His Private Chef (by Amycee) novel Chapter 58

Chapter 58

My hands gripped the sheets, my breath ragged. Liam had turned into something else. A

beast. A storm.

And God… I liked it.

He thrust harder, faster, one hand gripping my hip, the other sliding under to toy with that sensitive bundle of nerves until I was choking on moans.

When I came, it wasn’t soft or shy, it ripped through me like fire. I screamed his name again and again, my body convulsing around him.

He wasn’t far behind.

With a groan that sounded more animal than man, he followed me over the edge.

We collapsed in a sweaty, shaking heap.

And still, he didn’t move away.

He held me.

His hand smoothed over my back, down my thigh, as if reassuring himself I was still there.

I’d never felt so wanted.

So taken.

So ruined.

Because now I knew–I would never want anyone else again.

Liam was soft after.

Gentle.

He cleaned me up, kissed my shoulder, whispered things I couldn’t hear properly through the haze of exhaustion and satisfaction.

We tangled in the sheets again. We touched. Talked. Laughed a little. And yes, we went

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Chapter 58

again, maybe twice–before sleep finally claimed us.

And like he’d promised, his name was the only one I screamed all night.

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I woke to an empty bed.

The space where Liam had been was warm, but vacant.

Panic flared in my chest. I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest, heart thudding.

Where was he?

Had I misread everything?

Did he leave?

I was two seconds from spiraling when I heard it, soft footsteps down the hallway.

The door opened.

And there he was.

Liam walked in carrying a tray with both hands, shirtless, hair a mess, that crooked grin on his face.

“Good morning, chef,” he said. “Thought I’d serve you for a change.”

I blinked. “You made breakfast?”

He placed the tray over my lap and sat on the edge of the bed, watching me like a proud kid who had just finished a science project.

I stared at the eggs, the toast that looked slightly… dark, and the bacon that was aggressively crispy.

I tried not to laugh.

“Wait,” I said, a smirk tugging at my lips. “You’re not trying to poison me, are you?”

He raised a brow. “Rude. I put my heart into this.”

“Oh, it’s the thought that counts, right?”

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Chapter 58

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He nodded. “Exactly. I mean, I picked up a few things during that lockdown storm situation. I watched you work. Took notes.”

I took a careful bite.

He waited.

“How is it?” he asked.

“Do you want the truth or do you want me to flatter you?”

He winced. “Hit me with the truth.”

I swallowed and smiled sweetly. “It’s horrible.”

Liam groaned, collapsing back onto the bed with a laugh. “Knew I should’ve just ordered in.”

“No, no–it’s endearing. Like watching a toddler try to paint a masterpiece.”

“I forgot you’re a chef,” he muttered.

“Who says you can’t impress one in the kitchen?” I teased, taking an exaggerated bite.

He shot me a look, half daring, half amused–as if to say wanna bet?

“Okay, fine,” I added. “I’ll make us something edible.”

“Deal.”

I slipped out of bed, pulling his oversized shirt around me. It hung almost to my knees and smelled like him.

When I stepped into the kitchen…

I screamed.

“Liam!”

He came running in, looking genuinely alarmed. “What? What happened?”

“What happened in this kitchen!” I pointed at the stove, the three pots he’d somehow used just to make eggs and bacon, and the trail of flour across the counter like a storm had passed through.

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Chapter 58

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