Nature Of The Business

Yes, Chef

DISCLAIMER:
To my readers, my apologies for the long wait. I recently lost my father and have been dealing with a number of things and life's little curveball. I appreciate all the votes and comments on Nature Of The Business. I hope this chapter can sustain you until I return(I will be returning), it is incomplete but I didn't want to leave you hanging for too long. Thank you again for your appreciation and your patience.

"Can I....can I touch you?" Your voice trembled as you looked into Carmen's eyes.

"Please." He sighed deeply.

His expression pained and longing to feel your fingers explore him tenderly. His head leaning aganist your forehead for support, his breaths shallow and controlled, fighting the urge to pounce on you.

Reaching your hands towards his jaw, your fingertips curled under the sensation of his stuble, thumbs tapping lightly at his skin. As gruff as he looked, his skin felt smooth. Your hands, open palmed took hold of his face. Eyes still fixated on the intricacies of his canvas, he startled you, with a tender kiss on your wounded hand.

"Does it still hurt?" He whispered against your skin.

"No...not as much," you whispered back.

He looked at you between his brows and smiled a sinister grin.

"Ambidextrous my ass," he chuckled, as he kissed your wound gently. And with that sly remark you felt your guard drop in your shoulders, your mind raced as you looked at his lips, the anticipation of feeling his mouth collapsing into your was unbearable. He glanced once more between his brows, noticing the change in your breathing pattern, your expression giving him the green light.

"Fuck you, Carmen..." you muttered, and without warning those words ignited his actions. His lips pressed hard against yours, your hands gliding up his scalp, feeling his tresses between your fingers, receiving his kisses passionately.

This is really happening?? He feels so good, he tastes so good! Fuck. This is really happening! Your thoughts raced as the two of you explored each other. Carmen pulled your body close to his, hands on your waist as he walked you both towards his cluttered desk, his steps careful; while his kisses strategically switched between your jugular and lips; he wanted this to last.

Reaching the desk, you pulled away and smiled at him, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "You-Uh, sure know how to work your tongue."

He laughed openly, and placed his hand on your cheek, lifting your jaw upwards, "yeah? I can't wait to show what else it can do." He quickly switched positions with you, your ass now presses against the desk, his kisses grew forceful, his hands supporting your back as he tasted you.

Carmen took a step back to admire the sight before him, even with your messy bun and chef whites; you were a sight to see. He scanned your frame, hungrily feeling his desire swell within him. Your doe eyes turned hazy, intrigue plastered his expression. There was no way all this tension, all of this build up, didn't make your panties soak at the idea of feeling him. He smirked as he watched your eyes traveled from his fitted white shirt down towards his girth. Looking down at himself, he gripped his length firmly, peeking at you between his brows.

"Come here," you cooed between your lashes.

Carmen's stride full of confidence, almost cocky as he approached you. His frame towered over you, eyes penetrating before his member could.

"You hungry?" You smirked

"Baby, I'm starving." His lips curled into a seductive grin, his hand gripping the back of your neck, your head fell heavy to the weight of his tender kisses along your jugular.

"Don't be so gentle with me, Chef. Break me," you moaned into the air.

"FUCK, baby." You really knew how to get under his skin, Carmen's hands feverishly began to remove your chef coat, your hands grabbing at his jeans; ready to see if his stamina in the kitchen was aided by his chef's knife lodged in his boxers.

You could hardly wait to see him in his glory, but once he removed your pants and saw your soaked lace panties leaving a wet spot on his desk, his mouth began to salivate.

"Mmm...I knew you'd be wet but fuck Y/N. I need to taste on my fucking tongue," he hissed, hands scooting your ass to the edge of the desk, his heavy palm on your stomach motioning you to lean back, "You don't mind if I use my fingers first?" He looked up at you through his carnage.

"Are you kidding me?!? If you don't I'm going to fucking scream!" You shouted, hands finding his face, traveling into his hair, a sensation he's waited so long for.

"Okay then," he began to slide one finger into your slick, a low shudder escaping his lips. "Good, let's see how you do with another one..." His moistened lips, flushed pink, eyes searching your expression for your sweet spot.

Your hips slowly rocking to the rhythm he created, moans slipping out of you like soft whispers. "You make really pretty noises Y/N," he smirked, peppering your inner thighs with hard lips, "but I'm looking for something with a little bit of fire," he hissed. His fingers curled, pressing and rubbing your sweetness with passion, his free hand adding pressure to your lower abdomen, intensifying your orgasm.

"Fu, fu,-Carmen...pluh, plu-"

"Use your words, babygirl. I can't understand you when you're like this," he snickered, his tongue aiding in his prayer, mouth wrapped around your sin, sucking and flicking it hungrily. Thighs tightening around his frame, hands feverishly gripping at him, you were losing control and he knew it. He loved every second of you begging him with moans to keep going. "Mmm...Chef, yes...right...there..."you moaned breathlessly.