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I nearly laugh at the idea of anyone controlling Peyton. Outside of the bedroom, she’s a force of her own. Strong-willed. Determined. But that’s about as much as I know of her. Hell, I don’t even know her favorite color. I’ve known her brother for years, but her? I feel like I’ve wasted months of getting to know everything I can about her and I know I said for the weekend only, but who the hell am I kidding? When Monday rolls around, it’s not like my dick will switch off.
The smell of freshly baked goods drifts up from the kitchen. I’m not the only one who worked up an appetite, I see. I slide on a pair of lounge pants before I make my way downstairs.
“Good morning.” From the counter, Peyton flashes me her heart-stopping grin over the edge of her shoulder. “It’s raining out, and I needed an activity. I’m a stress baker, which is going to make you a very happy man this weekend.”
Her bubbly explanations make me smile. She is nervous when she shouldn’t be. I lean against the counter, propping an elbow on the edge, and watch her work.
A large apron is covering her top half, but I can spot the straps of what I think is a tank top, panties peek out at me as she turns toward the oven and...high heels? Odd combo but you won’t hear me complaining. She looks sweet and sinful with her long hair twisted up in a messy knot at the top of her head. Several strands have fallen, and she has smudges of flour on both cheeks.
I point to the pan she just slid into the oven. “Cinnamon buns are my ultimate weakness. Hand to God, you can make me do anything in the world with one of these in your hands.”
Her face lights up. “Now that I’m armed with dangerous information, I shall guard it with my life.”
I point to her feet. “I like your pick of footwear.” I come up behind her, winding my hands around her waist. “But I missed you in my bed.” I place light kisses along her shoulder.
She shifts her weight into me, and I love the feel of her body pressed against mine. I could stay like this forever. Leave the flashing lights of the stage behind and just...be. With her.
She peeks up at me through her lashes. “I needed some height for these countertops. Everyone in your family must have been very tall. I couldn’t reach anything so I grabbed these for a minute since you decided to sleep in.”
“I like how you look in them. You should wear them more often.”
I can feel her heart start to race and her breath hitch. My cock is already rock solid and pressing into the crease of her ass.
I rock my hips, letting her feel the full length of my shaft tease her tight little ass. “Is that fresh icing for the rolls?”
“It is,” she answers and I smile out how shaky her words sound. I like affecting her like this. Knowing she wants me as badly as I want her.
“Want a taste?”
Her hands go to the edge of the counter. She angles a look at me over her shoulder and wiggles her ass, pressing back. Those pretty eyes are wide and filled with lust.
Oh, the nanny wants to play, does she?
I anchor my hands on either hip, sink my thumbs into the band of her pants and slide them down. I see the way the strip between her legs is wet, and I groan with satisfaction. I peel away the silky fabric an inch at a time, replacing the material with my palm the second her panties are around her feet.
“I do have a sweet tooth this morning.” I turn her around, pick her up, and set her on the counter. The height difference between us is much less now. “But first, how about we make you more comfortable?” I roll up her tank top and pull it over her head.
The apron is narrow and Peyton’s creamy breasts with their hard tips aren’t even remotely covered. They turn a pretty dark, rosy pink and harden further under my gaze.
She looks down and murmurs, “We might as well get rid of this too. It’s hardly doing the job, don’t you think?” She reaches for the strings and plucks at them.
“Leave it on, sweetheart. It’s working perfectly for me.” I reach into her bowl of frosting and paint one of her nipples a creamy white with my finger. Then I cup her breast, stroking the soft skin underneath.
Peyton’s sharp intake of breath pleases me.
She has soft, natural breasts that I love fondling.
“Definitely. Fuck yes. The apron stays on,” I murmur.
“Yes, Sir.”
Her words go straight to my cock.
I lean forward, dragging the pad of my tongue over the frosted nipple, licking slowly, before sucking the hard bud between my lips. She moans, tilting her head back, offering more of herself to me.
“That’s a good girl,” I murmur. “This is now my favorite way to enjoy frosting.” I cover her little bud with my lips and pull it inside my mouth, sucking hard.
Peyton lets out an appreciative, “Oh, fuck yes.”
