Chapter 100 Little Cake
Bianca took a breath and tried to take him deeper, but she'd barely made it halfway before her throat rebelled and she had to pull back, gagging. She had no idea how her pussy managed to take all of him when her mouth couldn't even get close.
She tried again, determined, but it was too much. Fuck it. She gave up on deepthroating and focused on what she could handle, working the head of his cock like a lollipop, her tongue swirling and her lips sealed tight around him.
Her technique was sloppy, inexperienced. Every so often her teeth scraped against the sensitive skin, making him hiss. But that edge of pain mixed with pleasure did something to Terrence. His head fell back against the tile, and his fingers tightened in her hair, not quite rough but getting there.
She'd never seen him lose control like this. Even when he was buried inside her, pounding her into the mattress, he kept that iron composure. Just heavy breathing, maybe a grunt. But now? Now he was coming apart.
A wicked thrill shot through her. She liked this. Liked watching him unravel because of her, liked having this power over him. She doubled down, sucking harder, her hand working what her mouth couldn't reach.
God, this was hot.
Then her teeth caught the base of his shaft and his cock jerked violently in her mouth, the head slamming against the back of her throat and her palate. She tried to pull off, panicking, but Terrence's hand clamped down on the back of her head, holding her in place.
The wet heat of her mouth was nothing like her pussy. He couldn't help it. His hips stuttered forward, shallow thrusts that he tried to keep gentle because he didn't want to hurt her, didn't want to make her gag again. But holding back was torture.
Finally he pulled out. A string of saliva connected her swollen lips to the head of his cock, obscene and beautiful. His shaft twitched, visibly throbbing, and he looked like he might come just from the sight of her.
Bianca tilted her head, confused, her lips parted and glistening.
Terrence grabbed her ass with both hands and squeezed hard enough to bruise, trying to get a grip on himself. When he finally spoke, his voice was wrecked. He slid one hand up to her throat, not squeezing, just holding her there as he kissed her hard.
She tasted like him. The musk and salt were obvious on her tongue, but he didn't give a damn. He licked into her mouth, sucking on her tongue, biting her bottom lip, and the want inside him crested into something desperate.
The shower had been running the whole time. Water pooled in the small of her back as he turned her around and pushed her hands flat against the tile. She barely had time to brace herself before he slammed into her from behind, and the stretch and fullness punched a satisfied moan out of her.
This wasn't like their usual pace. She'd worked him up too much, pushed him too far. Every thrust was brutal, like he wanted to split her open on his cock. He pulled almost all the way out and then drove back in, hitting the deepest part of her, over and over, relentless.
Bianca fell apart fast.
The wet tile was slippery under her palms. Her arms started shaking, unable to hold her weight, and her upper body slid down until her cheek pressed against the cold wall. She still couldn't stay upright. It felt like she was hanging off his cock, like that was the only thing keeping her from collapsing completely.
The fear of falling mixed with the pleasure, and it was too much. Her head tipped back and she cried out, sharp and helpless.
That sound broke him. He buried himself as deep as he could go and came hard, flooding her with heat.
The bedroom was dark except for the small lamp on the nightstand. Bianca curled into Terrence's chest, exhausted and boneless. She yawned and burrowed closer, her cheek against his ribs.
"Come make a cake with me tomorrow," she mumbled, forcing her eyes open to look up at him.
Terrence's expression softened. He ran his fingers through her hair. "Alright."
The afternoon sunlight poured through the windows of the bakery, making everything feel warm and golden.
Bianca tugged Terrence by the wrist toward the workstation. He looked completely out of place in his tailored black suit, sleeves rolled precisely to his forearms, surrounded by pastel aprons and the smell of vanilla and butter.
They both tied on aprons and sat at the wooden table like obedient students waiting for instructions.
With someone guiding them through each step, it wasn't too hard. Actually, it was kind of fun.
When Bianca sifted the flour, she moved too fast and a cloud of white powder puffed up into the air, landing perfectly on the bridge of Terrence's nose.
He froze. His lashes lowered as he stared down at the table, and all that boardroom intimidation just evaporated. He didn't even move to wipe it off.
Bianca bit her lip, her shoulders shaking as she tried not to laugh. Then she gave up and collapsed against his chest, getting flour all over herself too.
"Mr. Anderson," she gasped, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes, "you look like a polar bear caught raiding the pantry. It's adorable."
Terrence looked down at her, at the way her face scrunched up with laughter, and his hand hovered over her head for a moment before he just patted her back lightly.
His voice was flat, but there was something indulgent underneath it. "Keep laughing and you'll be covered in flour too. Then we'll see if you're still smiling."
Bianca's eyes went wide. She puffed out her cheeks in mock outrage and sat up. "I won't cry!"
Terrence raised an eyebrow and pointed at his flour-dusted face. "So this just appeared out of nowhere?"
Bianca's eyes darted away. Then, quick as anything, she scooped up another handful of flour and smeared it across his cheek.
"Troublemaker."
After they stopped messing around, they actually focused on the cake.
Bianca went up on her toes to reach a mold on the top shelf. Her fingertips barely grazed the edge. She bounced twice, stretching as far as she could, but it was no use.
Then Terrence was behind her. The scent of cedarwood and expensive cologne wrapped around her as his arm reached over her head and plucked the mold off the shelf with ease. His broad shoulders caged her in, his chest pressed against her back, and the heat of him seeped through her clothes.
Bianca's lashes lowered. Her ears burned.
His voice rumbled low near her ear. "You could've just asked me."
His breath was warm against the shell of her ear, and she shivered.
Before she could respond, something cool brushed her earlobe. She flinched, her heart skipping. It was just his fingers, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Your hair was in your face."
Bianca's pupils dilated. Her whole face flushed pink. She pushed him away gently, her voice losing all its bite. "Okay, okay."
The soft, almost whiny tone made something tighten in his chest.
Once the cake layers were baked and cooled, Bianca used chocolate sauce to draw two little stick figures on the frosting. One in a suit with a frown, one with a bun and a big smile. Between them, she drew a tiny heart.
She stepped back, admiring her work, and clapped her hands together.
Then she scooped up a spoonful and held it up to Terrence's mouth, her voice sweet. "Try it. Give me your honest opinion."
Terrence didn't open his mouth. Instead, he wrapped his hand around her wrist.
He leaned down and ate the bite of cake off the spoon while holding her gaze, and his tongue flicked against her fingertip, just for a second.
The jolt that went through Bianca was electric. Her hand jerked and she almost dropped the spoon.
Terrence licked his lips slowly, his dark eyes fixed on her, his thumb stroking the inside of her wrist.
His voice dropped, rough and deliberate. "The cake's good. Sweet." He leaned in close, his mouth nearly brushing her ear. "But I think you taste better.