Claire stood barefoot on the tiled Kitchen floor, her favourite lemon-yellow sundress clinging lightly to her hips. The hem danced around her thighs as she moved, soft fabric brushing bare skin. 

She opened the oven, a waft of hot air spilling out and fogging her glasses slightly. Two golden sponge cakes sat in the tins, risen perfectly. She bent to pull them out, and that was all it took. The dress rode up just enough to tease her husband Nate with the curve of her arse.

Nate let out a low breath. “You do that on purpose.”

Claire placed the tins on the cooling rack and turned, one brow raised. “Do what?” She grinned, wiping her hands on a tea towel. “I’m just baking, love. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Oh, yeah, Everyone loves baking with no underwear on,” he said, stepping towards her. “That flash left little to the imagination”

Claire gave a soft laugh, shaking her head as she moved to the counter. “You're awful.”

She reached for the bowl of double cream and the whisk, her back to him once more. The sound of the whisk clattering in the bowl filled the room, but Nate didn’t stop watching. Her arms moved fluidly, the soft swell of her breasts shifting beneath the dress with every motion. Cream splattered lightly onto the counter, and onto her skin.

“Do you need some help?” he asked, voice low.

Claire didn’t look back. “You’re more of a distraction than a help.”

“Is that a yes?”

She stopped whisking, scooping some of the thickened cream onto her finger, then licked it clean slow, with a little moan just at the end.

“Jesus,” Nate muttered.

“I don’t need any help,” she said, giving him a look over her shoulder. “But I could be persuaded to let you join in, if you’re desperate.”

He stepped behind her, not touching her yet, just close enough that she could feel him through the air. His voice dropped lower. “You know you’ve been teasing me all day.”

Claire gave a little hum, licking another dab of cream from the corner of her mouth. “Mmm. And what are you planning to do about it?”

“Nothing yet,” he said. “Not until you’re done whipping.”

“Patient man.”

“Barely.”

His hand came to rest on her hip, thumb tracing the line where skin met fabric. She leaned back slightly, just enough for her bum to brush against his crotch. The tension crackled, warm and thick like melting chocolate.

Claire clicked the whisk off and placed it in the sink. “Cakes are cooling. Cream’s nearly done.”

“Then I guess we’ve got a few minutes before the icing goes on,” Nate murmured.

She turned in his arms, holding his gaze as she reached behind her and scooped a dollop of whipped cream up with her finger and slowly smeared it across her collarbone.

“Oops,” she said, lips curving.

He didn’t even blink. He bent forward and licked it clean, slowly dragging his tongue along her skin while she shivered in his hands. He lingered at the hollow of her throat, his mouth warm, his breath hotter.

She shivered. “You missed a bit.”

He smirked against her skin. “Did I?”

She dipped her finger into the bowl again and traced another line, this time just beneath the strap of her dress, across the swell of her chest. “There.”

Nate stepped back just enough to see, his eyes following the trail like a man watching the sunrise hit a mountain range. Then he lowered his head again and ran his tongue along the new line of cream. His lips brushed the edge of her breast. Her hands slid into his hair as she breathed out a soft moan.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to look at her. “You taste better than anything you’ve ever baked.”

She reached behind her and untied the knot holding the dress up at her neck, letting the fabric loosen. It slipped down an inch, then another. She wasn’t in a rush. She liked to tease him.

Claire turned back to the counter, dipping her finger back into the bowl of whipped cream. She smeared it along her collarbone again, then down a bold, creamy line drawn over the top curve of her breast ending with a little peak on her nipple.

Nate's mouth followed the trail of cream with deliberate, languid licks, like he was savouring every second. She gasped when his tongue flicked over her nipple. Her fingers curled around the edge of the worktop. “You’re making a mess.”

He chuckled, low in his throat. “No, you are making the mess. I’m just cleaning up.”

She laughed breathlessly, head tilting back against his shoulder as he kissed along her jaw.

“You should stop, or I’ll never get to icing the cake.”

“You’re the only dessert I’m thinking about right now,” he growled, as his hands slid down to the backs of her thighs, lifting her with ease and setting her on the counter beside the sponge layers, now forgotten.

He took the mixing bowl of cream and set it next to her, then dipped his fingers into it, dragging them down her chest, across her sternum, and stomach, pushing her dress down as he went.

Claire bit her lip, eyes locked on his. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You married ridiculous,” he said, bringing his fingers to her lips. “Lick.”

She did, slow and suggestive, tongue curling around the tips of his cream-covered fingers. She didn’t break eye contact as she sucked them clean.

Nate’s control snapped like an over-whipped meringue. Licking the fresh trail of cream he’d just placed and adding more as he went. His mouth was everywhere, tongue, lips, the scratch of his stubble against her soft skin, and Claire was squirming on the counter, cream smeared across her chest, her breath coming in quick, needy bursts.

Her hand reached down between them, fingers brushing over the hard line of him beneath his jeans.

“Off,” she whispered, tugging at the waistband.

“Not yet,” he murmured, voice thick with lust. “You’re still underdone.”

He grabbed the chocolate sauce she’d left on the side, twisted off the cap, and looked at her with a grin that was pure sin. “Mind if I decorate the cake?”

Claire let out a shaky laugh as Nate held up the bottle of chocolate sauce. “You’re not seriously going to pour that over me?”

“Oh, I’m very serious,” he said, twisting off the cap. “You started this.”

She tilted her head, challenging. “I just teased you with a bit of cream, you are the one who has me half stripped and sitting on the counter.”

“You’re teasing has consequences,” he said, stepping between her knees, fingers grabbing her dress. “It’s time you learnt that lesson.”

In one motion, he pulled the dress off, over her hips, and off slender legs. Beneath it, nothing. Just smooth skin, flushed and smeared with whipped cream.

He took a breath, like he was trying to compose himself. Failed. “Fuck, Claire.”

She arched a brow. “Still hungry?”

Nate peeled his shirt off, tossing it aside. Claire’s eyes roamed over him, strong chest, light trail of hair down his stomach, belt still frustratingly fastened. She reached for it, undoing the buckle slowly as he stepped out of his jeans. 

She reached for the chocolate sauce bottle as she asked, “Now, where was it you wanted this?” She squirted a thin stream across her chest, the glossy brown sliding between her breasts, down her ribs, across her belly, joining the cream in a sticky, sinful mess.

Nate growled low in his throat. “You’re killing me.”

“I’m decorating,” she said, lips parted, eyes dark. “You said I was a cake. What kind of baker doesn’t finish the job?”

He didn’t answer, just dropped to his knees in front of her. His hands spread her thighs as he licked a stripe of chocolate from her hip, moving with slow, deliberate reverence. His mouth chased the drizzle down her body, hot tongue against cold sauce, lips tasting, teasing, never quite giving her the pressure she craved.

When his tongue found her wet core, Claire’s head dropped back as she cried out, thighs trembling around his shoulders. Her body arched into him as he devoured her, licking cream and chocolate as if he were starving. The sweet mess of her was all over his face, and he didn’t stop. Didn’t want to. Every sound she made pushed him further, every twist of her hips was another reason to keep going until she shattered.

He licked a long stripe from the base of her folds to the aching point of her clit, then circled it making her thighs quiver around his shoulders, cream and chocolate smearing across his cheeks as he moved, lips sealing over her clit and sucking just hard enough to make her cry out. One of her hands scrabbled for purchase on the edge of the counter, the other tangled in his hair, holding him right where she needed him.

“Oh fuck, Nate! I’m so close!” she gasped, hips twitching.

He shifted his grip, arms sliding beneath her thighs, pulling her closer to the edge until she was completely open to him, spread for him, drenched and trembling. His tongue alternated between firm strokes and tight circles. The scent of cream and chocolate mixed with the musky smell of her arousal as she got more and more soaked.

Claire’s head fell back, hair tumbling over her shoulders, breasts heaving with every ragged breath. She was close. So close. Her entire body tightened, drawn like a bowstring, each flick of his tongue another inch toward the breaking point.

When he flattened his tongue and licked hard, slow, dragging across her clit with just enough pressure to make her whole body jerk that was it.

Her back arched, a high, choked cry tearing from her throat. Her thighs clamped around his head, body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure ripped through her, raw and consuming and so very messy. Her fingers curled into his hair like she never wanted to let go. Her stomach twitched, cream and chocolate smeared across her skin, her orgasm pulsing out in sharp, exquisite shocks.

Nate didn’t let up, not until she was gasping, shaking, falling apart in his arms.

Only then did he pull back, licking his lips, face glistening with a mix of her juices, cream, and chocolate, his eyes dark with hunger. Claire pulled him into a kiss without hesitation, tasting herself and sugar on his tongue, groaning as their bodies pressed together, hot and slick.