Jake pushes the cream cannelloni into my mouth, almost choking me with the amount he’s picked up
from the plate. I struggle to push him away, stifling a giggle but he tries to ram it in further, close to
choking me. I lift my hand and push him off, taking half out of my mouth and dropping it on the napkin
in front of me, attempting to chew what’s already there. He stuffs some into his own mouth, seemingly
oblivious to what he’s done to me.
“What is this deal you have with ramming food in my mouth?” I finally say, shoving his shoulder
playfully. He leans around attempting another go at pushing more into my mouth, but I turn away.
“Jake!” I scold, pushing his hand back, he shrugs redirecting it into his own mouth instead.
“Feeding you is part of taking care of you.” He smiles but I only look at him with disbelief.
“There’s feeding someone … You know like sexily in the movies? And then there’s your version of
trying to ram my mouth full in one fell swoop and almost choking me to death.” I laugh.
“Seeing how much you can fit in there.” He winks suggestively, and I turn crimson as I get what he
means.
Oh boy … we have never crossed the whole ‘me giving him oral pleasure’ yet, I wouldn’t even know
how, and he’s never tried to initiate it. He’s never mentioned it despite doing it to me so many times. Is
this a hint?
“Before your overactive brain starts going on a time out, thinking I want you to drop your face in my lap
right now; I don’t.” He looks at me pointedly, always able to read me before I even finished thinking it.
“You’ll get there when you’re ready and if you don’t then it’s not an issue.” He picks up another piece of
cannelloni and points it toward my mouth. I shake my head and watch him eat it instead. For some
reason, eating our meals on or in his bed cross legged lately has started to become the norm.
We’re in stages of undress again after coming home and making out on the couch. Actually, more
grinding and squirming hotly on the couch and trying to stop his wandering hands incase Nora
appeared. His lust led to the bedroom soon after as he was unable to function knowing I had no
underwear on, and it was obvious with the speed in which he got me naked.
He’s fed me what the housekeeper left us for lunch. Steak dinner followed by cream cannelloni, which
is apparently a Jake favorite. I’m full to bursting and his bed looks like a food explosion happened. I’m
wearing his shirt over my nakedness and he’s only wearing his jeans. All that delicious torso and
muscular back and arms on show. My favorite view of him.
“I hate girls who play with food and eat nothing except lettuce.” He finally adds, looking me up and
down. “You’re thin and seem to have a fast metabolism, I like seeing you fed.” He smiles at me before
another attempt at pushing food my way. “Something sexy about a girl who eats normally.”
“I swear I’ll be sick if you try that again … I’m not you with your endless stomach.” I laugh, this time he
aims at my nose smearing cream down my face then dives on top of me to lick it back off. I squeal and
wriggle as his weight flattens me to the bed, his mouth sucking parts of my face the cream didn’t even
touch, he’s trying to rub more on me that has smeared up his hand from my fighting him off. I squeal
his name in objection, wriggling and battling those overly strong hands. Finally, he plants a kiss on my
mouth, smiling as he does so, making me laugh in the process.
“Sometimes you’re like a child.” I push him up so he’s no longer laying all over me and he sets his
hands down either side of my head to take his weight. My favorite view of Jake.
“Yeah, well get used to it, men never grow up, baby.” He picks up pieces of cannelloni and throws it
toward the plate, the sticky mess on the sheets making him frown. I look around at the carnage from
eating a full lunch here.
“Your bed is a total mess.” I point out.
“It’s our bed and I’m not sleeping here tonight so good luck with getting comfy in it.” He grins, leaning
down to kiss me again. I stop and sigh, reminded that he’s leaving in a couple of hours, suddenly
morose over that fact. It’s only for one night but it’s the why he’s going and the fact we haven’t been
apart since we started this relationship that I’m feeling depressed about it.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He breaks into my thoughts and leans in closer. “You make me want to
cancel it and stay home with you, bambino.” His eyes come to mine and I try a happier look, despite
wanting him to do anything else but go.
“You need to sort this out or she’ll just keep trying to call the shots.”
And endlessly calling with her huffs and demands as though she owns him.
That makes me grumpier than hell and he grins before poking me in the frown.
“Definitely don’t do that … Or I’ll just run away with you and forget anything about responsibility.” He
frowns too, flopping down beside me on the bed then flinches in disgust, arching up off the bed swiftly.
“What the …? Ugghh.” He leans up looking over his shoulder at the splodge of cream down his back
and sends me into hysterical laughter.
“We should start using your dining table.” I laugh as he slides off the bed and grabs a towel to clean it
off, he surveys the mess we’ve made, seeing the gravy spills from the steak when he tried to get a
hand up my thigh mid-eating.
“You think that’s funny?” He locks on me menacingly. I watch him, still laid flat on my back with
amusement then squeal as he yanks the sheets completely off the bed, causing me to roll with them
and land in a heap on the floor at his feet, bundled up in white and gray bedding.
“Hey!” I choke, trying to get out as a strong hand grabs my ankle and hauls me across the floor out of it
all. I’m picked up and thrown heavily on my back on the now single sheet covered mattress and he
comes to straddle me with a determined look on his face.
“Little girls who laugh at their boyfriends deserve to be disciplined.” He pins my arms above my head
with one hand then tortures me with tickles until I’m howling, pinned under him expertly. I squeal with
laughter, writhing and wriggling with protest until I’m too exhausted to fight anymore and tears are
pouring from my eyes. Unable to breathe properly. Finally, his relentless torture stills, and he moves to
lay over me again, kissing me softly.
“You’re a horrid boyfriend,” I gasp, trying to wipe my face and catch my breath, exhausted by him. A
smile forming on my lips as he moves close enough to rub noses, leaning over me, toying with almost
kissing me but keeping it just out of reach.
“I guess.” He smiles again, coming close as though he will, then moves back slightly with a gleam of
wickedness. I get infuriated and lift my head to kiss him instead. He’s quick and moves back smiling.
“Too slow!” He’s enjoying this … Playful, teasing Carrero has a new game. Torturing Emma!
“Fine!” I pout and turn my face away so he can’t kiss me anymore, but he grabs my chin pulling me
back with a look of sheer annoyance on his face that his game has been turned on him and hits me
with an extra seductive, passionate kiss. That glint of childish rage in his eye that he has been out
maneuvered. He moves over me with more than a nudge of his intentions. My body instantly igniting at
the slightest signal that he wants sex and she’s already purring.
* * *
“Wake up, neonata … I need to go.” Jake’s voice rouses me from my sleep. I’m sprawled over the bed
on nothing but a sheet with a fur throw over me, completely naked. He exhausted me to the point I
finally passed out, I have no idea how long I’ve been asleep and now he is going. I open my eyes in
protest, looking at him like a child who’s about to cry.
“I know, baby … It’s almost four, I’m late as it is because of this. I should have gone already … Daniel’s
already downstairs in the car.” He kisses me, leaning over me on the bed, fully dressed in a dark suit
and dark shirt left open at the collar and he smells like he always does. Aftershave and his own special
scent. He kisses me longingly, his hand coming up to tangle in my hair, his body comes down to rest on
mine gently, suddenly, I want to cling to him and not let him go. Emotion getting the better of me and
anxiety piquing.
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