Being a Chef, you learned a thing or two.
1. You work well with your hands.
2. You're not afraid to get down & dirty.
3. You're all about pleasing.
4. You can satisfy every taste bud.
5. You can go on for hours without breaks.
6. You know how to han...
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"What do you want? Tell me, what is it that you want?" He nips my neck yet again. I couldn't think straight with this man doing this to me. Hell, I don't think anyone could think straight with him doing this to them. "Speak up chef."
"Tristan, I'm at work," I whisper.
"So work." He lets go of my neck, taking a hold of my hand and guiding it to the front of his slacks. Oh, fucking hell. His dick is hard, and wants to be set free. "On your knees." He demands, and like the little traitor my body is, I sink to my knees. Well, maybe I shouldn't say traitor because I'm naturally submissive, and Tristan is giving very much dominant vibes right now. His tone left no room for argument.
I look up at him, and he sucks in a sharp breath. "Fuck, you look amazing." He licks his lips slowly. "Take him out." He demands, and a part of me is getting excited. The last time I felt like a good girl was years ago with Henry, but even then, he didn't do a very good job at it.
I work at undoing his belt, then unbuttoning and unzipping his slacks. Slowly sliding his slacks and boxers down—his dick hard, looking me straight in the eyes. I dare not touch him, waiting for my next command. I look up at Tristan, and he smirks; he catches on quickly. Could it be the look in my eyes, or could he just tell I'm a natural-born submissive?
"Put him in your mouth." He says. Tristan steps closer to me, and I playfully stroke and lick the precum from the tip of his dick before gently working it deeper into my mouth. He doesn't grunt or groan; he just casually begins shoving himself a little further into my mouth. I relax my jaws and change the angle of my mouth, and he slides a bit more comfortably into my throat. I gag, but he holds me there. I could barely breathe. Finally, he releases my head, and my mouth slides off it. His dick is dripping with my saliva. "Again."
I open my mouth, getting ready to take him once more and a knock at the door catches our attention.
"Chef, you're needed in the kitchen," Janet says, a bit nervous.
I stand to my feet, quickly using Tristan's thighs for help. He looks at me with a glint in his eyes but doesn't say anything.
"Chef?"
"I heard you, Janet. I will be there shortly." I walk to my desk, grabbing a tissue to wipe my mouth. I hear the sound of Tristan fixing himself, counting down from ten. I turn around, and he looks put together. "I have to get going."
"I heard." He walks to me. "You start tomorrow morning." He pulls a key out of his pocket. It has a diamond chef hat charm attached to it. "Take it."
I reach for it placing it on my desk. "I'll see you tomorrow." I give us some distance because if I don't. I know I will be either two things, bend over my desk or on my knees again. The thing is, I want to keep our newfound arrangement strictly business as possible. I'm failing miserably at it. Tristan isn't a man you can simply be just friends or business partners with once you cross that line. Everything about him makes me want to throw caution to the wind.
