It seemed like a normal Saturday. She was stood at the island in the middle of the kitchen preparing a light snack. The sound of her chopping covered up the sound of his steps as he walked in behind her.
"Hey love, what are you making?" His voice startled her and interrupted her chopping. He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled his nose in her hair and neck. Feeling his arms around her calmed her instantly, and the warmth of his breath on her neck sent a small surge of electricity down her spine.
"Just a small snack. Would you like some?" He did not respond. Instead, he moved his arms from around her waist. His left hand went up to move her hair off her neck, and the right hand traced the length of her forearm to her hand.
She put the knife down gently and went to turn around, but he pushed her forward with his hips, pinning her against the edge of the island so that she could not move.
He kissed her neck as his hand reached for hers then the cutting board, feeling for the knife. He picked it up and moved his face to nuzzle the back of her head. He took a deep breath.
"You smell scrumptious."
"Thank you. I showered." She giggled.
He chuckled.
"You're still my dirty girl." He raised the knife to her neck, flipping it over so the spine pressed against her skin. He wrapped his left hand around her waist again, slid the knife across her neck and under the fabric of her apron's strap, cutting it in one swoop.
He palmed the knife and eased the pressure of his hips, taking half a step back.
"Turn around."
As she turned to face him, the top half of her apron fell and hung down at her midriff. She was wearing a ribbed white cotton tank top that did very little to cover up her cleavage. The material clung to her soft skin in all the right ways, and her breasts returned the favor.
He held the knife by its blade and pressed the butt of its handle in between her clavicles, slowly tracing the curvature of her breasts and the hemmed edges of the fabric.
"Am I making you nervous?"
"and excited, sir."
He laughed.
"Your whore lips say the sweetest things." He set the knife down on the island and stepped closer to her. He leaned in to kiss her. As their lips touched, she knew she was in trouble. He kissed her with a centuries-long hunger, sucking her tongue, and biting her lips. Her legs went weak, and she could not tell if it was because of her excitement or her fear of his primal passion.
As she kissed him back, his hands roamed her body; up and down her back, her waist, her ass, and finally her neck.
"Fuck!" He grunted. "I want to hurt you."
"I serve at your pleasure, sir."
He squeezed her neck and kissed her again. His hands fell to her shoulders, arms, then her breasts.
Rrrrrrip
Before she could make a peep, he ripped his tank top off her, slid it over her shoulders, and threw it to the ground.
She stood between his arms, her hair disheveled and her lips agape. He brushed her hair off her face and hooked it behind her ear.
Slap!