Glazed by Ranae Rose

was frying a batch of donuts and whipping up a glaze. “Strawberry?” she asked, leaning over the bowl to survey its pink contents.
     
    He grinned at her. “Your favorite, right?”
     
    “I thought it was your favorite,” she replied, recalling the way he’d kissed a smudge of it off her mouth after they’d barely met, and then later compared the color of her nipples to the rosy frosting.
     
    “It is, but only when it’s served right.” He dipped a spoon into the bowl and withdrew it, letting it drip. As she watched he ran a finger over its edge, thoroughly coating the tip in frosting. Before she knew it he was tracing the edge of her lip with it, and then kissing it away.
     
    “Isn’t this violating some sort of health code?” she gasped when he’d kissed her clean.
     
    “How about we keep this batch for our own personal use?” he said, waving toward the bowl with the spoon.
     
    “All that? How would we use it?”
     
    He slid a hand under her re-worn black dress in answer, raising it past her hips, midriff and breasts, which were cradled by the black-lace bra she’d worn to his condo the night before. Her nipples tightened when he tucked his fingertips inside the edge of one cup, pulling the thin material down to free one. The glaze was as cool as most of its ingredients, which had come directly from the refrigerator. Her nipple hardened into a tiny bud beneath it, gleaming a vivid pink. She gasped when he lowered his mouth onto it, and her whole breast tingled as he sucked it away.
     
    “I could do this for hours,” he said, eyeing the bowl full of glaze.
     
    Suddenly, using all of it didn’t seem so farfetched. “Do it then,” she gasped.
     
    He coated a fingertip generously with the strawberry glaze and spread it slowly around the edge of her areola, apparently taking almost as much pleasure in the application as he had in the removal. By the time he bent to lick it away her nipple was aching for the touch of his mouth and her pussy was dampening.
     
    A shiver of anticipation raced up her spine when he knelt and tucked his fingers into her panties, pulling the dark lace down. The cool icing met her hot flesh as he massaged it over her clit. When his warm breath hit her skin, her legs quivered. He put his hands on her hips and steadied her as he pressed his tongue between her thighs, slowly licking away the glaze. She trembled, glad he was supporting her. Her clit throbbed against his tongue, and when he gently sucked the last of the sweet pink cream off of it she moaned. When he echoed her, she knew she was about to come.
     
    The silvery sound of a ringing bell interrupted. He jerked, just barely, in surprise. The motion sent a jolt through her core and all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes. He was still holding her by her hips, and even as her heart leapt in alarm, she couldn’t stop her body’s inevitable response. She stifled another moan as he tightened his hold and gave her rigid nub one last, slow tongue-stroke, as if he were reluctant to stop at all. Her entire middle was a knot of mind-blowing sensation, her nipples rigid and tingling above. Waves of pleasure would’ve dropped her to her knees if he hadn’t held onto her. She clung to him as he rose, and after he stood he smoothed her dress over her trembling thighs for her. She sighed against his chest as her climax faded to a sort of dizzy, stunned satisfaction.
     
    Footsteps sounded from the front of the store.
     
    “Jason,” Derek breathed, his breath sending a few strands of her hair dancing. “He must’ve used his key to come in the front door.” He frowned, as if this were unusual.
     
    A shadow darkened the doorway between the front of the restaurant and the kitchen, followed by a tall, slender, dark-haired man of twenty-five or so who Kelly assumed to be Jason. His blue eyes widened spectacularly at the sight of Kelly and Derek, whose hand was still resting on her thigh.
     
    She forced herself to