Golden [ #2 EFS ] ✓

Matchweek Twenty-Six: Sheffield United vs. Liverpool [bonus]

Bonus Chapter

T R E N T

ITS SO HARD to sit across from Samara on the barstools in the kitchen while she's cooking. I made it a rule that she isn't allowed to ever be in the kitchen unless she's only wearing my shirt. She didn't complain but this usually ends in sex. But now, she strictly told me to keep my hands away from her because my parents are coming over for lunch. Samara is determined to cook for them and she's so focused.

I rest my head on my hands, watching her measure the flower before dropping it into the bowl. She's making chocolate cake and she looks adorable with flour smeared across her face. She tucks her hair behind her ear - that's pulled back into a pony tail even though she knows how much I love it open.

She bends down to put the finished the cake mixture in the oven giving me a good view of her red thong. She is so sexy, turning me on unknowingly. I can only take so much, so I do the one thing I can.

I stand behind her as she is bent over, rubbing my crotch on her butt. Her hands fly to the kitchen counter, gripping them as she wiggles her hips. I run my hands up the side of her thighs, coming to a stop at her butt cheeks. I squeeze her tender skin and she let's out a small sigh. I find the fact that she's all flushed and sweating because she's going out of her way to cook for my family so sexy. I would have wifed her by now if she would let me.

"Why don't you take a break?" I ask her, sticking my hand under her shirt.

I trace the sexy indent on her back, cupping her boobs before trailing my hand down her tummy to her sensitive area. My fingers trace the band of her thong, but her hands clamped down on mine before I can slip my fingers into her heat. She turns to me with a glare set towards me.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asks sternly.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I ask her incredulously, shrugging.

"Trent, I'm trying to cook for your family. I can't do that if you keep distracting me." She scolds.

"What do you expect me to do when you're walking around with just my shirt on?" I ask innocently.

"You're the one who said that I am only allowed to cook if I use only your shirt."

"Can't you take a small break? Just five minutes. That should be enough for a quickie." I beg, circling my arms around her waist.

"Why do guys always think with the wrong head?" She groans, shaking her head. "Just five minutes." She caves.

I fist pump my hands in the air, before picking her up and placing her on the counter. She giggles, wrapping her legs around my waist. She cups my cheeks in her palms. She kisses me deeply, running her hands down my bare chest, scratching my skin. I love how she marks me up like this. It's her way of claiming me as hers.

I run my hands up her legs, practically ripping the thong off her. She looks at the torn material in my hands with a shocked look on her face. And this is why she should never tease me so much.

"This was my favourite one." She whines, mourning the death of her thong.

"I'll buy more." I mumble, smashing my lips on hers.

I pull her plump bottom lip between my teeth and she moans into my mouth, her hands going straight to my shorts. She traces the outline of my boner, palming me through the shorts. My lips descend on her neck, sucking on her sweet spot just below her ear. She moans, arching her back into me so that I can feel her erect nipples through her shirt.

I'm quick to pull her shirt over her head, wasting no time in pulling her nipple between my teeth. Her nails dig into my shoulders, running them down my arms. I place my lips back on her, deepening the kiss. My hands lay on her waist, squeezing her soft kiss and-