peaches-and-cherries

[peaches-and-cherries]

As she looked up, her eyes met his. There was an unspoken tension, a moment of recognition that sent a ripple through her composed demeanor. Michael was the one next in line. His presence felt heavier than the others before him, carrying something unsaid between them.

His eyes were like emeralds set against his porcelain skin, as he flashed her a devilish grin, "What's the most delicious thing you have here?" His voice was like honey drizzled over crème brûlée - soft yet commanding.

"Oh...oh!" A flush crept up her neck, her heart pounding in her chest as she stumbled over words, trying to recommend something worthy enough for him. "I... umm... how about the Tiramisu? It's light... airy... decadent." Each word came out breathless, almost desperate.

He nodded approvingly, "Perfect. And could I get a glass of iced water too?" His request was more like a demand, laced with such power that sent shivers down her spine.

The vibrator buzzed again, sending new waves of pleasure through her body, making her shudder ever so slightly.

Her breath came out in short gasps as she tried to steady herself amidst the chaos around her. Her hands trembled slightly while slicing the tiramisu, but no one seemed to notice under the dim light of the bakery. This is so hot... I could jump on him right now, if it weren't for all these people here.

She handed over Michael's order, his eyes sparkling with mischief under those thick lashes. He took the plate without breaking eye contact, his fingers brushing against hers sending another wave of pleasure coursing through her body.

"This one's for you," he said, pushing the glass of iced water towards her. "You look like you need it."

As the vibrator buzzed again, sending shivers down her spine, she clutched onto the counter for support.

The hum between her thighs had become relentless, each pulse winding her tighter.

“I hope you enjoy your day, darling.” His words were soft, but the wicked promise in them was unmistakable. Then, just as smoothly as he arrived, he walked away, leaving her standing there, breathless and flushed.

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[peaches-and-cherries]

I kissed her face but she felt it between her legs

[peaches-and-cherries]

In a world where pastries and passion collide, chef Emily is hell-bent on realizing her bakery dreams. But as the grand opening approaches, her controling husband reveals a seductive game of power, using a discreet device to enrapture her with pleasure and agonizing denial.

Amidst the irresistible treats and burning tension, she is brought to the verge of climaxing multiple times but is denied the sweet release she is craving until the very last customer leaves the bakery.

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[peaches-and-cherries]

Michael exhaled a chuckle, the sound low and knowing. “You and your baking obsessions,” he murmured, stepping closer. The space between them dissolved, the air growing thicker and more charged. His hand slid to her waist, fingers pressing just enough to make her breath hitch. “Can’t you rest for one night?”

She shivered, not from the chill outside but from the slow, deliberate way he pulled her against him. Her pulse thrummed in her throat as she tilted her chin up, her blue eyes meeting his in challenge.

“I’ll try.”

His grip tightened, just for a second. Approval. Control. A reminder. “Good,” he said, his voice edged with something darker. “Because tomorrow is a big day.”

Emily swallowed, heat curling in her belly—not just from the ovens. She knew what he meant. The bakery opening, yes. But also… them. Their rules. The way she kept breaking them.

A sharp beep cut through the tension, the oven’s timer demanding attention. She jumped, pulse hammering, but Michael didn’t let her go. His breath was warm against her ear as he murmured, “Looks like that’s your cue.”

She barely had time to respond before he lifted her effortlessly, her world tilting as he carried her toward the bedroom.

Emily gasped, then giggled—soft, breathless, teasing. “What about my croissants?”

Michael smirked against her skin. “They’ll be fine.”

But her? Oh, she wouldn’t be getting any rest tonight.

Michael laid her down gently, his hands still holding her close. She could feel the heat radiating off him. They kissed passionately, their lips meeting like two magnets drawn together by an unseen force. His tongue slipped between her parted lips, exploring her soft tongue, each movement deliberate, teasing. His fingers traced down her sides, sending shivers across her skin, before making their way down towards her already wet and needy pussy, his touch both possessive and restrained. Emily arched into him, her own hands seeking him out, desperate to close the space between them.

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