Chapter 2: Kiss in the Kitchen
994 Words
It was a Sunday. Family lunch.
People were everywhere, tita cooking in the kitchen, cousins playing Mobile Legends in the sala, and me... pretending I wasn’t sneaking glances at the one man I shouldn’t even be thinking about.
Ninong Ramon.
He looked so damn good in a plain white shirt and jeans. Simple. But the way it hugged his arms and showed off his chest? Tangina. He looked like he came straight out of a fuckin’ teleserye.
I sat at the dining table, scrolling on my phone, sipping iced tea like I wasn’t already fantasizing about the things he did to me last week in that hotel room.
My legs were still sore from it.
He passed behind me while carrying a tray of drinks. His hand brushed the small of my back. I tensed.
“Careful,” he whispered low in my ear, so no one could hear. “You keep looking at me like that and I might bend you over this table.”
I almost choked on my drink.
“Behave,” I whispered back without looking up. “My mom’s right there.”
“So?” he chuckled. “Doesn’t mean I can’t touch what’s mine.”
I looked at him sharply. That cocky smirk on his face? f**k. I hated how much it turned me on.
After lunch, everyone scattered. My mom and titas were busy cleaning up, cousins went outside, and I slipped into the kitchen to wash a plate.
The water was running when I felt him behind me.
“Ninong…”
His hands went to my hips, firm and possessive.
“You smell so f*****g good.”
I leaned back into him, breathing in deep.
“This is crazy,” I whispered. “Someone might see.”
“Then let them.” He pushed my hair to the side and kissed my neck. “I don’t care.”
I gasped as he bit gently, leaving a small red mark.
“Ninong, stop…”
“You don’t want me to.” His hand slid up, cupping my breast through my thin shirt. I wasn’t even wearing a bra.
“You wore this just to tease me, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t know you were coming,” I lied.
He grabbed my waist tighter. “Liar. You knew. You always know.”
His fingers pinched my n****e, hard, and I bit my lip to keep from moaning.
“Ninong, please,” I begged, trembling. “Someone could walk in.”
But he didn’t stop.
He pushed my hips forward so I was bent slightly over the sink. His body pressed into mine from behind, and I could feel how hard he was already.
“You feel that?” he growled. “That’s what you do to me. Every time.”
Then he pulled my shorts down just a bit enough to expose the curve of my ass.
“Fück,” he whispered. “I wish I could eat you right here.”
My heart was pounding out of my chest. This was insane. We were in the kitchen. At home. But I was wet. Dripping.
He reached between my legs and rubbed me through my panties.
“Already soaking?” he smirked. “You’re such a naughty goddaughter.”
His fingers slid under the fabric, stroking my slit slowly.
I was dying inside.
“You want me to fück you?” he asked.
I nodded. “But not here…”
He turned me around fast and lifted me onto the kitchen counter. My legs parted instinctively.
His mouth crashed onto mine, and I kissed him back like I’d been starving for it.
Our tongues tangled, hands all over each other. He sucked on my lower lip hard enough to leave a bruise.
“I need you so bad,” he panted, pulling his cøck out.
He rubbed the tip against my c**t, teasing.
“You’re so wet for me,” he moaned. “Say it. Say you want my cøck.”
“I want it,” I gasped. “I want your c**k, Ninong. Fück please put it in.”
He pushed in slowly, groaning loud as my p***y swallowed him.
We both moaned.
“God, you’re tight,” he growled. “I missed this.”
He started thrusting into me right there on the kitchen counter, slow at first, then harder.
Every time his hips slammed into mine, I saw stars.
“f**k, you feel so good,” I cried.
He grabbed my face and kissed me hard, tongue deep and possessive.
“This p***y’s mine,” he growled. “Don’t you ever let anyone else touch it.”
“Never,” I moaned. “It’s all yours.”
He pounded into me faster, harder, my moans getting louder.
I was close. So close.
He felt it too.
“Come for me,” he ordered. “Let go, baby.”
And I did. My whole body convulsed around him. My nails dug into his back as I cried out his name.
He followed with a loud groan, filling me up as he buried himself deep inside.
We stayed like that sweaty, panting, tangled in each other until we heard someone walking down the hall.
“Shiït,” he whispered.
I jumped off the counter, pulled my shorts back up, and grabbed a plate like I’d been washing dishes the whole time.
He zipped up, grabbed a towel, and wiped his forehead.
Tita came in.
“Oh, kayo pala diyan. Ang tahimik ah.”
“Uh, I was just helping wash,” I said, trying to steady my voice.
Ninong smiled calmly. “Good girl. Always helping.”
Tita smiled, walked away.
And just like that, the moment was over. But the tension? Still there.
He walked past me again, hand brushing mine as he whispered, “Next time… the bathroom. With the door locked.”
I bit my lip. I was already looking forward to it.
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