Page 31 of Monster Diner

He put the car in drive and wrenched it onto the highway before placing his burning palm on her thigh. He sped home, and the drive back was a blur of his fingers brushing against her panties and autumn leaves. They pulled into the driveway with a screech. The car was barely in park before he was throwing the door open, and neither of them could get into the house fast enough. As soon as they were inside, he kissed her. Hands tangled in her hair, he backed her against the fridge, hot mouth against hers, attempting to devour her. And she wanted him to consume her. As she ran her hands along the top of his head, she wanted to melt into him until they were one.

He didn’t stop kissing her until her stomach rumbled.

“I’ll order takeout,” he said.

“Sounds good,” she said a little breathlessly, bracing against the fridge.

Then he picked her up and sat her on the kitchen counter, and she yelped.

“Don’t move,” he told her.

He stood between her legs, which she’d wrapped around his torso, grinding herself against his erection, as he ordered Chinese food for the two of them. She played with the buttons on his shirt, kissing his collarbone as he barely kept the groan from his voice. She loved teasing him. The way his fingers flexed against her thighs, tightening, pulling her closer as he fought to keep control.

When he finished his call, he looked at her with half-lidded eyes.

“You must be starving if you’re trying to eat me,” he cooed.

“Starved.” She smirked at him.

“Well, so am I.” He lifted her off the counter and then, with one arm, swept the kitchen table clear. A saltshaker and napkin holder clattered to the ground. It sent a thrill through her. She would never get used to the way he could casually toss her around. It was incredibly erotic.

He slid one large teal hand up her thigh. His rough palm against her smooth skin was addictive, the perfect amount of friction.

“I want you to take it all off this time,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I want to see all of you.”

She hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her body, or that she feared others seeing it. She was proud of her soft belly, her stretch marks. But bearing it all to him felt incredibly intimate. She bit her lip as his hands ran along her shoulders, toying with the hem of her cap sleeves.

“I want to ravish every inch of you,” he said, with a hunger in his gaze that she felt reflected in her own heart.

That was enough to tip her over the edge, and she nodded. “Do it.”

She sat up on the edge of the table, legs dangling, and pulled off her dress one shoulder at a time before reaching behind to undo her zipper. The front of her dress fell down and revealed her bra. Victor kissed each shoulder and then cupped her breasts reverently before unhooking her bra and tossing it aside.

Then, when her breasts were exposed, he swirled his tongue on each nipple until they were hard peaks. Like he was eating his favorite ice cream. No one had ever done this before. Most of her exes had made a half-hearted attempt at foreplay before they were thrusting into her. Victor took his time, as he’d promised, and she could get addicted to this sort of treatment.

She arched into him as he lifted her up to slide her dress off her hips, and she was wearing nothing but her panties.

“Victor!” she gasped. He kissed down her stomach, licking her belly button, hands grasping her hips before spreading her thighs wide, and taking a seat at the table as if he were sitting down for a meal.

“I’m famished.” He groaned against her inner thigh, lightly biting her. She wriggled, trying to inch closer to his hot mouth as he kissed and nibbled his way up to her pussy.

She felt worshiped and adored, and it scared her for a moment. Who was she to deserve this? She’d only screw it up.

Then he was slowly rolling down her panties, yanking them off her, and tossing them aside, and she forgot everything but the feeling of his nose grazing her clit before he licked her once with a broad tongue. She jerked at the sensation, lurching upward, but his hands on her waist kept her pinned to the table. It was too much, too good. She wanted him to both speed up and slow down, to take forever and also hurry up and make her come already. She was a tangled mess of emotions.

“Don’t make me rush through my meal,” he said before slowly licking her clit, tongue swirling in circles as he inserted a single finger into her, thrusting in rhythm with his tongue. Her orgasm crested slowly as he brought her to the edge and then inserted a second finger, building the pressure, and she remained immobilized by his firm grip on her hips. It was grounding her, letting her feel the sensations without losing herself.

“Please, Victor,” she begged. She was on the verge of coming, but each time he sensed her tense, he pulled away.

“Are you ready to get fucked by my ribbed cock?” he asked.

“Yes. I need it,” she panted.

He undid his pants, exposing his ridged member, dripping with pre-cum, and held it against her entrance. He dragged the head along her clit, then down before thrusting into her. Her back arched. The sensation was intense, stretching her wide. She loved the way it felt to be filled by him, and no man’s cock would ever compare after him.

He thrust into her, hitting the deepest parts of her, and she writhed, the feeling was too much, too good. She was near out of her mind. Then Victor pinned her hands above her head, anchoring her in place.

“Hold still like a good girl while I finish my meal.”