Eliza rubbed the piece of raw marinated steak between her hands. Rubbing the steak was like masturbating. The constant rubbing shook her breasts, her nipples jumped against the silk of her slip, which made her so tight between her legs she would have stopped to touch herself if she had not been touching raw meat.

Everything was masturbation fodder for her these days. Everything made her want to rub herself.

She had recovered from the car accident, but had not recovered her sex life. Cooking made her happy, she did a lot of things now to make to make herself happy.

She was living with Rafe again, and they were devoted to each other as they had been before, but they had not made love. Their mutual dabbling outside their relationship was something they had to consider. Neither of them was happy about what had happened, but they had planned to make a life together and that was not something they planned on breaking.

She felt like she had felt when she was in Shanghai, and her lust for Oscar had driven her barefoot in a cab to his hotel to get to him.

Oscar.

Her thoughts drifted to thoughts of Oscar which made her cry as if she had been chopping onions. She rubbed the steak again, the spices spread over her palms, wrists and inside her fingernails. It was the spices there that touched the tips of her fingers that made her entire body tingle. She quickly washed her hands which were remained redolent of sage, that wafted up her nose when she grabbed her breast and rubbed her nipple with her index finger. Her hand slid down over and under her slip, and she was just about to ease the tightness between her legs…

“What are you doing?”

Eliza dropped her hand to her thigh, turning back to Rafe sheepishly.

When she turned away from him, she felt him move behind her. He had not been that close to her in such a long time, his finger on her was like striking a match against its box.

His hand was on her breast, but it did not smell of sage. He smelled of sandalwood and bergamot. She leaned against him, unsure if it was of her own volition or simply for the depth of her lust. Her hand was on the top of her thigh, his hand covered hers.

“I missed you…”

He put his hand about her neck, and she gasped even though he was nowhere near choking her. She tilted her head so that he could kiss her neck.

“I missed you,” she admitted shyly as if she felt she was being unfaithful, when she was with the man she was engaged to.

Rafe kissed her neck, cheek, temple and just the very corner of her mouth, his hand still on her breast. Her slip fell down about her ankles, and she did not step out of it but spread her legs as far as it would allow her. She leaned into him even more, she wanted it from behind. There was no intimacy lacking even though they were not facing each other. The sound of his zipper made her so tight, she closed her eyes trying to bare it.

He put his hands on her shoulders after he kissed both of them, and entered her. His style was always animal, he made her feel like he was marking her. This time especially he was, he really was. His thrusts pressed her against the sink and she gripped the steak in response, tenderizing it with her fists.

Then Rafe was tender, kissing every inch of her body. Eliza quivered with the sensation of his lips, wishing she was a writer because she was sure there was a clever metaphor here. Rafe inside her while she fondled a steak.

Steak would now be legitimate masturbation fodder for her..

More masturbation fodder, I mean, Wicked Wednesday here:

photo via Google Images