The Devil's Favorite Chef
Cool air kissed her panties, and he noticed it immediately - the dark, damp stain on the pale silk.
“Fuck, Victoria,” he growled, voice all gravel and hunger.
“Look at you. Dripping for me already.”
Her cheeks burned, embarrassment tangled up with thrill. No man had ever talked to her like this before, so direct with his hunger. She should have pulled away, but instead, she let her legs fall wider. Sebastian suddenly took a mouthful from a bowl full of ice and pineapples and dropped to his knees, rough palms holding her open.
He pressed a slow kiss to her knee, then another, higher this time. She was involuntarily shivering.
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