The Cooking Seduction

The noise from downstairs jolted me awake, pulling me from the depths of sleep. Who could be making such a racket? Last I checked, I didn't have a roommate, and there was no maid in sight. 

Then it hit me—Louis, my boss. He must not have left yet. I glanced at my wristwatch, noting that I had been out cold for a solid three hours. Great. I groaned, pushing myself up, wincing slightly as a twinge of discomfort shot through my backside—still sore, but at least the pain had dulled. 

As I made my way toward the kitchen, a sharp pain jabbed at my abdomen, making me pause. I pulled out my phone and checked the calendar. Perfect. 

My period was just a few days away—explains the cramps. I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the ache, and followed the delicious smell wafting from the kitchen. Whatever Louis was cooking, it smelled divine. I couldn't help but wonder what on earth my boss was whipping up at this hour.

The sight of Louis at the stove stopped me dead in my tracks, my breath hitching in my throat. Damn, this man was dangerously hot. The way his muscles flexed under his shirt as he moved, the casual confidence in every little motion—it was almost criminal.

Louis's back was a masterpiece—broad and sculpted, the kind of back that made you want to trace every dip and ridge with your fingertips. His muscles shifted with each movement, rippling beneath his perfectly fitted shirt that clung to his frame like a second skin, hinting at the strength underneath.

 The shirt stretched just enough to reveal the tantalizing curve of his shoulder blades, leading down to a narrow waist that promised more than just strength—control, power, and a quiet kind of dominance.

 The way his dark hair brushed the nape of his neck, slightly tousled, made him look effortlessly sexy, like he'd just rolled out of bed in the most deliciously disheveled way. It was the kind of sight that sent a flutter straight to your belly, leaving you breathless and craving more.

As if the universe was testing my self-control, Louis shrugged off his shirt, tossing it carelessly onto the counter. My heart stuttered, and I bit down on my lip, hard. 

His bare back was a sight to behold—muscles rippling with each effortless move, every line and contour chiseled like a work of art. 

A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, catching the light just right, making him look even more irresistible. I could feel heat pooling low in my belly, spreading like wildfire. God, I was already soaked, completely undone by the sheer sight of him. It was maddening, and I could barely keep myself from letting out a needy gasp.

How in the world did Priscilla walk away from a man like this? She must have been drunk—or plain crazy. Because looking at Louis now, all I wanted was for him to take me, right here, right now, against the kitchen counter. My mind spun with filthy thoughts, and it took everything in me to push them away. I forced myself to cough lightly, trying to regain some composure.

Louis turned to face me, and my breath hitched. "Oh, Claire, you're awake," he said with a lazy, heart-stopping smile that sent shivers down my spine. And that's when I saw them—his perfect six-pack, every ridge and line carved to perfection, like a promise of sin. 

My knees nearly buckled. All I could think about was closing the distance between us, feeling his lips on mine, his hands exploring every inch of me, and those strong fingers plunging deep into my core. God help me, because resisting him felt like an impossible battle I was seconds away from losing.

"Take a picture, kitten—it'll last longer," Louis said with a smirk, his eyes never leaving the sizzling pan as he effortlessly flipped the bacon. Kitten? My breath hitched at the unexpected nickname. Was that his idea of teasing, or was there more to it? 

"I wasn't staring… I was… umm," I stuttered, desperately trying to string together a coherent excuse, but my flushed cheeks and racing heartbeat betrayed me.

"Yeah, right. Tell yourself that," he chuckled, glancing over his shoulder with a knowing look that sent a shiver down my spine. The cockiness in his voice and the way his eyes lingered on mine made it clear—I was completely caught, and he was loving every second of it.

"Sit down; the food will be ready in a few minutes," Louis said casually, his voice low and smooth as he continued to cook. I sank into the chair, my eyes still glued to him, unable to tear away from the sight of his broad back and those flexing muscles. 

I was throbbing, every nerve in my body on fire. God, I was so horny I could hardly think straight. Was it the hormones from my period creeping up on me, or was it just him—this ridiculously sexy man standing in front of me, making even something as simple as cooking look like pure seduction?

I needed to get laid—no, scratch that. I needed him. Right now, right here. I clenched my thighs together, trying to suppress the ache, but every second I watched him, it only got worse. The hunger in me wasn't just for food; it was for him.

"Here," Louis said as he set the plate in front of me. The food looked incredible, but all I could think about was how badly I wanted the cook instead. I reluctantly took the first bite, and the flavors exploded on my tongue. I couldn't help it—I moaned, the sound slipping out before I could stop myself. 

"Mmm, this is freaking good," I moaned even louder, savoring every bit of the taste but also reveling in the tension I knew it was causing. 

"Stop," Louis murmured, his voice a low, strained whisper. 

"Stop what?" I asked, feigning innocence as I licked my lips, teasing him, knowing full well I was pushing boundaries. 

"Stop making that sound," he said, his tone thick with an unspoken need. 

I knew exactly what he meant, but I couldn't resist. I wanted to see how far I could push him, boss or not. "Ahhh, yes, Daddy! Just like that!" I moaned louder, closing my eyes and letting the fantasies run wild. "These titties are yours—suck them!" 

I knew it was reckless, teasing him like this, but the heat between us was undeniable, and I was more than ready to see what would happen when he finally snapped.

"Come here!" Louis's voice was rough, and in a flash, he was in front of me, his grip firm as he grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him. The intensity in his eyes made my breath hitch, and I couldn't help but glance down, catching sight of the bulge straining against his pants. God, he was hard—rock hard—and it only made my core ache even more.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Miss West?" he whispered hotly in my ear, his breath warm against my skin, sending a shiver that left goosebumps in its wake. His voice was deep, dripping with lust and barely restrained desire. My knees felt weak, and all I could think was.

"Yes, please! Please, sir, fuck me!" I begged, my voice trembling with desperation. "Yes, I'm begging. You can call me crazy or stupid, but I can't take it anymore!" My body was on fire, and I needed him to make me his.

"Do you want my cock in that wet core of yours?" he teased, his eyes burning with unrestrained desire as he stared at me. 

"Yes! Fuck yes!" I cried out, my words a raw, needy plea.

"Not now," he said gently, his voice softening as he stroked my lips with his finger. Then he looked at me intently and asked, "Do you have a boyfriend, Miss West?" His gaze was steady, searching, and it cut through the heat of the moment with an unexpected question that made me pause.