Sitting on the hard passenger seat, Nate tries in vain to stretch and shake the restlessness out of his legs when he has barely enough space for them folded up in the confined space of this old car. 

He doesn't remember it has been this uncomfortable on the outward journey, probably because of the excitement. But now the awkwardness of the last discussion and the prospect of 'going home' are narrowing the small space inside and outside.

It isn't only his legs that are agitated, and his gaze is running all over each of Anastasia's little gestures. 

Holding tightly the steering wheel, she is leading him he doesn't know where. He has no landmarks, yet he doesn't even look at the road. His eyes are glued on his mystery, wrapped in a simple blue tank top and tight jeans. Her gaze is focused on the road, and the determinate frown creasing slightly her eyebrows is titillating his curiosity. 

The smallest movement of the muscles of her shoulders tensing and relaxing is fully exposed to his hungry eyes with her hair tied up and her flimsy top, while he's thought he has lost any appetite minutes ago, and she must sense the intensity of his stare as she turns her head back to him.

"What's the emergency?" He can't take it anymore; he needs to know if he should be worried or if he can enjoy the light excitement coming back on his skin.

"I wanted to be just us."

The relief washes over him, also tickling his skin until forming a smile on his lips.

"And where are we going?"

'Home', she keeps the word locked tightly on her lips with the bite of her teeth.

"To a safe place." She chooses carefully her answer with an enigmatic smile, and when he follows her twinkling gaze, he recognizes immediately the road of his childhood. 

An irresistible urge to kiss her seizes him, but he holds back, clenching his fists and jiggling restlessly his hemmed in legs. This would be dangerous: she is driving, and this road is still too followed.

So he stays in his uncomfortable position, and the silence comes back for the rest of the drive, yet it isn't a heavy, awkward one, rather the light echo of their safe bubble getting nearer as he's already picturing what will happen there...

His lips on hers... That's what has been on his mind since his first bite of cake at the bakery: tasting the sweetness of her mouth, and that's the first thing he does.

Before she can even set her two feet on the white floorboard, his lips are claiming hers hungrily, and she is met by the hint of intense chocolate and subtle sweetness mixing on the warmth of his mouth.

Her taste buds are reawakened instantly, along with all her nerves, and he is sending her heart in a frenzy of uneven thumps with just a hand on her jaw and his lips. 

His lips... there is a fierce passion in the way he is crashing them on hers, and it is echoing all the emotions she has felt since they have entered the cake shop a few hours ago: high, down, wrong, right, blue, red, white... everything. 

Could he have felt the same? 

She breaks away from the kiss, trying to catch her breath, and maybe something else, yet his ardent lips are already sliding down her jaw, taking more and more.

"Hey!" She leans back, showing him her playful smile as she grabs the bag hanging from his right hand. "We still have a tasting to finish!" 

He almost whines when she slips away from his grasp, but it ends up in an excited moan as he catches sight of the devious sparkle in her eyes. 

His appetite is back, even more sharpened, and he rushes to help her open the white boxes on the coffee table near the bed. 

The pure white cardboard of the boxes is covered with fine silver letters forming the legal principles of marriage, yet they get discarded without second thoughts,  and the open boxes and paper plates of desserts end up in messy sheets, where in the middle, Anastasia surprises herself resting there.

She doesn't care about the untidiness, the crumbs, or the possible stains as she takes a small piece of cake, tasting the generous frosting, and she even less thinks of all the questions that have been on her mind a few moments ago. They are in their safe bubble.

She grins widely, taking in a full puff of peacefulness and excitation when Nathaniel comes back from the fridge with a bottle in his hand and a ravenous, dark promise in his eyes, which is only drawing her closer.

As soon as he sits down, she crawls and straddles his hips, offering him the pale yellow cake he has never got to taste, and it is an innocent, yet incredibly sinful euphoria, watching him bite in the spongy cake between her fingers.

His large smile is still hinting on his cheeks and crinkling his eyes as he slowly chews the sweet dessert. The light crunches of something nutty under his teeth tingle all her senses, and she breathes in the sugar-coated scent escaping his lips so close to hers while an indescribable craving is stirring in her stomach.

Her gaze follows the moves of his Adam's apple as he swallows slowly, and then she glances up just in time to see his tongue slip out to collect the white cream left on his lips. It is even more delightful than eating the cake.

Yet she bites the remaining bit of the mini-cake, desperately needing to taste something, and she is disappointed by the faint flavor of almonds and the emptiness under her teeth. 

So she wraps her arms around his neck, melting closer in his warmth and taking in his spicy perfume mingling with the sweetness all around as she presses softly her lips on the velvety skin of his neck.

"Which one?" he whispers huskily against the shell of her ear as his hands are roaming smoothly all over her back.

"Hmm..." She pulls away to try to focus on the pastries spread beside them, though with the hunger growing in her core, only one is catching her eyes in all the white and pastel.

"This one." She points to the bright orangey pastry, and when he reads out loud the white card next to it, it fits perfectly the scene in front of her: the angular cake he grabs delicately in his strong hand, the lustful look in his tenebrous eyes, and the loud rhythm of her heart.

"Passion."

He presses the creamy side on her slightly open lips, and she trails the tip of her tongue on the bright icing, keeping her gaze solely on his. Their foreheads touching, he is so close that she is getting lost in his dark eyes, and in this intimacy, as she captures a bite of the dessert in her mouth.

The peppy, fruity savors instantly explode on her tongue, and he chooses this moment to lift her arms and slide off her tank top, spreading the fizzy sparks on her skin as his hands graze every exposed inch.

With every move of her jaw, she rocks her hips against him, basking in each sensation fully.

"Is it good?" he rasps, talking about the dessert, even though he is hypnotized by her arching silhouette as his fingers are already massaging her plump breasts through the lacy fabric of her pale pink bra.

"Exquisite..."

He's forgetting the cakes slowly but surely in front of his angel, dazed and shirtless, and her breathless tone is only accelerating his dizziness. He forgets everything around Anastasia, even basic needs like eating and drinking are less important than his primal hunger for her.

"Try it." She glances around, a little light-headed, for the other piece of cake, but he grabs her chin to pull her attention back to him.

"Let me taste it here." He traces her sweet lips with the tip of his tongue before kissing her fully.

It is exactly the nuance she has been missing to the perfect climax on her taste buds, and the desire is melting in her veins as his tongue explores every inch of her mouth to savor the fruity sweetness mixing with her inner flavor.

"Exquisite," he hums on her lips, his eyes still closed as she wanders her hands from his hair to the skin under his shirt over and over again.

"And after?" she breathes out.

He is pulling her lower lip between his teeth, sucking and nibbling, with a darkening voracious look, and she doesn't know if she wants to continue the tasting to discover all these flavors on the tip of her tongue, or if the excitation tingling her core is too much and she just needs him to unravel it.

Though there might be another possibility as he interrupts her dazed hesitation by laying her on the bed in one swift motion, earning a surprised squeal from her open lips. 

She props on her elbows, realizing exactly what she is craving as he takes his sweet time to remove his tee-shirt, revealing his mouth-watering chiseled chest, and then crawls back to her. It is almost unfolding in slow motion, and her heart is accentuating this impression with each fast bang against her ribcage.

He pulls his lips to the side in a contemplative smile as his eyes wander the pastries here and there, yet his penetrating gaze is tremendously determined each time he glances at Anastasia, and even more when he leaves a feather-like kiss just below her navel. 

The faint touch is tickling her inside until her core, and it makes her overlook the pop of the buttons of her jeans. So she lets out a spontaneous giggle when he tugs on the tight fabric, and his fast movements are pulling her with it, although he's quick to have his way with the pants... and her.

With her delicate body finally and almost fully exposed to his eyes, Nate can't even consider the fine sweets around anymore. 

A hunger is taking over from his insides, something he has never felt before: a hunger for her soft body, for the tempting sparkle in her eyes, for her sharp brain, for her passionate determination, for the ethereal sound of her laugh, a craving to hear her subtle moans, to draw a smile on her rosy lips, to take her as high as she makes him feel... It's insatiable, and it's consuming him slowly.

He gives her one last once-over, which is rushing more blood to his shaft with every inch crossed, and then he focuses on the tiny cups in a cardboard base a little farther away with the same desire in mind.

As she carefully follows his gaze, he can see that his sinful idea is appearing clearly to her eyes, yet from the way they're widening, is it too much for her? He swallows the lump building in his throat with the fear of being 'too much' for her and all his nerves, and she wipes it all out with a slow, knowing, and willing smile. 

His heart bursts into raptures of desire and more eagerness, and it's guided by these erratic bangs that he grabs two cups: one light amber-brown like the few remaining shades in her eyes, and the other, shiny dark like the desire engulfing both of their gazes and melting in their veins.

"Dulce de leche." The pink writing of the card sounds hoarse between his dry lips, and as he dips his index finger in the generous cream, he notices the faint line it creases between her eyebrow, the thumb of his other hand instantly reaching to ease it. "What?"

"It's too sweet..." she protests, yet she still licks the tip of his finger to taste it.

"No, there's no such thing as 'too sweet'," he defends, plunging two fingers in the sweet, milky cream before sliding them down her throat and the lines of her bra. "It's sweet and addictive... just like you." He illustrates his point, diving his lips to suck the sweet path he's just traced, and making sure to clean with care her silky skin.

He could devour her. No, in fact, he could melt into her. The hint of her unique fruity perfume is adding to the rich caramel cream, along with a pinch of salty from their previous activities a few hours ago. This is the finest delicacy he's ever tasted, and her sweet moans are filling his ears deliciously. 

All his senses are overloaded with her, his hardness twitching, and he's savoring and salivating in desire when she takes his hand and licks the cream left on his finger.

The sweetness is slowly gaining her, wrapping her in a luscious euphoria, or maybe it's Nathaniel's passionate mouth savoring her skin?

She is arching for more under the teasing tip of his tongue, and he probably senses her impatience, discarding her bra in no time.

"Or chocolate?" He grabs the other cup with a devilish smirk, but his tone is as breathless as her gasps as she watches him transfixed, inclining inch by inch the small container. 

A first drop of thick, dark icing falls on the curve of her lower lip, to then turns into a trickle from the edges of her clavicles. Goosebumps arise on her burning skin at the contact of the cold substance, and they travel until her throbbing core when he pours a thin stream of chocolate exactly on the perky peaks of her breasts, her skin only firing more at the thought of what will follow.

He makes sure to drop the entire content of the cup, finishing the path right above her lacy, and now wet, panties, and she doesn't know how her aching core will survive the torturous road. She can't even prepare for it as he immediately attaches his mouth to the starting point, his tongue diving languorously into the crevasses of her clavicles. 

He follows diligently the path painted, sucking and lapping clean every inch of chocolate closer and closer of her peaking nubs, yet his tongue never strays from the way, and she can see he is enjoying teasing her with each glance from his penetrating eyes. This draws out the helpless moans from her lips faster, in synch with her racing heart and pulsating core, all synchronized like a perfect harmony of singing sensations. 

She is lost in her perceptions, and when his lips finally stop on the awaiting point of her left breast, there aren't any thoughts left in her brain; she is just a buzzing of heightened senses.

She lets her own tongue gather the droplet of chocolate on her lip at the same time that his swirls on her stiff peak, and when he captures the nub between his teeth, the hint of bitterness in her mouth echoes the light sting from his teeth on her sensitive tip, his satisfied hums vibrating on her skin until her core. 

She is all senses and sensations, a surreal, ethereal feeling, yet deviously lustful, and she lets him see it all as her eyes are boring into his tenebrous gaze and she runs her fingers through his voluptuous curls, driving him wilder.

He is traveling his mouth from one side to another like he is starving, and he is sating her with pleasure. With each movement of his tongue, he connects more nerve-endings, all tingling and tensing, and the path of chocolate is turning into an electric fuse wire leading the way to the explosive core.

"Which one do you like the best?" he murmurs on the finish line, the smooth skin of her lower belly twitching under the tickles of his hot breath.

"Nathaniel..." she moans, tugging fiercely at his curls.

"I was talking about the icing, but thanks!" He chuckles, though inside he's a melting effusion, and when her eyes light up upon his words, his apparent cockiness instantly disappears in a wind of breath sucked through his teeth. 

She sits up, easily leading him to lay on his back as his strong body dissolves under her touch. "I gotta taste too." 

In an instant, she's switched the roles, and now, he is the one helpless and drooling as she glances around the bed before her eyes land back on him, her teeth nipping on her bottom lip sinfully, yet so naturally. 

In her gaze, nothing is calculated; this is herself without barrier, and this is what is taking his breath away.

"Thirsty?" She hands him the bottle with an inviting smile.

"Yes, but I don't think this will quench my thirst." His piercing gaze stays on her as he drinks from the bottle, the fizzy bubbles titillating and exacerbating his craving for Anastasia, especially with the way her breathing is as uneven as his.

She takes a sip too, tasting his chocolaty lips on the neck of the bottle as the alcohol is awakening more her heightened senses. Yet this is not the flavor she is looking for.

At this point, the throbbing in her core is almost unbearable; however, she resumes with her quest for the perfect taste. 

The reason for this cake tasting is long forgotten. Now she is just driven by her body to arrive together with Nathaniel to the perfect explosion of senses, and it leads her fingers to dig into a cup.

"Dulce de leche? You see, sweet is addictive." A smile illuminates his dark eyes.

"Yeah, but it just missed something..."

"Passion." The word is just a breathless pant that she's catching with her slender finger traveling down his chest and leaving an orange trail on its way; nonetheless, it feels inked in his skin.

She's tracing the lines and edges of each muscle in a mesmerizing contrast of bright orange and amber-brown on his pale skin, and no inch of skin is forgotten, certainly not the embossed skin of his scar, which is enhanced in shiny orange. Not even the belt of his pants is stopping her as she fumbles with it to finally end up her journey with a last drop on the clearly visible tip of the bulge of his boxers.

His chest is heaving more and more with the anticipation; however, breathing becomes an impossible task when she draws a full lick with her flat tongue all along the center line of his abs, from bottom until his Adam's apple.

Her tongue is like a burning flare lighting fire on its way. He can't move; he just watches, hypnotized, the sensual sight of his almost naked angel burning him to hell wrapped in a sweet halo. 

Her gaze is focused on the sugary path in a hazy darkness, and each stroke of her tongue and kiss of her lips are tensing and loosening his muscles under. 

As for her hips, they're swaying lightly on his now painful crotch, and he can't determine if it's to tease him or to pleasure herself, but both hypotheses are dizzying, flooding all the sensations she is rousing through him down there, propelled by his hammering heart.

"Ana," he groans when she reaches his most tensed muscle, leaving an open-mouthed kiss that makes the pre-come soak through the fabric of his boxers.

The light touch of her lips feels like an electric shock, and added to the way she leans away to slip her tongue over her lips, it's striking him out of his trance. 

He grabs her chin pulling her to his lips again, and at the same time that her smoothness meets him, the fruity passion hits him, followed by the sugar of the amber toffee wrapping around in perfect harmony with the daring swirls of her tongue. He deepens the kiss, trying to perceive every shade of these flavors, which both satisfy and arise his yearning for her.

"Perfect," he hums on her lips.

"Almost... it needs some texture..." She draws his lower lip between her teeth, and she supposes he agrees as much thanks to his nod as to his hands sliding and grazing her skin like in search of what to grasp until they reach her hips.

There, he takes off her flimsy panties smoothly, almost discreetly, yet her sensitive skin is hyper-aware of the soft gesture, and it is dizzying when his gaze turns to the cakes by their side, and his fingers keep their gentle treatment on her skin from the curve of her butt to the tender skin of her inner thighs.

When he takes his hands away to remove his boxers and then, leans away, she is lost in unknown territory with all these mixed signals, and all her senses are standing on alert as he picks a small round cake.

"A chou bun?" She realizes with a closer look at the pastry he is dipping in their two chosen creams.

"Yes, I'm craving everything's French." His ravenous gaze is unequivocal as he lays her back on the mattress, hovering over her, and she is left speechless, her voice, along with her reason and her breath, lost somewhere inside her chest and annihilated by the fast bangings of her heart.

He presses the curvy pastry on her lips at the same time that his hard length pokes against her wetness, and all her nerves jump on edge at these two mere contacts. He is holding her gaze, waiting patiently, even though all of his muscles are tensed, and this strains the pull on her overstrung nerve-endings. 

She takes a bite in the chou bun, and he pushes into her at the exact same moment, earning a long moan from her sugar-coated lips. Every sensation is exacerbated, and he makes sure she is experiencing them all as he goes very slow, inch by inch, making her clutch to his shoulders tighter.

When he fills her completely, he takes the remaining bite of the cake in his mouth and finally kisses her passionately. With this simple but meaningful gesture, the pressure that has been built slowly until now is already threatening to explode, yet his thrusts are drawn out and leisurely, like their lips, as they savor each flavor.

She can't really feel the exact taste of the dessert. It is just an eruption of senses magnifying each other. The zesty fruit is intensifying the tinglings sparking with each meeting of their hips; the caramel sweetness is heightening the euphoria in their veins, and the chou bun's texture is adding voluptuousness to their dancing tongues. 

Her heart is beating so fast in this frenzy of overwhelming sensations, while everything stays slow and sensual, as if they are flying back to heaven in a burning whirlwind.

"Parfait," she moans.

This is the only word to describe it, even if it is only in their very own meaning.

"Perfect," he echoes in a breathless whisper, and she feels it more than she hears it: the sugary halting syllables, the widening smile melting on her swollen lips, and every part of his body humming this word to her.

He seals their lips fully again in another kiss, and every part of their bodies is marvelously blending like each ingredient of the cake, even their sinful pants and drunk gazes. 

Her heart soars in this perfect instant, and her body is trying to follow it, arching to him, as it feels like millions of butterflies are spreading their wings and fluttering in sparks under her skin.

"Nathaniel!"

His hips become more urgent, rushing to leap together in this high, and it sends her over the edge, or more exactly flying her to an overwhelming height where she bursts out midair in pure bliss, all her heightened senses making her experience deeply each spark of this ethereal euphoria.

She takes Nathaniel with her in this transcendental adventure as her pulsations pull him with her, and he shakes uncontrollably above her before tensing and shoving his throbbing length one last time deep inside her.

A burning swirl invades his veins, flooding him from and towards the point where they are forming one. But this is more than just a physical connexion, more than their bodies tangling and fitting perfectly. It's all their intensified sensations merging and exploding together, propelling them higher.

They stay there for a moment in zero gravity in a blinding and colorful haze of euphoria while their bodies convulse together, and then they float back slowly to reality, their senses and their souls returning back to their spent, liquid members as they collapse in a tangled, limp form.

"Perfect," he finally says, still breathless, after some time.

Minutes, hours, days? She doesn't know; they have just escaped time and space in this ethereal leap, and she can only hum dizzily in agreement.

He laps a small drop of cream left on her collarbone before pulling out of her, making her lose this intangible notion of perfection. Yet she can sense it still within easy reach as he wraps her closer in his arms, and she feels the loud thuds of his heart under her palm.

She lets the still erratic rhythm lull her as her gaze trails around absentmindedly, though her half-closed lids quickly open wider.

"We've made a mess!" Her brain is coming out from whatever blank daze it has been in at the sight around them.

However, she still doesn't seem to care about the mess of spilled boxes, crumbs, and drops of icing spread out everywhere on the white sheets. The once perfectly presented and aligned cakes are now laid out up and down, curvy forms mixing with angular textures, and a little farther their clothes are dispersed on the floor. Yet it looks right.

"We did!" He chuckles, removing a crumb of dark cake in her golden, wild locks.

"How will I go home and pretend that I just went to a cake tasting?" The world outside their safe bubble sadly sneaks back to the front of her mind as she looks down at her chest covered in red marks and sticky sugar.

"That's what we did I think..." He puckers his lips to the side, half playfully, half thoughtfully considering it. "But you can go wash. The shower is there." He points to the door on the opposite corner, which she has assumed as another entrance.

"A shower in a childhood treehouse?" She scoffs. "Of course! I should have expected it!"

"Are you making fun of me?" He lifts an eyebrow, his grin never faltering and tickling her giggles as she shakes her head.

"No, it's just surreal... like everything here." 

Her gaze is surreal as she turns back to him. With the light coming back and illuminating the green shades, it makes him feel like he can discover all the mysteries hidden inside, and the pure, sated glow shining just for him is highlighting this impression in each golden sparkle, sweeter than the creamy dulce de leche. His mind is coloring in all these tints, any other thoughts fading under the luminous shades.

Thus, he jumps slightly when she pecks his lips and sits up, pulling him away from his colorful trance. 

She wraps her arms around herself, shyly hiding, and the need to cover every inch with kisses and attention until she's confident with her delicious body is itching his lips and fingers. 

But she's already concealing it, and his disappointment is immediately replaced with awe when he realizes she's wearing his tee-shirt. 

He's torn between the urge to tear it off and the longing to watch her like this forever. It's one of the most unlikely combinations, and it shouldn't be, yet just like their unique dessert of dulce de leche and passion, it is a perfect ensemble.

"Can I join?" He makes her stop in her tracks just in front of the bathroom door. "You know... to save water..." He grins sheepishly.

"If it's for the planet..." Her smile matches his with the same devious sparkle.

So... Did you expect this wedding cake tasting to go like this? 😏🔥😋

I hope I sated your appetite with this chapter, or whetted it more? 😉

Anyway, let me know your thoughts and vote if you liked this chapter and want more steamy-sweet chapters like this! 😉

I will never say it enough, but your support and feedback mean the world to me! You illuminate my days, my little rays of sunshine 🌞❤😘

PS: For those who didn't guess it, parfait = perfect 😉