had this position yet. Hell, we haven’t had sex outside of one of our beds—mostly mine because I have lube.

Maybe it’s the angle or the way Enfield leans forward, forcing me to fold in half a little more with each minute. It drives the air from my lungs. With less oxygen, my moans are at a higher pitch. They’re punched out of me quickly as he begins fucking me.

He doesn’t exactly let go. Maybe that’s just not who he is; there’s more force in his thrusts this time, but he’s alternating with quick thrusts. Never both together.

I grip him tightly, my hands digging into his biceps. Our eyes are locked as he takes me right here in the kitchen. Just as he wanted, my sounds echo off the walls and stone surfaces. I feel like they’re coming back to me, especially as they get higher and higher.

“See?” he pants. “Dessert. You’re exquisite.”

I moan in response.

“Now come on my dick. I’m still figuring out how to make this last longer when you feel so fucking good, and I’m at my limit.”

I want to grin. That’s a compliment if I’ve ever heard one, but the most I can do is comply. Reaching between us, I grip my dick and jerk in time with his thrusts. That does it. It’s not long before I do exactly as he wants and come.

My ass clenches around his cock, making him moan deeply. His hips jerk harder in response, and the hard jabs elevate the end of my orgasm in time for him to begin his.

Maybe I’m just telling myself this because I know we’re spending our lives together, but I’ve never felt the kind of pleasure that I do with Enfield with anyone else before. It fills every little hole and crevice. It makes me shake and sweat and lose the ability to speak.

But perhaps better than the sex is the way he curls around me after. Being here on the kitchen table is no different. He pulls his cock out slowly, discards the condom, and then crawls on top of me to hold me in his arms.

“Best dessert ever,” he murmurs and kisses the hollow just below my ear.

He’s not wrong, anyway.

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