Seducing the Sexy Celebrity Chef Read online

  A bolt of hot pleasure raced through Holly’s core, swirling around the spot that housed her orgasms. She was so close she could taste it. She had everything she’d ever wanted, and still she wanted more!

  “Yes! Make me come, Chef.” Holly’s clit felt huge as she fucked his mouth, rubbing her wet pussy against his glistening lips. She bucked uncontrollably. It should have embarrassed her, the way her tits swung and her hips jerked, but she didn’t stop. “Yes, please! Yes!”

  She wasn’t in control of her body anymore. Her need for climax took the reigns, driving her up, up, and over. Grinding her pussy against the chef’s mouth, she released a string of words she didn’t know she knew. Holly was a dirty girl now. She was every bit as dirty as the chef. Maybe even dirtier.

  Holly’s legs trembled. Her arms did, too. Her clit throbbed so hot and hard she couldn’t bear any more pleasure. She couldn’t even hold herself upright. Collapsing on the table, she buried the Chef’s hands and he grunted in pain.

  “Oh god, I’m sorry!” Holly hiked her bum off the table so he could retrieve his hands. “Did I hurt you, Chef?”

  “I’m perfectly fine.” His lips were bright pink, as swollen as her pussy, and glistening with the same wetness. Her juices actually dripped from his chin as he rose from the floor. “Come with me. I want to show you something in the kitchen.”

  She hoped that “something” was his cock, and without thinking, she said so!

  Chef Burley smirked. “My, my, dear Holly. You are insatiable, aren’t you?”

  “Not usually,” she confessed. “It’s you, Chef. Seriously. There’s something about you that makes my pussy throb and my mouth want to work overtime.” She couldn’t believe she’d just said that.

  “You flatter me,” Chef Burley said, with sincere politeness. He grabbed a napkin from the next table and wiped his face.

  “It’s true. You make me horny as hell. I don’t usually say things like that, but there’s no other way to describe it.”

  He offered a frisky grin, and then winked. “I know the feeling.”

  “I bet you get horny every time you look in the mirror!”

  Chef Burley rolled his eyes. Taking her naked shoulders in his hands, he gave her a playful shake. “I’m talking about you, daft girl! Do you seriously think I travel around the world fucking strange women?”

  “Probably.” Holly looked away.

  “Holly!” There was a smile in his voice, but she could tell that he was serious. “My eyes are up here, Holly.”

  Her gaze shot from his crotch to his steel eyes, and her cheeks burned. “Sorry, Chef.”

  “I’m not one of those men, Holly.” He clutched her shoulders so tightly that Holly worried what was next. “I’m not like that.”

  “You just seem like you would be…”

  Chef Burley released his hold on her and backed away. Was he angry? He was so hard to read. Why couldn’t he scream at her, and swear, like he did on TV?

  When he just stared at her with those piercing blue eyes, Holly’s irritation peaked. “Well, what do you expect me to think when every woman in the world wants you in her bed?”

  “What do I care what every woman in the world wants?” Chef Burley shot back. “I’m sure every man in town wants to bed you, but I assume that doesn’t mean you’ve surrendered yourself to them all.”

  Holly’s heart beat faster. She tried to feel upset, but all she could hear was his compliment. The chef found her attractive, though she certainly wasn’t.

  “Or am I wrong?” Chef Burley muttered when Holly didn’t respond.

  He didn’t wait for an answer before storming into the kitchen. Had he just accused her of being a tramp? Her stomach dropped, but her legs found their prowess.

  Slipping from the table, Holly stormed across the dining room, totally unashamed even though she was mostly naked.

  Kicking open the door with her fierce heels, Holly howled, “How dare you?”

  The kitchen was huge, full of gleaming, brand new steel. Chef Burley leaned against a six-burner range like the cat that had eaten the canary. “How dare I what?”

  “Call me a slut,” Holly shot back. “I don’t sleep around. That, out there? That was the first time I’ve been with a man in… well, I don’t need to tell you how long, but… it’s been a while, okay? I’m not a slut.”

  “Neither am I,” the chef replied, with a simple shrug.

  That wasn’t at all the response Holly had expected. She thought he’d yell and scream and start smashing dishes. But he’d said his piece, and he’d made his point. Now, he looked at her so disarmingly she hardly knew what to say.

  Stepping forward, Holly placed her small purse on the stainless steel island. She unzipped it slowly, feeling his gaze warming her fingers as she pulled out a condom. “I don’t know why I brought this. I really didn’t think we’d… you know…”

  “But you hoped?”

  “Well, obviously.” Holly bit her lip. She couldn’t look at him as she slid the condom packet across the gleaming steel surface.

  He took it from her, touching his fingers to hers, and she felt strange vibrations flowing through her hand.

  “Holly?”

  She looked into his face, and her pussy pulsed like it had its own heartbeat. He was sooo handsome…

  “What’s the most important component of a relationship?”

  “Trust,” she replied. She didn’t even have to think about it.

  “Trust,” he said, nodding. “Come here, my dear.”

  “Where?” she asked, though the answer was obvious.

  “Right here. Come close.”

  She walked around the island, pulling her skirt down, which was really rather silly when her breasts were still bare. She let him curl his big body around hers. Pressing his chest against her back, he pushed her hips forward until they met the oven door. Her heart raged and her pussy pulsed as he breathed in her ear.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked.

  She swallowed hard. “I… I… guess so?”

  Grasping her wrist, he held her open hand firmly over one of the spider burners. “Do you trust me?”

  Holly’s throat ran dry. “What are you doing?”

  “You’ve no reason to trust me. We’ve only just met.”

  She didn’t struggle, because she wasn’t sure how he’d react. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  “I won’t,” he said. “You have my word. But that’s the issue, Holly—do you trust my word?”

  Holly gazed at her hand. It wasn’t shaking, and that surprised her. “I do trust you. I don’t know why. You’re right—I have no reason to. We’ve only just met.”

  Chef Burley held her wrist firmly, yes, but there was nothing preventing her from pulling away, or at least trying. She didn’t struggle against him. She didn’t want to… until his other hand made a play for the knob.

  Holly tried to yank her hand away, but the chef’s grip tightened around her wrist. He pressed her palm down until it met cold black metal. Her heart beat a mile a minute.

  “You’ve no cause to trust me,” he said as he turned the stove on.

  Clamping her eyes shut, Holly listened with horror for the hiss of gas, the click of ignition, and the whoosh of a blue flame. She prepared herself to be burned.

  But nothing happened. No hiss, no click, no whoosh. Only Chef Burley’s big hand around her small wrist as her palm sweated against the cold metal.

  “The gas line won’t be hooked up until next week.” His breath scorched her ear. He let go of her wrist. “No chance the fire would light.”

  “I should have trusted you,” she said, her throat dry as cotton.

  “No, Holly. People think they know me because they’ve seen me on television. You don’t know me—not yet. Trust must be earned. It takes time.”

  “You’re right.” And, because he was right, a seed of doubt sprouted in Holly’s mind. “Do you trust me?”

  His breath came on hot and slow. When she pressed back ag
ainst him she felt his erection like a steel rod against her backside. If it wasn’t for the huge stainless steel appliance in front of her, she’d have fallen to the ground for sure. She felt dizzy with lust as his hands rode her sides.

  Finding Holly’s breasts and crushing them together, Chef Burley pressed hot kisses into her neck. His cock rode slowly up her skirt, and she wished to god she could feel his hugeness inside her pussy. She was so wet for him. She wanted him now.

  “Fuck me,” she begged. “God, I need it.”

  “So do I, Holly.” His voice sounded tortured by lust.

  “Open your shirt.” She wanted to feel his hard chest against her back while he fucked her. She saw him shirtless on TV once, and it turned her on so powerfully that she almost went crazy.

  She watched over her shoulder as Chef Burley tore out of his white chef’s jacket. Under that, he wore a white T-shirt. He ripped that off, too. His chest was clean, hairless, and every bit as chiseled as his jaw. Holly tried to speak, but she couldn’t. Her body was just a pulsing pool of lust. Arousal had taken over. She was speechless.

  Holly licked her lips as Chef Burley shed his pants. He had on dark blue jockeys, but he took those off, too. His cock sprang toward her, spanking her ass. She couldn’t wait to feel his hot cock against her skin. She wanted it to burn her, brand her, so she would never forget this day.

  Though, how could she possibly forget? This wasn’t just some guy—this was the notorious Chef Burley. He was a celebrity and he wanted her!

  Tearing open the condom packet, Chef Burley fitted the latex around his dick. Holly couldn’t stop watching. The condom hugged his cock tight, and she wondered if she should have bought a larger variety.

  “My god, the size of that thing!” Holly pulled up her skirt. “It’ll never fit. Never in a million years.”

  “But I gather you’re willing to give it a go.” Chef Burley eyed her thong as she pushed it down her thighs.

  “Well, sure.” Holly winked over her shoulder. “Never know unless you try.”

  Chef Burley’s sheathed cock kissed her ass cheek while he took hold of her wrists. She had to admit, she liked the way he gripped her and pressed her body down on the range. His chest pushed against her back, driving her down until the mean metal burners cradled her breasts.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What am I doing?” Chef Burley teased her with laughter. “Have you never made love in a kitchen?”

  “Not like this!” Holly gasped as the chef’s celebrity cock tickled her pussy lips. “Not ever, actually. That’s the honest truth.”

  “Ah, so this will be a first for you?” The chef slapped her with his erection, igniting sparks in her clit. “First time in a kitchen?”

  “Yeah.” Holly struggled to laugh. Everything seemed dead serious when she was this aroused, like the world might crumble at her feet. “Please, no more teasing. You’re killing me.”

  “I hardly think so.” He traced his cockhead up her sopping pussy, navigating the folds of her lips, ending squarely on her asshole. When she clenched, he laughed.

  “Oh god.”

  “Don’t panic.” Chef Burley retreated to her pussy. “I’m only teasing you.”

  “I can’t take it.” Holly set her cheek against the range. The dark metal felt cool as it pressed into her blazing skin. Cool, and rough. “Fuck me. Please just fuck me. I’ve wanted you for ages.”

  “Have you?” His cockhead found her wetness, filling it up, mushrooming inside. “Your pussy’s certainly ready for me.”

  Holly opened her legs a little wider, feeling her thong digging into her thighs. “My pussy’s always ready for you, Chef.”

  “Always?” He slid his cock deeper into her cunt.

  He was huge, but she was ready. “Always.”

  Chef Burley lunged forward, bottoming out in her pussy, driving her breasts deeper into the spider burners. It was a little like medieval torture, as far as Holly was concerned. But in a good way.

  “So, if I happened to be passing by the pretty little house I imagine you living in—” Chef Burley pulled back and then thrust forward, burying himself balls-deep in her cunt. “—when you come to the door, your pussy will be wet and ready for me?”

  “My pussy will smell you coming, Chef.” Holly heaved into the saddle of his hips, giving herself completely. “Every time you think about me, my pussy will tingle, my clit will throb, and I’ll know you want to fuck me as bad as I want to fuck you.”

  “Mmm…” He gripped her hips and drove into her wetness. “I can’t believe how wet you are.”

  “After eating my pussy, you still can’t believe it?” Holly closed her eyes and pictured Chef Burley’s chin dripping with juice. That image turned her on so intensely her pussy clamped down on his dick. “Oh god!”

  “What are you doing to me, Holly?” Chef Burley fell against her back, his slick chest coating her skin with a sweet smear of sweat. “Fuck, I can’t even think!”

  As his ferocious fucking crushed her against the spider burners, Holly bore his weight gladly. He covered every inch of her skin, like a sauce. His breath was hot on her ear as he panted and moaned. Holly’s noises were higher-pitched, but equally uncontrolled.

  “Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!”

  With the racket they were making, she wouldn’t be surprised if someone burst into the restaurant to make sure she wasn’t being murdered.

  “I want you to come, Holly.”

  “I will,” she cried, hugging his erection with her tight pussy muscles. “God, I’m gonna come so hard. I’m gonna come all over your cock!”

  “Do it.”

  He fucked her so rapidly she had to shield her head with her hands. His force was driving her against the range. Her tits would definitely be bruised from the spider burners, but that was fine. No one else would see them, and they’d remind her of the chef.

  “Come for me, Holly.”

  “You first.” She groaned as he pounded her cunt. “God, I want to see it.”

  Her flesh throbbed as he fucked her, and she knew she couldn’t hold back. Some women said it was impossible to come just from a good fuck, but Holly knew the truth: everyone was different. She loved a good clit massage, and she’d had that earlier when the chef ate her pussy, but on rare occasions, when the fucking was intense and the cock was nice and huge, she could come without getting her clit stroked at all.

  “Fuck!” Holly tightened every muscle in her body. Her head spun like a top. “You bastard! God, you’re making me come! You’re making me come so fucking hard!”

  Like she needed to tell him! It was pretty obvious from the way her pussy clamped on his dick, from the way her thighs shook and her fingers clenched. She arched and screamed, milking his cock, trying to gauge from his appeals whether he was coming.

  “I want to see!” she cried as he pressed harder against her backside. “Let me see!”

  She didn’t really expect him to pull out, but he did, so fast her pussy ached. She could never get enough.

  Tearing off his condom, Chef Burley asked, “Is this want you want?”

  His big hand encircled his shaft tightly. Leaning back against the stainless steel island, he jerked himself off so hard Holly’s pussy clenched just watching him. His fist strangled his cock, gliding its length in raw, stilted motions.

  A gush of saliva filled Holly’s mouth. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be drooling all over him. That’s when the gift baskets at the far end of the island caught her eye. They must have been presents from well-wishers, congratulating the chef on his new book, or his new restaurant. Holly didn’t take the time to read the cards. She just pulled out a bottle of olive oil, popped the cork, and poured it down Chef Burley’s perfect chest.

  “Holly!” the chef cried, laughing. “Do you know how much a bottle of that oil runs?”

  “I have absolutely no idea.” She set it down and ran her hands along his front, feeling every ridge of his belly, feeling the pink points of his har
d nipples.

  “Well over a hundred dollars, I’d say.”

  Holly’s jaw dropped as the oil made its way to Chef Burley’s pubic hair. “Then I’d better not waste any!”

  Throwing herself at the chef, Holly licked him all over. The olive oil had a light virgin taste and texture. She’d never had anything like it—you could drink the stuff like wine!

  Falling to her knees, Holly wrapped her oily hands around Chef Burley’s expanding cock. They cradled his dick as she inched forward, taking just his tip inside her mouth.