As their breathing returned to normal, Lucas pulled away and discarded the condom. She took his hand and led him back to the living room, settling on the sofa with a bottle of wine.
Emily poured two glasses of deep red wine, the liquid sloshing softly against the crystal. She handed one to Lucas, their fingers brushing as he took it.
“Want some of that chocolate gateau now?” she asked, a playful glint in her eye.
Lucas smirked, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Yes please, baby girl.”
Emily padded to the kitchen, returning with two generous slices of the decadent dessert. She settled onto the sofa, draping her legs across Lucas’ lap. The TV flicked on, some mindless reality show providing background noise.
“Christ, this is good,” Lucas mumbled around a mouthful of cake.
Emily snorted. “Careful there. Don’t want to choke on your-”
Her words cut off as a glob of chocolate sauce slid down Lucas’ chest. She raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across her face.
“Oh no,” Lucas deadpanned. “How clumsy of me.”
Emily leaned in, her tongue darting out to lick the sticky trail. “Mmm,” she hummed against his skin. “You did that on purpose, you bastard.”
Lucas’ fingers tangled in her hair. “Prove it,” he challenged, his voice husky.
Emily’s mind raced. She wanted nothing more than to straddle him right there, but cake.
“You’re playing with fire, Hart,” she warned, settling back reluctantly.
Lucas chuckled, his eyes darkening with mischief. “You think that was bad? Sweetheart, it could be so much worse.”
Before Emily could react, he dipped his finger into the thick chocolate frosting on his plate. With deliberate slowness, he traced a line down her neck, the cool sweet leaving a tingling trail on her heated skin.
“Lucas,” she breathed, her pulse quickening. “What are you-”
Her words dissolved into a soft moan as his lips found her neck, his tongue licking the chocolate off with exquisite care. Each swipe sent jolts of electricity through her body.
“Fuck,” Emily gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulder. “You’re playing a dangerous game here, Hart.”
He hummed against her skin, the vibration making her shiver. “I like danger. Don’t you, baby girl?”
Emily’s mind whirled. Part of her wanted to push him away, to regain some semblance of control. But a larger, more primal part revelled in the delicious tension.
“You’re impossible,” she muttered, tilting her head to give him better access.
Lucas pulled back, his eyes blazing with desire. “I want you naked beneath me,” he growled, his voice rough with need.
Emily’s breath caught. Without hesitation, she reached for the delicate straps of her baby doll, slowly sliding them off her shoulders. The lace whispered against her skin as it fell away, pooling around her hips in a tangle of fabric.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Lucas breathed, drinking in the sight of her.
Emily laid back on the sofa, watching him through half-lidded eyes. She parted her legs slightly, a smirk playing on her lips as she noticed his eyes widen.
“Like what you see?” she teased, her voice low and sultry.
Lucas didn’t answer. Instead, he reached for the plate of cake, scooping up a generous dollop of frosting. Emily’s breath hitched as he leaned over her, his finger trailing a line of chocolate around her breasts.
“Christ, Lucas,” she gasped, arching into his touch.
He focused on her nipples, circling each one with the sweet confection before moving to the sensitive swell of her breasts. Emily’s skin felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alive with sensation.
Lucas lowered his head, his tongue darting out to taste her skin. “Mmm,” he hummed appreciatively. “It tastes even better on you.”
Emily’s fingers tangled in his hair as he licked and sucked the chocolate from her skin. “Fuck,” she moaned, her body trembling beneath him.
Lucas lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire. “You taste incredible,” he murmured, his voice husky. “Better than any dessert.”
Emily pulled him down for a searing kiss, tasting the sweetness on his lips. “You’re going to be the death of me, Hart,” she breathed against his mouth.
He chuckled, nipping at her lower lip. “What a way to go, though.”
His hand trailed down her stomach, leaving a sticky trail of chocolate. Emily’s breath caught in her throat as his fingers traced the inside of her thigh, each touch sending electricity through her body.
“Spread for me,” Lucas whispered.
She parted her legs without hesitation, her body aching with need. He trailed chocolate up her inner thigh, his touch deliberately slow, deliberately teasing. Each inch felt like torture – delicious, unbearable torture.
When his mouth finally replaced his fingers, Emily cried out. His tongue thrust inside her, hot and deliberate, exploring every sensitive inch. The chocolate mixed with her own taste, creating a decadent sensory overload.
“Oh god,” she gasped, her hips bucking involuntarily.
Lucas pulled back just enough to murmur, “You’re the best dessert I’ve ever tasted.” His breath was hot against her most sensitive spot. “Absolutely delicious.”
Before she could respond, he dove back in. His tongue teased, stretched, explored – each movement calculated to drive her wild. Emily’s fingers gripped the sofa cushions, her back arching. She was desperate for friction, for release, for anything that would push her over the edge.
Her world narrowed to his touch, his tongue, the building tension that threatened to consume her completely.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, not pushing, not pulling, but gripping – a primal connection that communicated her mounting desperation. Lucas understood perfectly, alternating between long, languorous strokes across her opening and precise, targeted suction on her clit.
“Fuck,” she breathed, the word more exhaled than spoken.
He hummed against her, the vibration sending electric shivers through her nervous system. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady even as her body tried to buck and writhe. Each stroke was methodical, deliberate – like he was mapping her most intimate geography with his tongue.
Emily’s breathing became ragged. Her muscles began to tense, that familiar pre-orgasmic tremor starting deep in her core. Lucas seemed to sense this, his movements becoming more intense, more focused.
Her head tilted back against the sofa cushion, chestnut hair splaying out, green eyes half-closed. The chocolate residue from earlier still traced delicate lines across her skin, catching the soft lamplight in the room.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice a raw, urgent command.
And he didn’t.