"And how exactly did you bribe Jean into letting us do this?"

With a wry smile, I watched as Harry folded up his sleeves, coming up beside me where I was laying out all of the ingredients on the counter.

"I promised him he could make whatever menu he wanted for our wedding," I told, hearing Harry sigh deeply. "Just as long as he left the cake to us."

"A decision I'm sure we'll regret later," Harry murmured, coming up behind me and placing a kiss against my throat.

I couldn't help but moan softly as I melted into Harry's touch, feeling his arms loop around my waist and hold me closely, his lips still feathering along my neck.

In truth, I didn't care much about the food. I knew Jean would make something amazing. He had never disappointed in the past, so I knew whatever marvelous creation he came up with, we'd love it. But as for the wedding cake... I had been very specific in my request for that.

"So how do you want to do this?" Harry finally spoke, squeezing my waist softly. "It's already 8:30PM, we should get started unless you want to spend all night here."

"Who says I don't?" I teased, but then reached for the flour. "Measure six cups of flour into a bowl for me, I'll get started on the wet ingredients. Try not to get it all over the table."

Harry chuckled shortly, before pressing a last kiss to my neck. "Yes, chef."

And that's how our late night wedding cake bakery began. Harry was diligent in measuring and followed my orders to the T, while I made sure to crack the eggs and scrape the vanilla beans evenly into the wet batter. By the time the batter was ready to be poured into molds and shoved into the oven, only half an hour had passed.

"Alright, the timer is set," I announced, placing the little electronic timer on the counter next to the oven. "In about 30-40 minutes, we should have perfectly baked red velvet cakes ready to cool off. In the meantime, we should get started on the frosting and the decorations."

"Ah," Harry came up behind me again, leaning down to my ear. "This part I remember well."

My cheeks reddened at the delicious memory currently replaying in my mind. Harry's lips pressed a featherlight kiss right behind my ear, telling me he was thinking the exact same thing as I was.

"I should... do the... cream," I breathed out with difficulty as Harry lips continued to pepper small, yet hot kisses up and down the column of my neck. "And, ah... you can do the..."

"Strawberries?" His voice rumbled darkly in my ear.

It would appear I was already done with my task; a load of cream had just flooded my panties at the sound of Harry's sultry voice echoing against my skin.

"Yes," I swallowed hard, trying to remember how humans functioned again. "Yes. Uh, you grab the strawberries and I'll, uhm, do the cream."

Harry chuckled knowingly at my frazzled voice, no doubt giving away my arousal. Still, I did my best to resume my bossy attitude as Harry traveled towards the strawberries on the counter while I buried my hot face in the fridge in search of cream.

It would be a miracle if I made it through tonight without giving in to my impulses. Our wedding was tomorrow evening, and I had been saving up my energy for the wedding night. Besides, I couldn't very well be limping down the wedding aisle, could I?

So keep it in your pants, you horny bitch.

Focusing my mind on combining the ingredients for the frosting, I was thankful for when I turned on the mixer—this time without making a mess—and was forced to endure the sound of the mixer whipping for several minutes. It gave me a great excuse to watch the mixture closely, ignoring Harry who was chopping berries behind me, practically feeling his gaze scorch me from the back.

Six or so minutes later, I finally turned the machine off when the frosting was looking nice and thick and shiny. Dipping a finger into the mixture, I scooped a small dollop up and popped it into my mouth for taste. Oh, yeah. That was the stuff.

"Alright, frosting is done. I—" I turned to face Harry but then stopped in my track when deja vu hit me in the face in the shape of... a shirtless Harry.

Standing by the cutting board, scraping the last few sliced strawberries into a bowl, Harry lifted a brow at me as he casually wiped his hands off in a hand towel. "Yes?"

"You're... shirtless," I finally voiced, hoping the way I pressed my legs together looked subtle. It was all I could do to stop the monstrous ache that had suddenly begun pulsing between them.

Was this payback for all the months I had tortured him with my flirting?

"Well, last time I got strawberry on my white shirt, as you no doubt remember." Harry calmly reminded me, walking closer to me as I gripped the edge of the counter. "So I figured, to avoid any... accidents... I'd remove the problem from the equation."

My eyes must've stared too long at his rippled chest, because when his knuckle suddenly forced my chin to tilt up and my eyes to meet his, I felt my cheeks light up with heat as Harry's gaze caught mine, seeing the arousal boiling inside them. "I, uh... yes. Smart move. That... uh, yes, probably..." What the hell was I saying? "Uh, so... we should, uhm, transfer the frosting to a piping bag and put it in the fridge to firm up, so it's ready for when the cake is cooled down. You should uh, take those strawberries and... put them in the fridge as well."

Harry's lips quirked up silently, before he then slowly retracted. Then, doing as told, he went back for the strawberries to place them in the fridge.

Me? I let go of a long breath because I had been seconds away from jumping his half naked bones.

I was doing this for the wedding night. So help me God, tomorrow better be worth it.

Sucking in a big breath, I once again focused on my task and began the process of transferring the frosting into a piping bag. It was a messy affair, scooping thick dollops into a long, bulky piping bag that wasn't being very cooperative. I struggled for a few moments before I felt Harry coming up behind me, his hands sliding down my arms until they reached piping bag. "I'll hold. You fill."

I'd rather you fill me instead, I almost blurted out, but instead bit down on my tongue and muttered a strained; "Thanks."

The process didn't get any easier despite Harry's help. With his body pressed right up against mine, his bare chest digging into my shoulder blades, along with his lips and breath caressing my neck, I wasn't even sure how I managed to coordinate my limbs. A couple of times, I dropped a few dollops as I scooped the sides down of the bowl and tried to transfer it into the piping bag Harry was holding. It didn't get any better when I felt his mouth slowly begin to kiss my shoulder, his tongue slipping out and leaving little wet, burning patches on my skin.

"Harry..." I breathed out, trying not to squirm under him as he continued to cage me between his arms, chest pressed tightly to my back.

"Still missing some frosting, Miss Berry," His raspy voice echoed from somewhere along the column of my neck. "Focus."

I huffed a hard breath out through my mouth and then swallowed when one of his hands left the piping bag and instead pressed itself softly against my stomach. His thumb caressed a light pattern through my t-shirt, before suddenly seeking under it and brushing directly against my skin.

"Harry," I warned him again, but instead my voice came out breathy and needy. I was pretty sure I just dropped a fat dollop of frosting onto the counter, but I was no longer paying attention to that.

"You're making a mess," He observed, and I gave a small huff as his hand now ventured lower, dipping into my cotton shorts. "All of that cream is going to waste, Miss Berry."

Goddamn it. As Harry's hand dipped into my panties and found my soaked folds, I let go of a shudder and a small moan. The pad of his fingers rubbed a slow path up and down, stroking my clit in the process. I could no longer stand still, trembling under his touch. "H-Harry—"

"Cassandra," He echoed, before moving one long digit down to my opening, circling my entrance.

Fuck this frosting. I wanted another kind right this second, be damned our wedding night tomorrow.

Bucking under his hand, I released a moan as Harry finally dipped a finger inside my drenched opening. My hands abandoned the bowl before me and instead gripped onto the counter as I felt him push deeper, curving his finger inside me. His mouth sucked a delicate path down my throat, teeth scraping lightly as he reached my shoulder.

God, I couldn't take this.

"Harry, please," I begged desperately, my hips moving in rhythm to the way his finger moved inside me, occasionally slipping out and rubbing my clit, before dipping back inside. "Oh, God, please..."

I was this close to coming. As if sensing that, Harry applied more pressure to my clit and added a second finger to the mix as he stroked me, stretching me softly.

The frosting was completely abandoned as I now tilted in over the counter, pushing my ass against Harry. I could feel the solidness of his erection digging in between my asscheeks, nothing but fabric keeping us apart. I shuddered when he then began using my backside as leverage, thrusting his fingers inside me whilst simultaneously pressing me deeper into his hardness.

"Harry!" I cried out, my knees buckling beneath me as my orgasm threatened to rip through me. I could barely stay on my toes, struggling to breathe and balance at the same time.

All of a sudden, the pressure then disappeared. Harry's fingers retracted, and the hardness against my ass was gone. My eyes, which I hadn't realized had closed, sprung open as the buildup inside me dissipated.

What just happened?

Looking over my shoulder in confusion, It didn't take me long to find Harry still standing beside me. But instead of using his fingers to make me cum, they were now toying with the hem of my cotton shorts.

Our eyes met. Harry's amber-toned eyes were completely dilated, watching me with a controlled lust as he hooked his fingers into my shorts.

And as he slowly began tugging them down, seeing the neediness in my eyes, he gave me a single look that told me all I needed to know.

Last time we were here, I had sucked him hard and made him come in my mouth, spilling all he was worth down my throat.

– And Harry, ever the gentleman, was going to repay the favor.

Air seemed to evaporate from my lungs as the promise in Harry's eyes rang loud and clear. My mouth fell open and my eyes widened when I then saw him kneel, dragging my shorts and panties down with him.

Oh, God. I was so going to limp down the aisle tomorrow.

Without more chance to prepare, I felt Harry spread me apart and his lips against my hottest flesh. I jerked at the sudden assault, but then nearly collapsed as my knees threatened to give out, just as Harry's tongue found my wet opening.

Sliding inside, I felt him taste my cream before sucking gently at my pulsing clit, increasing the pressure as my body melted beneath his lips. A moan ripped from my throat and I held on to the counter for dear life as Harry began a torturously slow rhythm, sucking my clit, licking me up my folds, and tasting my dripping core over and over again, until I couldn't think anymore.

Moans spilled from me, breathy, needy whimpers and cries as his mouth fed on me with the patience of a man who hadn't eaten in a decade. As his rhythm grew faster and my moans grew louder, I knew it wouldn't be long before we alerted someone in the house. And still, Harry didn't relent.

My orgasm came fast and hard, slamming into me with the force of a meteor. I cried out his name, felt him rumble against my cunt whilst drinking up my generous juices. How I managed to stay on my feet was pure science fiction.

Finally, after what felt like a century, I came down from my high and faintly sensed Harry getting up behind me. His hands stayed on my hips, holding me steady as I clung to the counter for support. My legs were trembling like a newborn foal and my pussy was throbbing harder than my pulse.

Breathe. Inhale air. Use lungs and make oxygen.

But my body refused to cooperate even as Harry leaned in over me and kissed me up my spine. I stayed panting against the counter, trying to gather my thoughts.

"I... that was..." I wheezed out breathlessly, only to feel Harry's lips quirk up against my skin.

"My favorite cake to eat," He finished, pressing a kiss to my sweaty neck.

"You..." I started to say, wanting to rebuff his cocky comment, when all of a sudden I smelled something burnt. "Oh, shit! The cakes!"

And that's how we found ourselves having to start all over on our wedding cake, Harry being not at all helpful the rest of the evening.

Then again, as he said... his favorite cake had already been sampled tonight, and something told me he was going for seconds tomorrow.

• • •

Am I getting too cheesy with these quotes, lmao? Alright, I'll stop.