ZADE

"Not hungry?" I questioned.

Anastasia hasn’t touched her food since we were served, and she hasn’t said any other word since... her behavior in the car.

I loosened my tie a little, the knot getting too tight. I’m in a position where I can’t control myself, and my little kitten will be paying that price.

"Eat," I said the words with more authority than I intended. The grip on my restraints was blurred already.

I needed her to get something in her stomach first because I knew she had done a poor job lately when it came to that.

I waited... anticipating my feisty kitten to crucify me with her words or glare so hard I would be convinced she wanted to stab me.

However, she obeyed like a good girl and grabbed the silverware. She ate little bits, doing her best not to make eye contact as though it was something she couldn’t afford.

That alone was just the tip of the iceberg in this frustrating situation because every inch of her has been a fucking temptation ever since I laid eyes on her in that dress.

I’ve never wanted to rip through a fabric so fucking fast before. Even now, I’m teetering on the edge of my so-called self-control.

It had all been jumbled ever since I brought her to that boutique. I did that on purpose to confirm what I knew since the hunt, and I was right, as well as Dr. Keller.

Anastasia was starting to remember.

I’m not exactly sure how I felt about that, but that was something to think about later because I couldn’t get my thoughts straight at the moment.

I’ve always kept a clear head, even when consuming things that could knock me out. But this was something that pushed me toward the brink of insanity bit by bit.

My finger tapped against the table as if ticking toward a countdown. The waiter came to her table, popped open the bottle of wine, and filled our glass before leaving.

I had rented the whole restaurant for the night, and Ricky, the chef and owner, also an old friend, was generous enough to give us the best for the evening.

Candle lights, calla lilies, and soft music playing in the background.

I lived for the look on Anastasia’s face when she saw the whole setting. I knew for a fact she wasn’t expecting anything romantic, and neither was I.

Ricky outdid himself as always.

I tracked Anastasia’s every move as I lifted my wineglass for a sip. The taste was nonexistent to me, even though it was one of the most expensive wines here. I hadn’t touched my food either because I wasn’t starving... for food.

I focused too much on Anastasia’s mouth, especially when they parted, but I don’t picture the fork going in, but my cock.

The sudden twitch in my pants got me more uncomfortable; the urge to undo my belt so that I could breathe down there had never been more cumbersome.

My throat bobbed as her mouth wrapped around the fork, and then her eyes locked with mine. Wild desire overtook her eyes, and she wasn’t hiding it. She hadn’t been doing much hiding ever since the boutique.

She licked her lips, and that alone was my undoing.

"Done?" I asked, keeping my voice as calm as possible.

At the sound of my voice, she flinched. Maybe I wasn’t as calm as I thought.

"Yes," she replied, so fucking soft that I was eager to transform that angelic voice of hers into moans.

"Then it’s my turn. I’m starving."

She blinked, perplexity behind those eyes.

I pushed to my feet, and she followed suit like we were both tethered to make every move together.

Knowing where this would lead because Anastasia certainly wasn’t using her brain cells at the moment, I said. "Stay right there and don’t move. I wanna eat and not punish."

I was already close, and Anastasia listened, eyes on me like the rest of the world was out of touch as if I was the only thing in her line of vision, and her neck tilted back just to maintain eye contact.

Good girl.

I loosened my tie, taking it off completely as I tossed it somewhere, and proceeded to push the contents on the table that got in the way.

She gasped as the porcelain plates and wineglass shattered against the floor.

I seized her waist, her body meshing with mine like the perfect puzzle piece. I picked her up and placed her on the table.

I glided my hand beneath her dress, taking hold of her panties.

"Pick a safe word. I’ll allow only that and nothing else." I ripped off her panties with a simple tug.

"Blue!" she rasped, startled.

Just as I thought.

"Spread your legs."

She did. She fucking did. Parting those sumptuous-looking thighs for me.

"Such a good kitten," I mumbled, sitting on the chair, a gasp fleeing from her as I yanked her close.

"Bon appétit," I murmured before I buried my face in her pussy.

I took the first taste of her, my tongue dragging up her clit.

Fuck me.

She tasted just like what I wanted for dinner. Soaked pussy.

Anastasia was anything but quiet, and I didn’t want her to be; I wanted everyone to know her husband was having his dinner.

The hairs at the back of my neck stood when her hands slipped into my hair with ease, tangling between her fingers before grabbing for support as my tongue fucked her.

I teased her clit, tightening and coating my tongue nonstop. She was so fucking wet that even I was surprised by the amount of juice she was nourishing me with.

I have a full plate. I’ll make certain that I don’t disappoint the chef.

I pressed kisses on her pussy, worshipping this out-of-this-world pussy that listened only to me. It has always had, and it wasn’t stopping anytime soon.

Anastasia called my name louder, screaming it into the air as I had my fill. I teased her clit more before spreading my mouth wide and sucked.

"Oh... god!"