Chapter 1
The van’s engine faded down the block, and the lock clicked shut behind Dante’s back. His hand was already inside my panties before he said a word, two fingers pressing flat against my slit through the soaked cotton, and his other hand tipped the piping bag so a ribbon of warm chocolate dripped onto my inner thigh. The heat of it made me gasp, and his fingers pushed deeper, spreading me open.
“Don’t move, sister. I need to test the temperature.”
The word sister hit my spine like a current. I was already wet before the chocolate touched me, but his fingers curling inside me made it worse, that thick slide of his knuckles against my walls. The chocolate dripped down my thigh in a slow golden line, cooling against my skin while his thumb found my clit and pressed.
“We’re not supposed to,” I heard myself say, but my hips pushed against his hand, grinding my cunt into his palm.
“The batch is setting,” he said, pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his mouth. He sucked them clean, watching me. “Ganache. Your batch is ready.”
I was trembling on the cold marble of the tempering table, my knees already spreading. The stone was freezing against my bare skin, a shock that made my nipples hard as he set the piping bag down and picked up the candy thermometer. The digital probe glinted under the work light.
“I need a live reading,” he said, and he pressed the metal tip to my clit.
The cold shock of it made me jerk, but his other hand clamped my hip down. The probe was smooth and cool against the hot bud of my clit, and he moved it in a slow circle, watching the display. “36.9,” he said. “One-tenth to go.”
“Dante, that’s not—” I started, but he slid the probe lower, pressing it just inside my entrance. The metal was cold against my inner walls, and I felt my own heat fight it, my cunt clenching around the slim shaft. The thermometer beeped, a sharp electronic chirp that made me flinch.
“There,” he said, pulling it out. “Your body knows what it needs.”
He dropped to his knees on the marble and put his mouth on my cunt. His tongue was hot and rough, lapping up the chocolate that had dripped down my thigh, then dragging over my clit in long, flat strokes. I cried out, my hands flying to his hair, and he groaned against me, the vibration shooting through my belly. He ate me like I was a batch he was testing, slow and methodical, his tongue pushing inside me before flicking back up to my clit.
“Daddy,” I gasped, the word slipping out before I could stop it. “Please.”
He pulled back, his chin slick with my wetness. “Please what, sister?”
“Please don’t stop.”
He smiled and buried his face back between my legs, two fingers sliding into my cunt alongside his tongue. He curled them against my g-spot, pressing hard, while his mouth sucked my clit. The chocolate on my thigh had cooled into a tacky film, and the cold air on my wet skin made every nerve scream. I came against his face with a sharp cry, my thighs clamping around his head, my whole body shaking on the marble.
He stood up, wiping his mouth. “36.9. Still one-tenth to go.”
I whimpered, reaching for him, but he stepped back. “The customer decides the curve. I’m the customer.”
He grabbed my hair and flipped me over, pushing my chest down onto the cold marble. The stone bit into my nipples, and I gasped as he dragged my hips back, my knees sliding on the smooth surface. He picked up the wide rubber tempering spatula and brought it down on my ass with a sharp slap. The sound cracked through the workshop, and I yelped, my cunt clenching around nothing.
“Count,” he said.
“One,” I breathed.
Another slap, harder. “Two.”
“Three.”
He tossed the spatula aside and I heard his belt unbuckle. The heat of his cock pressed against my wet slit, and I pushed back, desperate for him. He grabbed my hip and held me still.
“Don’t move, sister. I need to test the temperature.”
The head of his cock pressed at my entrance, and I felt every inch of that thick stretch as he pushed in. The ring of muscle around my cunt resisted, then gave, and he slid deeper, his shaft dragging against my inner walls, the ridge of him catching on the rough spot inside me. He seated himself fully against my cervix, and I moaned, my fingers scrabbling on the marble.
He started slow, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in, each stroke grinding against my g-spot. His hand slid under my belly, pressing my pelvis down into each thrust, and the angle changed, his cock hitting deeper, harder. The cold marble under my knees and the heat of him inside me — I was drowning in the contrast.
“Your cunt is gripping me like it knows me,” he said, his voice rough. “Like it’s been waiting for this test.”
“Daddy, please,” I begged. “Please fill me.”
He pulled my hair, forcing my back to arch. “You’ll take what I give you.”
The thermometer on the marble beeped again, the timer for the batch, and the sound made me clench around him. He groaned, his pace quickening. His palm slapped my thigh, a wet smack that echoed off the walls, and I cried out. The rhythm built, each stroke faster, harder, his balls slapping against my clit with every thrust.
“This is my batch,” he said, his voice a growl. “My test surface. My good girl.”
“Yes, Daddy,” I sobbed. “Yours. I’m yours.”
The phone rang.
Vera’s ringtone cut through the air, and I froze, my whole body locking up. Dante didn’t stop. He pushed deeper, slower, grinding against my cervix, and I bit my fist to keep from moaning. He reached over and answered the phone, his voice calm.
“Hey, Vera.”
I could hear her voice through the speaker. “The van overheated. I’m coming back in twenty minutes. Everything okay there?”
Dante thrust into me, slow and deep, and I pressed my forehead against the cold marble, my walls clenching around him. He put the phone on speaker and set it down beside my head.
“Everything’s fine,” he said. “Just working on the batch.”
“Lina still helping?” Vera asked.
I opened my mouth, and my voice came out too high. “We’re just working.”
Dante smiled. He pulled out almost all the way, then slammed back in, and I had to swallow a scream. His cum was already leaking from where I was stretched around him, dripping down my thigh.
“Okay, love you both,” Vera said. “Twenty minutes.”
The line clicked dead.
Dante didn’t slow down. He fucked me harder, faster, the phone still on the marble beside my face. His hand found my clit and pinched, and I came with a sob, my inner walls milking him, pulling him deeper. He groaned, a guttural sound, and I felt his cock pulse inside me, hot cum flooding my cunt, filling me to the brim.
He stayed inside me, his cum leaking out around his shaft, dripping down my thighs onto the marble. The chocolate syrup had left a string across the stone, and I knew Vera would see it.
Dante pulled out, and his cum ran down my thigh in a thick line. He picked up the thermometer and pressed it to my slick entrance. It beeped.
“37.1,” he said. “Your batch is ready.”
I pushed myself up on shaking arms, my legs weak. He was already moving, wiping down the marble, but I saw the chocolate ghost on the stone, the evidence he couldn’t quite erase. I reached for a scrap of the rejected bloomed chocolate bar on the counter and wrapped it in my scarf, hiding it in my sweater pocket while he was busy with the thermometer.
He looked at me, and I saw him smile. “We’ll call this batch 37°,” he said. “Lina’s batch.”
My phone buzzed. A text from Vera: “Leaving the garage now. See you in twenty.”
I looked at the marble, at the cum drying on my thigh, at the chocolate stain that wouldn’t come off. Dante was already reaching for me again, pulling me toward the cold stone.
Twenty minutes.
