Whisper Destiny

Chapter 51

~ Natasha ~

I woke up with a smile still plastered on my face, the remnants of last night's ecstasy still coursing through my veins. I had the best orgasm in my life last night. Catherine was absolutely phenomenal. Every move, every touch, every caress—her lips, her tongue, her fingers—they all ignited something primal within me. My thoughts kept drifting back to our intimate encounter, and a flush of heat warmed my cheeks at the memory.

As I preparing myself to start my day, when I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, the words slipped out as I stared, wide-eyed, at my reflection, "What the hell, Catherine?"

There, just beneath my earlobe, was a glaringly obvious hickey, large and unmistakable, and it wasn't alone. Several more were scattered across my neck and collarbone, like love notes from the night before. "You're going to be the death of me," I grunted to myself, a wave of irritation wash over me. For sure, a lots of concealer required to cover these hickeys.

As I descended the stairs, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and something mouthwateringly delicious filled the air, teasing my senses and making my stomach rumble in anticipation. When I stepped into the kitchen, my gaze immediately fell on Catherine, her back turned to me as she stood at the stove, preparing breakfast. My earlier irritation toward her began to melt away, softened by the simple yet comforting sight of her in this domestic setting. It felt inexplicably warm, like the feeling of coming home after a long journey.

I'm not sure how long I stood there, silently watching her, before she finally turned around. The moment her eyes met mine, she greeted me with a warm smile that reached her eyes. She should smile more, I thought in my mind.

"Hey, good morning. Breakfast? Or would you rather I pack it up for you?" she asked, her voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty, as if she expected me to distance myself from her again.

Instead of answering, I walked over to the kitchen island and took a seat across from her, letting my silence speak for itself. Her smile grew a little wider, relief evident in her expression, and she quickly serve me a cup of coffee—just the way I like it.

She took a seat beside me after placing a plate of pancakes in front of me, the edges adorned with fresh, vibrant fruits.

I couldn't help the satisfied moan that escaped me as I took my first bite. The pancake was incredibly fluffy, light, and so delicious. Each bite seemed to melt in my mouth, an indulgent delight that made my taste buds sing. By now, I have no doubt in Catherine's cooking skills.

Catherine's teasing voice broke through my reverie. "Is it that good? Your moans sound more exciting than when I gave you that orgasm last night. Maybe I need to step up my game."

I felt my cheeks flush as I cleared my throat, embarrassed by how much I'd enjoyed that first bite. But instead of commenting further, I shifted my focus to my irritation from earlier.

"Why did you leave so many hickeys on me? Do you know how much effort I took to cover them up?" I began, aiming for a tone of sternness, but instead, my words came out more like a complaint, as if a girl complaining to her mother of the loss of her favorite shoes.

Catherine turned to me, a smirk playing on her lips. "You weren't complaining last night," she teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

She started to lean closer, her gaze flicking to my neck. "Let me see..."

"No thanks. I've got them covered with concealer," I said quickly, pushing her hand away. Even with that simple act, the brief touch of her fingers sent a jolt through me, making my heart rate speed up. How did she manage to do that?

"My apologies, I'll be more careful next time," she replied teasingly, but a sudden awkwardness settled between us, the easy banter from moments before slipping away.