“Dinner is served.”
The clink of silverware against porcelain should have grated her nerves. A porcine man to her left chewed with a vigor that rivaled that of the animal he resembled; nauseating in its sound and visual component. The woman directly across from her continued to drone on about her latest shopping venture in a voice that reached an almost unbearable pitch. Between that and the general ostentatious and downright pretentious behavior of the other dinner guest, she should have been ready to scream her frustration.
Except she remained blissfully unaware.
“Eat, Stepha. It would be a shame to see this lovely dish go to waste.”
His lips brushed her right ear before turning back to his plate. The delicious smell of the poulet au vinaigre wafted up to her, but every ounce of her attention stayed zeroed in on the hand working between her thighs. He played her well beneath the table, bunching her skirt as high as the clothe would shield, forcing her thighs wide the moment the butler pushed her chair forward.
Her eyes fluttered shut as a calloused thumb rubbed slowly at her clit.
She wasn’t so far gone that she missed the warning in his voice. It took effort pry her eyes open and more than that to refocus on the meal at hand. A glance to around the table showed everyone devouring their entrée with little conversation. Even the chatty shopper had her mouth stuffed full of chicken.
Lifting her fork, she cut a small piece and guided it to her mouth. No sooner than the flavors burst across her tongue, he’s pressing into her. A deep moan slips from her as she savored both the dish and the sensation of his fingers.
“It’s quite good, isn’t it?” mumbled the fat man to her left, his food dotting his lips and chin. “Good enough to make you see stars.”
See stars indeed.
She took another bite, afraid of what she’d say if she allowed herself to speak. A glance to her right showed him enjoying his dinner as if he weren’t driving her insane in front of everyone. He had the audacity to wink at her as he sipped his wine, the mirth and lust in his eyes unnerving.
“Finish your food or no dessert.” He turned back to his food even as his fingers dipped deeper into her body.
The beginnings of an orgasm tightened in her belly. She tried to concentrate on her food instead of the way her clit rolled like a fat button under his thumb, or how she dampened the suede cushion of the chair with her wetness, or if the rotund man beside her could see the way she jerked with each pass of that thumb. Not to mention the rub of her erect nipples against the silk of her dress, or the sweat dotting her brow.
Her vision blurred, she could feel it creeping up on her. Each time she placed the fork in her mouth meant she was closer to the end of the dish. If she could just finish eating, she wouldn’t embarrass herself by cumming at the dinner table.
She felt in a rush. It took everything not to close her legs around the hand torturing her. He’d punish her publicly if she did. No, just…
It crept up on her with such suddenness that she couldn’t prepare. Her mouth opened with a gasp as it swept through her, and she could only close her eyes and hold on as her body took control. The fork clattered on her mostly empty plate with enough loudness to draw a few curious glances her way. He didn’t stop teasing her twitching clit for one second.
“Miss? Are you alright?” A sweaty hand landed on her left arm and she pried her eyes open.
“Yes, I…” A shudder moved through her and she swallowed hard before finishing. “I’m fine. Just… A lot on my mind.”
He eyed her closely before patting her arm. “Nothing an extra glass of wine and some good dessert can’t fix.”
Her laughter was weak and died away almost before it started. “You’re probably right.” She reached for her glass without another word.
Stepha breathed a silent sigh of relief when he turned back to his second helping of dinner. The heat in her cheeks seemed to suffuse her entire body and she couldn’t bring herself to meet the gazes of those looking her way.
The soft chuckle coming from her right only intensified her embarrassment. She glared at him over the edge of her nearly empty wineglass. The wicked grin her flashed unsettled her more.
“I agree,” he began as his eyes skimmed her body, making her nipples tighten in response, “a little dessert is exactly what you need to take your mind of things. Something with sweet cream that melts the moment you touch it.”