Hell's Smitten (Gordon Ramsay x Reader)

*Chapter 83- Wherever you want Me

Tuesday, July 16th, 2013

Gordon's passion radiates off him in waves of heat. My breath catches in my throat as the door to the pantry creaks when he leans further into me.

"This is a bit too risky, isn't it?" I manage to gasp out as he kisses along my neck, his soft blond hair caressing my cheek.

"Maybe," he mumbles against the nape of my neck before pecking the skin lightly. "Do you want me to stop?" His hand on my hitched leg's thigh moves higher.

"... No."

I squirm as his tongue traces the outline of my collarbone. It's early anyways, and the kitchen upstairs is stocked. No one should come down, and even if they wanted to, I know Abel would catch them.

"Good, because I don't know if I could stop anyways. You've been driving me absolutely mad," his voice is dredged in longing. I toss my head back, leaning into the silver door as he uses his free hand to lift the bottom of my shirt. His calloused fingertips send shock waves through my body as he traces my stomach.

"We," I pant, "shouldn't make the pantry smell like sex, Gordon."

He draws back from where he had been nuzzling into my neck with a sigh. His deep blue eyes are clouded with lust, making me bite my lower lip.

"Fuck, I suppose that makes sense," he groans, yet still grinds himself into me. "My office cameras didn't require maintenance though, so we can't go there."

After a moment, he leans towards my ear. "I have an idea," his voice is husky.

"I could fuck you in the hallway..." His fingers slither down my back.

"Or I could ravage in the dining room over a table..." He hooks his finger into my waistband.

"Or maybe we could go outside and make love in the alley behind the restaurant..." He tugs my waistband tantalizingly.

My face gets redder at each of his suggestions. All of them sound too dangerous to go through with, but my body is screaming at me to let him take me anywhere and everywhere.

"I could just," my fingers press into the soft skin of his neck as I lean into him, "suck your dick?" Ordinarily, I would have been too nervous to suggest something like that so boldly, but the ardent way he's exploring my body throws all my anxiety to the back of my mind.

"Mmh," he mumbles. "I did want to lay you out over the chef's table though. You'd be the most delectable thing I've ever served." A playful smirk teases his lips.

"Not while the camera crew might be poking around, I can't hide under the chef's table like I did your desk that time Pietro walked in on us." I giggle. Pietro used to cause me so much anxiety and now I'm laughing at the memory. It feels good to let go.

"Alright, alright– if my little minx would like to suck my cock, who am I to deny her?" his tone is provocative and his gaze sends me to my knees.

"Thank you, Gordon," I whisper from in front of his slick black chef's pants as my excited fingers fumble with the zipper.

"No, thank you (Y/N). I love my submissive little pet," he says, running his fingers through my hair as I finally manage to pull his zipper down and drop his pants to the floor. His boxer-briefs are black and tight at the front. I press my lips to the bulge and feel the cotton fabric rub against my lips as he bucks into me with a small gasp.

"I love being your pet, Gordon," I trace my fingers across the outline of his impressive member, trying to commit the feeling to memory. The warmth and the subtle twitches beneath my fingertips coupled with his staggered breathing is euphoric.