In the kitchen, Tony looked around at the mess his staff had made. “Clean down!” He yelled. He had been gone a mere two hours to take care of some business. “Susan, what the fuck happened here?” His cooks were too well trained to make for this chaotic scene.
“It was Jaime, Tony. He cut his hand, then spilt blood all over, and it took a turn for the worse from there.” Susan, the tough as nails sous-chef, hastily said. Tony didn’t see their newest apprentice at work. Tony was considered one of the top chefs of the moment. The Australian Cuisine was booming, and he had a lot of spoons in a lot of pots. He saw it as his duty to take on apprentices and get a new generation ready for the professional kitchen. Things were changing. When he’d been an apprentice, he’d done everything but wet himself in fear when a Chef would have yelled at him. Youngsters these days wouldn’t stand for that treatment, and rightfully so. No one had the right to treat people that way. But they did need to learn that a kitchen had a structure and hierarchy. Services were stressful and demanding. They benefited from being well organised, to curb the chaos.
Jaime was young and appeared to have a hard time adjusting. Safety training was the entire first day. He should have known there was no reason to run around the kitchen with a bleeding hand. The whole crew was trained to take care of those messes.
“Where is he now?”
“Dan has taken him to the ER. It looked worse than it was, but the boy was panicking.”
Tony chuckled. “I suppose you’ll have a go at him when he returns?” He offered. His sous-chef was very capable of handling these messes. Maybe even better than he was. In his heart, he was a softie. His friends knew that. His co-workers not so much, because he rarely stayed anywhere long enough to let that side pop up.
“If he’ll be back,” Susan answered. “I already had a go at him, and seeing his… gentle nature, he might decide that this kitchen is a bit too much for him.” She’d had talked about Jaime before. He certainly wasn’t someone to whom it came naturally. Cooking, yes. But when working in the kitchen, insight, working together with other people etc. was equally important.
“You got this. I’ll be in the office.”
Sitting behind his desk, staring at the screen before it came to life, he remembered his dream from that night. She had been there again. Abigail.
As Tony closed his eyes, he recalled her image. They were in an old kitchen. It was night.
“Do I need to call Mrs Green?” Abigail had tenderly said. They were holding hands.
He shook his head as he pulled her close, pushing her to the strong wooden kitchen table. It didn’t budge under their weight. “I’m perfectly okay getting a late-night snack myself.” He said in a hoarse voice.
She giggled, then raised her hand to tenderly stroke his curls. She loved them, and he loved how her fingers felt running through it.
“You sir, are the most indecent person I have ever met.”
“Likewise, milady.” His hand stroked her body over the nightdress, feeling her hard nipples through the thin fabric.
Hungrily Abigail kissed him, sliding her hand under his shirt. “I’m glad you came home early.”
“I didn’t want to stay away any longer.” He groaned. She allowed Antoine to push her down on the table. “I missed you so much.” She wasn’t wearing panties. It was by his request, although he wondered if she would have, seeing he wasn’t expected back that night.
“Full access, always, I seemed to have promised.”
“Abigail.” He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. Although he relished her surrender to him in bed, he didn’t expect it in other aspects of their lives. If anything, he was happy she was her own person. As much as she wanted to be with him, she didn’t need him. He at least hadn’t bought his bride, like his brother appeared to have done.
Antoine shoved up her nightgown, baring her stomach and legs.
“Now that’s something I’m in the mood for.”
Thankfully he sank his mouth to her slit.
A satisfied sigh escaped Abigail’s mouth. “Yes, love.” She encouraged him.
He made sure to fire her up, but not bring her off yet. It was frustrating to her, and she loved how he did that. He was master at edging her.
“Better than shepherd’s pie.” He mumbled, making her laugh through her moaning. Her hand clawed in his hair again, unwilling to let him go.
“Please, Antoine. I’m suffering.” She begged. His fingers slid in and out of her with ease. She wasn’t lying.
Straightening out, he rammed his lid in her hard while his hand gripped her mount, his thumb pushing to her clit.
A scream escaped her lips. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand, not wanting to raise the whole household. Antoine found it adorable. He had lived in a house with live-in staff his entire life and knew they probably knew everything that happened. Otherwise, they’d have been interrupted long before now. He allowed her the illusion of their privacy though, scared she might feel the need to hold back if she knew.
Abigail pulled up her legs, her hands clawing into them in need of something to hold on to. Her body started to shake underneath Antoine’s staccato thrusting. His thumb was flicking her little ruby until she thought she couldn’t take anymore. Shaking hard, Abigail came. “One more, you can do it,” Antoine ordered without holding back. With no time to recover, Abigail’s second orgasm came on the waves of the first and made her move so violently she nearly slid off the table.
Antoine bent forward, protecting her from falling and slowing down until he came to a full stop, his lid still inside of her.
Patiently he waited until her body came to a halt as well and she was ready to face him.
She reached out to him, her hands on the sides of his head and kissed him. “I love you so incredibly much.” She whispered to his lips. His arms slid around her back as he held her, gently rocked her. Sometimes the violence of her surrender, of her orgasms was scaring the crap out of him. But then she came back, this tender, and this open. He swallowed away a tear when she did.
She noticed it and stroked his cheek. If anything, she loved how open about his feelings Antoine was. Maybe he was too open, too soft—the younger brother. Abigail knew what a hard time his father had given him about it.
Antoine smiled at her. “I’m okay.”
Pressing another small kiss to his lips, she nodded. “I know. You’re here. You’re with me. And I’ll kill anyone wanting to hurt you. Don’t change, Antoine.”
He shook his head. In their relationship, she was the strong one. The one who had given up on everything to be with him. She wasn’t scared to lose it all again either, as long as they could be together.
She gave him a playful push, took off her nightgown and threw it on the floor at his feet. Before he could stop her, she kneeled on it, making sure he was posted to the table.
At first, her hand playfully explored his firm rod. He had not asked her to do this. He would never have, of his wife, but she had let him know she didn’t mind.
With a groan he welcomed her light touch, knowing full well this was repaying him for his previous teasing. He looked down to see her look up at him with big eyes, waiting.
To prolong the pleasure, he let her play for a bit. Stroke him, tease him, gently jack him off. Pressing her finger to that sensitive skin between his rod and his anus.
Then he’d had enough. He knew Abigail would push him right until he’d take the lead. He didn’t make her wait any longer. Rudely he grabbed her hair and led his lid right into her mouth, pushing in so deep, he felt it hit her throat.
Her scream was muffled by his rod filling up her mouth. “Suck it, Abigail.” He ordered, hanging on to her head with both hands to prevent her from getting away. She knew how to let him know she wanted to stop. They’d had agreed on signals like that. She didn’t use them. Instead, she did as he wished, taking him deep into her mouth, sucking, licking him as her hand cupped his sac.
Antoine groaned. Had the first time been exploratory, she hadn’t done it before, or not much at least, these days she was getting good at it, knowing exactly how to keep him on edge. He didn’t want to be on edge. He wanted to come. On his way home, he had already imagined her lying in bed, asleep. He could hardly wait to crawl in to make love to her. The mere vision of her had already been arousing to him.
Abigail felt that Antoine was done playing and was insisting on a race to the finish.
She slid her hand under him a bit further and gently pushed the ring of his anus as he had done to her countless times. Meanwhile, his lid slid in her mouth, and as it hit the back, she swallowed.
“Oh, crap,” Antoine yelled, holding on to her head, frantically moving while spilling his come.
He had lost all control and handled her pretty tough, not letting go of her until he was sure she had swallowed every drop of his come.
It even startled him when he calmed down and looked at her.
He quickly let go of her head and pulled her up. “Abigail, I’m…” She silenced him by pushing her mouth to his. She didn’t want him to apologise. She wanted him to be happy and satisfied.
He wrapped his arm around her as his other found her wetness to play with. Abigail groaned in delight when he did. His rough treatment had made her crave more. She doubted if this would be it for the night. Antoine was rarely satisfied with only one go, so they would probably continue upstairs. But she found that she liked it in odder places than that. Like now, in the kitchen that was full of people in the daytime. The cook, housekeeping, the gardeners, tradespeople, and whatnot more. To be here with just Antoine, making love, it felt naughty and added to the sexiness of it.
Antoine’s thumb and index finger rolled her clit, causing Abigail to moan. It hurt, but it felt hot and amazing at the same time.
She wrapped her arms around Antoine’s shoulder to not fall over.
“Oh shit.” She said to his neck. Somehow she doubted if she could come this way, the feeling was too intense.
But when Antoine’s teeth scraped her shoulder, she pushed her mouth to his not to scream as her body took on a life of itself and shook hard. She felt liquid trail down her leg. Antoine had to hold on to her tightly to prevent her from hitting the floor hard. Her legs were jelly; all of her muscles had tightened and then let go at the same time.
Tears streamed over Abigail’s face as Antoine had loosened his grip. Both his arms were around her now, hugging her tenderly.
“I’m sorry.” She sobbed to his shoulder.
He pushed her away a little, so he could see her face and shook his head.
“That was…” It had been a spur of the moment thing. He’d never done this to her before.
He would have loved to swing her in his arms and carry her to bed, but she was too heavy. Instead, he chose to hold her tight, letting her sob onto his shoulder, kissing her hair, rocking her in his arms. “Don’t be sorry. That was beautiful.” He mumbled in her ear. “You are so god damn beautiful.”
After a while, she straightened out and dared look at him.
“If you’re going to say sorry again, I’m going to send you upstairs and spank the sorry out of you.” He challenged her.
He could see her doubt as she bit her lip.
“I’m sorry.” She answered decidedly.
“That’s it.” He turned her away from him. He hit her naked bum. “Upstairs with you, bend over the side of the bed to receive your punishment!” He barked at her.
She looked at him a split second, then decided she happily would.
When she bent down to pick up her nightgown, he put his foot on it. “Go!” He ordered.
Abigail took a deep breath and did as he said, running rather than walking through the house naked, up to their bedroom, hoping by god none of the household staff was awake to witness it.
Antoine chuckled as he picked up the nightgown. By the dim light, he made sure none of the day staff would find anything that reminded of their night time exploration. After taking a piece of cheese from the larder and then calmly made his way up the stairs. Gleefully anticipating Abigail and her naked bottom waiting to entertain him some more.
Tony shook his head to get rid of the vision. When had these dreams started? He enjoyed them tremendously, that wasn’t the problem. But what if they were indicating something that lay beneath the surface? Something he needed to address in his life?
Pushing it aside in his mind, he turned to the screen and pulled up the table schedule for that evening. A good thing the guests had no clue about what happened in the kitchen. Although with the number of cooking shows on TV, they might guess some of it.
He loved cooking, taking care of people. That’s why he couldn’t place this restlessness in his system. It seemed to have settled in much sooner here than it had in the last places he’d run. Maybe it was that he knew it would end quickly. He had promised a good friend he’d see this restaurant take off, and then he would leave. The next project would be all of himself. He still had some minor interests in a few other restaurants he’d purchased at first and then helped set up. He was tired of moving around. It might be his age that he considered settling down. He couldn’t live this nomad existence for the rest of his life, could he? He’d had plenty of friends who had tried, and it had broken them down in the end. They’d ended up with plenty of kitchens to cook in, but no home to return to. Bottles of wine, or something stronger to keep them company. That was not the life Tony wanted for himself. He’d seen good men and women go under and lose everything they had. Perhaps he wanted to bail out, or he was more aware of what was happening, and he wanted to put a stop to it before he was an old, bitter, and drunk chef.
He ran his hands through his dark curls, remembering how real the dream had felt. Abigail’s hand in his hair. Who was she?
“Tony.” It was Susan. “Jaime is on his way back. What are we going to do with him?”
“What do you think?” Tony asked. She, after all, had a much better grasp of how the apprentices were doing day-to-day. Tony sometimes cooked with them and provided some masterclasses, but they always seemed a bit squeamish about him. The celebrity chef, the boss.
“I don’t think he’s got what it takes,” Susan said honestly.
“Then we’ll have to let him go. I’ll do it.” It was something that Tony hated doing, but he was the Chef de Cuisine. The restaurant and the people in it were his responsibilities. It wouldn’t do to delegate difficult tasks.
“We can do it together,” Susan suggested smartly. She was well on her way of becoming head-chef herself and could use the practice.
“Excellent.”
Abby turned over in her bed and grabbed her phone. It was only 5 am., the day after Christmas. She’d had a solitary day in her workshop. Most of her days were solitary, apart from the one-off when she asked an apprentice from the contractor she’d hired to give her a hand. She didn’t mind being at the estate alone. For years she had a team to boss around and lead through the renovation.
The hotel she’d done before had had a strict deadline, and at some point, Abby had had to keep over fifty people on track. It had been quite a rush to get everything done up to standard, and she’d loved doing it.
This was different, though. As Abby lay on her back, she tried to remember her dream.
She knew she wasn’t the Abigail in her dreams, but gosh, did she feel like her. Antoine was a dream come true. How would she have loved to meet a man like that when she’d been younger. She might not have settled for a loveless marriage.
Her hand stroked her naked skin as she closed her eyes and tried to recall what had been happening.
The cold air swept across Abigail’s naked bum as she lay on the bed. Her feet were still on the floor. She was awaiting the punishment she’d earned by teasing her husband. He took his sweet time, she thought. The fire had died out ages ago. Since it had just been her in the bed, she’d not considered keeping it going. Her comfort wasn’t that important to her—a decision she regretted now. The normally so smooth sheets were sensitive to her nipples. Abigail was getting a bit cold. With her head on the cool sheets, she closed her eyes and listened. Waited, taking deep breaths.
Then she heard him come up the stairs, humming. Involuntarily she braced herself.
Antoine made her wait a little longer though, calmly taking off his shirt and trousers. Aware of her presence on the bed, but so far flat out ignoring her. From the corner of his eye, he saw her relax again, the sign of her complete submission. He always knew exactly when her surrender was played and when it was real. The tell was in the muscles of her neck and shoulders. Her arms spread out on the bed beside her, no longer keeping them close to her body.
“Well done, Abigail.” He said in a gentle tone.
Now naked, he walked up to her, putting his hands on her butt cheeks. He knew the secret to a successful spanking was massaging them first. Otherwise, she’d be badly bruised and wouldn’t be able to sit over the next few days.
Soon the first loud pang rang through the room. Abigail had been so taken in by the massage that she’d not prepared for the impact. She failed to hide her scream. It made Antoine grin. He loved it when she couldn’t control herself. He loved her so much. Smack two was harder. This time Abigail was prepared though. She took it with a deep breath, and a ‘thank you, Antoine’. He kept the spanking short. It was late, he was tired, and he just wanted to bury himself in her energy. But not before he’d fucked her into a frenzy. Knowing how fond she was of all kinds of play, he pushed his thumb to her back ring as he slid is rod up her wetness. She lay there, caught between him and the bed, taking him deep and feeling him stretch her up. Her hands clawed in the blankets, trying to push back.
His free hand clawed her hip. He needed more than this.
After he had felt her peak for the first time, he allowed her to lie on the bed. For a moment, he paused, to look at her hot and bothered naked body. “Please, Antoine.” She urged him, reaching out.
He appeared to be in a dark mood, and Abby was lost at how to handle that. She sat up on her knees and kissed him. Her hands were roaming freely over his body, teasing, challenging him, bringing him to his absolute breaking point.
Suddenly he pushed her to her side, and before she could think of what he was up to, he shot back inside of her. His hands grabbed her hip to prevent her from moving away.
Abigail loved it when he did that. She could feel him so deep this way. She lowered her hand, but he pushed it away. “Making you come is my job.” He said strictly. Usually, he was very much in favour of her touching herself. He fucked her mercilessly hard, with no regard whatsoever for her comfort, or desires. Abigail moaned in the pillow. His hands clawing in her thighs hurt her. It felt like he split her up. It was painful and yet beautiful. There was no surrender this time, as there was no fight. The pounding was so hard and so deep that Abigail came several times and was about to beg him to stop. She gritted her teeth, biting back her tears. It was too overwhelming for her, and she couldn’t get her body under control.
Antoine felt the struggle of her body to break away, but he kept her tightly locked where she was. Not until he heard her muffled scream in the pillow did he slow down somewhat. As he did, her entire body was shaking from the orgasms she couldn’t get under control. It was so beautiful, and the muscles of her cunt massaged him so hard that he couldn’t stop it anymore. He allowed the buzz in his head to take over and filled her up with his come as he let go of her hips and stroked her instead.
There were tears in his eyes when he fell next to her. Abigail wrapped her body around him, still shivering. He buried his fingers inside of her, knowing how much she liked the cool down after intense sex.
“I love you.” He whispered in her ear when he felt her warmth embracing him. Her head was on his shoulder. “I love you too, Antoine.” She barely had enough air to say it.
He looked down at her face and smiled.
“What’s wrong?” Abigail made some more room and looked at him earnestly. His fingers slid out of her.
“I bet my brother and his wife cannot have this much fun.”
Abigail thought about the older brother. The one who had done everything right. Married a young woman, a girl still, from a good family. Got her pregnant within three months after their marriage.
“Probably not. How come?”
“He was having a go at me again, that you’ve not… we’ve not…” Their romance had been overwhelming, and they had married unlikely fast. They’d never discussed having children. It was, of course, assumed they would, but Abigail didn’t have any from her previous marriage. It could very well be there wouldn’t be any now either. Antoine wouldn’t mind. He wasn’t sure about her, though. And he would hate for his family to have more reasons to have a go at Abigail. They were never very subtle in their thoughts about her.
Abigail kissed the corner of his mouth.
“I’m sorry.” She said. It wasn’t like her to be this timid. She felt guilty for messing up his relationship with his family. He wrapped his arms around her tightly. “Nothing to be sorry about. If it happens, it happens, if it doesn’t, I’ll still love you for the rest of eternity. I chose you. Not the potential offspring.”
“You need an heir, though.”
He kissed her temple. “Don’t worry about that. If it comes down to that, I think my brother intends on breeding enough heirs for the entire estate and then some.”
No comments:
Post a Comment