Your hands were pressing the flour and creamed sugar mixture together on the counter when you felt the familiar heat and weight at your back, hands sneaking their way around your hips.
"They arent even close to done yet."
His mouth nipped at the crook of your neck, front flush against your back as he mumbled something muffled and unintellegible against your skin.
"The raw eggs will make you sick. Nice try."
The whine that came from the man sounded more like a wounded animal if anything.
"How 'bout a distraction then, hm?" He murmured against the crook of you neck fingers slipping towards the waistband of your sweatpants slowly, pleading.
"Not a chance." You hummed amusedly, shifting to dislodge his wandering hands. "You'll have to wait."
And he was left huffing in defeat and shuffling over to the couch, falling forward to muffle his groan into a pillow.
