Mirepoix (A Recipe Of Love Book 1) (9 page)

“No. As much as it surprises me, you mean more to me already than any temporary pleasure we might gain. Now let’s figure this out so that I can bury my cock inside you so deep we both forget my name. Now the way I see it we have some explosive chemistry that I would love to explore. I already care about you and can only see it getting stronger the more I’m around you. I can tell you now I’m an overprotective bastard when it comes to the people I care about, so expect me to be hounding you to make sure you’re good. I need to know what your triggers are so that I can do what I can to avoid them and make sure everyone else does too.”

He spits this out while rubbing his thumbs across the front of my hips while his fingers dig into my ass. He seems to be forcing himself to hold me at bay which makes me feel better. I wouldn’t want to be alone in my suffering. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s actually tripping one of my good triggers at the moment. The idea of how strong he is and how he can maneuver my body however he wants has me ready to beg.

“I have most of it under control, and I don’t know how to explain it so it makes sense. I always feel like people are judging me and finding me lacking. As long as I stay out of the spotlight or situations where I know people are judging me I’m fine. If I do start feeling like I’m being judged I automatically assume I’m a disappointment, or they can see all my flaws. Then I start spiralling and think everyone finds me lacking and hates me. I can have panic attacks over it and that’s the worst. Normally logic and pain can snap me out of it and force me to respond logically instead of emotionally. I’ll probably doubt how you feel about me or what you think of me and drive you crazy.” Apparently getting depressed thinking of how I would never be able to keep a man like him works like a bucket of ice water to my libido.

“Ok, so you need constant reminding of how amazing you are, that’s not a problem. I can’t read your mind though, so you have to tell me when I hurt you or when you have doubts so that I can talk through them with you. My worry is how many hours I work, I know that you’re aware how long of a day I have to put in. I also work most holidays, so we won’t be able to have traditional holiday celebrations but we can figure out a way to celebrate if it’s important to you.” He’s still holding me still so he must have felt me jolt over him bringing up holidays that are months away. “Yes, I hope this works out well enough that we have to figure out holidays that are months from now. You’re always welcome at the shop but I know you understand if we’re in the weeds I can’t stop, it doesn’t mean you’re not important to me though. Also if you have any ideas please tell me, don’t assume that I’m not interested in your opinion, I may not always be able to implement them or agree on them but I always want to hear them. Do you have any questions or triggers I need to watch for?”

“No questions right now since I’m stuck in a cedar wood haze but I reserve the right to ask them at a later point in time when they randomly pop into my mind. Don’t ignore my text messages for more than 12 hours. I understand you’re busy and how important your career is to you but if you go more than 12 hours, I’ll think you’re mad at me and I did something wrong.” I tell him as I am sneakily moving my hands closer to his belt buckle, he chuckles when I mention the haze. I really need to work on developing a mouth filter. Right as I reach my destination and am about to declare victory I find my hands captured and held behind my back, I gasp at the suddenness of the move not to mention the position I find myself in.

I freeze like the field mouse again, definitely feeling like prey. The position I’m in pushes my breasts up like feast for him. I try to control my breathing but I’m panting with excitement. Every breath pulls more of his scent into me. I watch with fascination as his pupils dilate drowning the green of his eyes in darkness. A decidedly predatory smile twists his lips when he realizes that I’m not paralyzed by fear but anticipation.

“Hmmm seems like maybe my overbearing and controlling ways might not be as much of a problem as I thought they would. Did you forget to tell me anything important, Pixie?” He huskily murmurs as he nudges my hair over my shoulder with his chin baring my neck to his ministration.

“I.. I’m worried about being judged so I am afraid of being up front about it. I’ve had men in the past tell me how there’s something wrong with me…” he nips my neck punishingly at this before licking the pain away.

“Now that we’ve established that you’re not as vanilla as I worried, what’s your kink? You clearly like being physically restrained.” His menacing chuckle seems to echo through my body reaching straight for my clit making it pound. I instinctively jerk against his hold trying to make him prove he can keep hold of me. I rock my hips trying to get closer to his cock so I can tempt him to fill me and take this ache away. A sharp slap to my ass has me freezing again.

“I don’t think you’re a masochist but I’m guessing you’re submissive. You like positive reinforcement telling you that you’re desired and are a good girl. You need to be able to be overwhelmed so that you can stop worrying and enjoy yourself, huh? You need to be forced out of your own head for your body to get what it needs. Am I right, Pixie?” He bites my ear punishingly when I hesitate in answering.

It’s instinctive for me to hold back. Once I realized the truth about myself and tried discuss it with the guy I was seeing at the time, he didn’t waste any time telling me how disgusting I was and running so fast I expected to see a cloud of dust. I was such a mess afterwards I didn’t think anything of telling Lindsay, I already knew she would never judge me or leave me for being who I am. She’s who tried to hook me up with Andy, he’s a great guy and we tried to make it work but my kink is more control and his is more about pain. I still had the same needs but didn’t think I could succeed in finding someone who could fulfill them without trying to take over my life.

“Yes but only in the bedroom. I’m not a pet.” I’m so close to begging. He still has my hands pinned to my lower back with one hand while he uses the other to slowly move up and down my side. His thumb stopping just short of rubbing the underside of my breast. It feels like they’ve swollen to twice their normal size to try to entice his touch. He moves his head to the other side of my neck scratching the sensitive skin with his scruff. I start writhing again trying to get friction where I need it or him to finally bring his thumb to where I need it. Another sharp slap to my ass has me gasping and throwing my head back.

“Say please like a good girl, Pixie.” He whispers harshly into my ear before biting it like he did its mate.

“Please. Please. Please, Joe. I’m empty, it hurts!” I moan desperately.

Joe snags one of the ottomans with his foot without letting go of my wrists. He lays me on my back across it and yanks my leggings off in a quick motion.

“Oh….. my naughty little Pixie likes going commando does she? I’ll admit I wondered why I never saw any panty lines on that delectable ass.” He pulls me up just long enough to pull my shirt off and unhook my bra pulling it off too before laying me back on the ottoman. He runs his hands slowly up my arms placing my hands on the handle behind my head.

“Hold on like that or I stop. God look at your breasts, pretty little nipples standing up nice and hard, hoping I see them. There’s no way I would miss them.” He folds over me and lowers his head flicking one with his tongue while his hands spread my thighs as wide as they can go around him with my feet flat on the edge of the ottoman. He’s still fully clothed and the roughness of his shirt and jeans against my overly sensitized skin is driving me even higher. He switches to the other breast treating it to the same small nips. His hands slide back up my thighs and stop with his thumbs just barely brushing my pussy lips. I can feel them sliding back and forth slightly in the wetness that’s flowing out of me. I have the stray thought that maybe we should have put down a towel or blanket first.

Suddenly Joe raises up to his knees, I cry out at the lack of his warmth until I realize he is taking his shirt off. He crosses his arms in front of him and grabs the hem pulling it off in a quick fluid movement. Mother of god he has muscles in places I didn’t even know you could have muscles. He is lean like a swimmer instead of bulky, his shoulders are broad, tapering to a lean waist, and I could definitely wash laundry on those abs. Almost every inch is covered with ink, it would take me hours to trace my fingers and tongue over them all. I long to let go of the handle but don’t want this glorious torture to stop. My body is shaking with need as I fight to hold on.

“Good girl. You’re doing so great. I think it’s time to reward you for behaving.” He moves between my legs and lowers his head licking straight up from asshole to clit before flicking his tongue out over my clit repeatedly
. “You taste like ambrosia.” He mumbles against my flesh as he sucks hard on my clit and slides a finger deep inside me. I feel a stretching burn as he adds a second finger before sliding them in and out of me curling his fingers on every stroke in. 

He lifts his head looking straight in my eyes and whispers “Come for me, Pixie.”, before going back to my pussy. The minute his lips pull on my clit I explode, fragmenting into a million pieces with a scream.  My ears are ringing, my vision is dark and
sparkly at the same time. When I come back to earth, I feel Joe soothingly rubbing my legs waiting for me to recover. While I was in outer space he had removed his jeans, unleashing a dick that was a thing of beauty. Red, angry and standing straight up to his belly button it throbbed, begging for attention. I watch with rapt attention as he unrolls a condom down its length before lining it up with my pussy.

“I could become addicted to watching you come Frankie, you practically glow with beauty when you let go. It’s going to be a joy watching that look on your face over and over again.” He said as he fills me with one hard deep thrust. “Magnificent. Your tight little pussy was made for me Pixie. You’re small enough for me to just pick up and hold tight while I fuck your body until you’re limp," He anchors his hands on either side of my head holding on to the edge of the ottoman to give him leverage to power into me even harder. His brutal thrusts throw me over the edge again. He doesn’t slow down just keeps slamming deep inside me.

“You can let your hands go.” He growls as he bites down on my neck. I immediately anchor my hands in his hair as I soar again, I feel him groan out his orgasm with me. His hair is damp with sweat as I cling to him shuddering waiting for my body to come back online.

“Bellissimo” he whispers as he kisses my forehead, like a benediction as he gathers me in his arms sitting back on the couch holding me tight. Feeling surrounded by his safe arms and as weak as a contented kitten I allow myself to cuddle in and drift off to sleep. I have the absent thought that his hair is definitely soft and warm as I succumb to the peaceful feeling I’m enjoying.

11

I flip the french toast I have going in one skillet before checking the bacon in another, all while shaking my booty to grinding rock. As a minor concession to Joe sleeping I have the music quiet for once, to me rock should always be loud enough to disturb the neighbors. I have speakers mounted everywhere so that if I want to, I can be fully surrounded and immerse myself in the music. I somehow smell him over the scent of the food before I feel him come up behind me, moving my hair to one side, he kisses my shoulder where I have a perfect outline of his teeth from last night.

“A few more minutes and everything will be ready to eat. Do you want to grab us some plates?” I move the pieces of french toast that are done to the platter before putting the final slices in to cook. The scent of him combines with bacon, vanilla and cinnamon weaving an odd web that is simultaneously exciting and yet comforting. I can feel him moving behind me as he reaches over me and grabs plates. He sets them on the counter before wrapping his arms around me and laying his cheek on the top of my head. He seems as content as I am to exist in a bubble where talking isn’t necessary right now.

I scoop out the cooked bacon and last of the french toast before turning the burners off under the skillets. I turn and burrow into his hold. I don’t know if it’s his size, his smell or something completely unexplainable but I feel safe in his arms. I wish neither of us needed to work today and could exist in this bubble all day. I know however, the real world keeps going, no matter how much I wish it would stay still.

“There’s one of the single cup coffee machines in the cupboard in the end if you want to make yourself some.” I tell Joe as I start plating our breakfast, I sprinkle powdered sugar over the french toast, put the plates on the island and grab the syrup I’ve already warmed out of the microwave.

“I don’t get it. I know you drink coffee, so why don’t you keep your machine on the counter?” He queries as he puts the machine on the counter and sorts through the various single serving cup options in the cabinet. I hand him a measuring cup full of water for the machine as I grab forks. “I drink coffee when I visit Mikey, because his is the nectar of the gods. For the most part I avoid caffeine unless I’m there since it can exacerbate my anxiety. Linds bought the machine and put it in my cupboard and randomly replenishes her cache of cups. Every time I remind her she lives one floor away she rolls her eyes and tells me it’s too far to go. She gets me random weird decaf options, like look, here’s warm apple cider and I think I just had the last of the pumpkin spice so I’ll need to remind her to bring me more.”

I walk around the counter and climb up on my stool and watch as he grabs the mug as the coffee finishes brewing. I chuckle when I see he grabbed one of the nerdy mugs that says Idjit across the front. I don’t know if he knows what it’s from or just finds it amusing but make a note to ask him later, I DVR every episode and we could binge watch them if he wants to. He climbs on to the stool next to me and stops and stares at his plate of food. Oh god, I hope he doesn’t complain about something as far as I know he doesn’t have any food allergies so I can’t figure out why he’s staring at the plate like he is. Nothing is burned and to me the bacon is perfectly crispy without being too crispy, I stop myself when I can tell I’m starting to get worked up.