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“How many times do I have to tell you?” Rosie’s question was followed by a loud smack as she struck Julian’s behind with the spatula. “You stay out of the kitchen when I’m cooking.” Julian stifled a groan as she smacked him again.
“In my defense, I uh, I was only trying to be helpful.” His face was already flushed. “Really, truly.”
“Hm, and you do a fine job of it,” she said, idly twirling the spatula, fully aware of how hungrily he watched it. “Always managing to be standing in front of the exact cupboard I need to get into, stealing nibbles of the meal before it's done.”
“Well you always have to take a taste test as you cook, right?” He bit his lip as she narrowed her eyes at him.
“As it’s cooking,” she said. “I caught you pinching off the bread dough while it was still rising, you little thief.”
“Well, ah, thieves should be punished, shouldn’t they?” He asked as he leaned closer. Rosie growled and pushed him against the counter, which he eagerly sunk down against.
“That’s exactly what you’d like isn’t it,” she asked, tilting his chin up with one of her nails. “Surely you dunnae think I wouldn’t catch on to your little plan, did you?”
“Oh, no of course not, I-” his voice died into a whimper as she dug her nails into his jaw. “Well alright that was a, uh, certainly a considered bonus.” They stared at one another for a moment, the bubbling of the pot on the stove being the only sound that broke the hungry silence.
“Shirt off,” Rosie commanded as she withdrew her grip. She turned back to check the various pots and pans cooking on the stove as he hurriedly rid himself of the garment. “No, those stay on,” she said without even looking his way, just pointing at his trousers with one of her nails.
“Oh, yes of course. I uh, well seen as I’m being punished I don’t get to decide what comes off and what doesn’t do I?”
“Up,” was all Rosie said as she pulled him to his feet. He eagerly followed her lead, his hands trailing yearningly up her legs and the swell of her hips.
“Stay,” she commanded as she stepped away to rummage in one of the drawers. He obeyed, biting his lip as he leaned against the counter and waited for her. Try as he might, he couldn’t see what she had quite literally hidden up her sleeve when she returned to him; though his curiosity was quickly forgotten as she tangled her fingers in his hair and tilted his head back, exposing his throat to press open mouth kisses to his skin, almost taunting him with the edges of her teeth. Her hand trailed lazily up and down his chest before gripping and squeezing, winning a pleased groan as her nails dug into his skin.
“Please-”
Rosie hushed him and pressed a softer kiss to his collar. Julian couldn’t help but groan again and roll his hips against her as she pinched and rolled his nipples between her fingers. He yelped as he felt the pinch of clothespins against his skin—so that was what she’d had hidden in her sleeve. She hushed him again and briefly stepped away to grab the spatula she’d smacked him with earlier. She motioned for him to turn around, which he did so eagerly
“Good boy,” she purred as she traced his spine slowly, enough to make him whine before she swung and struck him hard on the ass with the spatula. Julian moaned and gripped the edge of the sink so tightly his knuckles went white.
“Is this what you wanted? This why you kept comin’ in here and botherin’ me?” She asked as she swatted him again. He groaned and his heart fluttered, even though he couldn’t see he could easily imagine the way her teeth glinted as she grinned.
“Use your words.”
“Yes, yes.” He found it hard to speak; his trousers had become uncomfortably tight.
“That’s my good boy,” she said, petting his flank. “You just cannae help but get in trouble, can you?”
“No, I,” he gulped as he felt the edge of the wooden spatula pressing against his thigh. “That’s, ah, that’s why I need you to keep me in line.” He sighed as she pressed close against his back and wrapped her arms around him, humming low in her throat and lazily kissing his shoulder.
“You’re awful lucky I didn’t have my rolling pin on hand,” she murmured as she brushed her fingers over the clothespins and made him whine.
“O-oh but that certainly could have been fun too, nothing quite as exhilarating as getting the wind knocked out of you, eh?”
“I’m not about to throw you around like that in my kitchen. With your gangly limbs you’d bring everything on the walls down with you.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but could only make a pitiful, needy sound as she sank her teeth into the space between his shoulder and his neck. Her hands trailed up his chest, and he yelped again as the clothespins were roughly pulled off.
“Oh you poor thing,” Rosie teased, her voice mockingly sympathetic. “All swollen and red, they must hurt, hm?” He moaned and arched his back against her as she rubbed them in gentle circles.
“Rosie, oh, Rosie, please,” he whined. It was starting to become maddening, he needed more.
“Hmm? Oh, hang on a second.” The warmth of her pressed against his back left as she turned to check the pot on the stove. He whimpered, but stayed still, stiff as a board.
“Five more minutes,” she said, setting the ladle down and returning the pot’s lid. “But it would have been sooner if someone had stayed out of the kitchen.” She smacked his ass again, this time with just her hand.
“Well, uh, like you said, I just can’t help but get into trouble.”
“I know, I know. You’re such a naughty boy,” she trailed her nails lightly up and down his sides. “Whatever should I do with you?”
“Could you..?” He caught her hand and pressed it to his waistband.
“Could I … what? Speak up.”
He moaned and bucked against her hand as she nipped the soft skin of his neck.
“Please, touch me,” he cried, his voice cracking. “There, there please, I need it so badly it hurts.”
Rosie’s teeth on his neck were replaced by soft kisses pressed against already bruising skin. “Oh, that’s too bad, isn’t it? That’s a reward for good boys, and as we established, you’ve been very naughty.”
“I know, but-” his voice devolved into a groan as she pinched his nipples; his face burned as he could tell he was starting to leak pre.
“Shhh,” she crooned as she gently held his throat, feeling his pulse jump beneath her fingers. “Now, I want you to go upstairs and take care of yourself and wash up. Food’ll be ready by then. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, yes of course,” he panted. “Yes ma’am, I’ll be good.”
“I know you will,” she pressed a kiss to his cheek before giving his ass one last dismissive smack and turning back to the stove. “Off with you then.”
Julian had never run up a flight of stairs so fast in his whole life.