Page 28

CHAPTER 28

Dante was right. The glow melded and flowed, turning a rich purple where the stone and glass met. It was a message, and not a subtle one.

“Maarja…” He nuzzled the side of her neck, her ear, the hollow of her shoulder, her breast.

Goose bumps shimmered across her skin, and she ran her fingers through his scalp, the black hair so dense she could feel it in the texture and the weight. And when he clamped his mouth around her nipple and sucked, she clutched at his neck and bit off a moan.

He whispered against her skin. “All the things we didn’t do the first time, we’ll do tonight. From your scalp to your toes, Maarja, I’m going to taste you.”

“I got home from work. I haven’t had a shower!”

Not worried at all, he chuckled, and moving to her other breast, he sucked again. “The scent of a woman, my woman…is an aphrodisiac.”

“You’re crazy.”

He smiled like an evil genius. “You don’t know what your own chatte tastes like, do you? Because you’ve never had a man suck you, lick you until you scream. I like your flavor; it’s as if you were created to my preference. Primitive and salty.”

“I, um, may have…” TMI! TMI!! Shut up, Maarja!

“Put your fingers into yourself and licked them?” The gold in his eyes heated and flowed, merged into golden delight and hot desire.

“I was a virgin, not a nun. I own a vibrator, you know!” If she thought that would put him in his place, she was sadly mistaken.

Instead his voice descended another octave. “How many speeds? How many different vibrations? How often do you use it? When can I use it on you?”

Really, she talked too much.

“Let’s try this.” He left her standing there, went to the bed, removed the chocolates and one black silk sleep mask, and tossed the covers onto the floor. He dropped the chocolates onto the nightstand and came back to her. “I won’t hurt you. I won’t betray you.”

“I know.”

“Do you trust me?”

She began to have an inkling of his intentions, but she answered steadily. “I do.”

Slowly, so she could stop him if she wished, he slid the mask over her eyes. She froze in place. The darkness was absolute, every vestige of light blocked. She stood in her panties and slippers, deprived of her sight and dependent on Dante.

In a soothing tone sure to tame the wildest creature, he said, “I love your footwear, but I’d like to remove them.” When she merely nodded, he asked, “Maarja, is that all right?”

“Yes.”

Again he knelt at her feet. Taking her hand, he placed it on his shoulder and lifted first one foot, then the other. With two soft thumps, he tossed the slippers, and she found herself standing barefooted on the rough-textured rug. Sliding his palms up the backs of her legs, he cupped her bottom and held it in one hand, then used the other to strip off her panties. “Doing okay?” he asked.

She nodded, then remembered he wanted her to speak. “Yes. But I feel very…nude.” As if she stood on a stage with the spotlight on her, and she couldn’t see the audience.

“Gloriously nude,” he crooned. “Magnificently nude. For me. For me alone. Spread your legs for me. Maarja, a little more. So I can… Yes, like that.”

She waited, jumped when his fingers touched her, opened her, and jumped again when he put his mouth on her. He tongued her and in less than ten seconds, he took her from wariness to ninety-miles-an-hour arousal. She braced her feet. She gripped his shoulders. She fought for breath. She fought to keep silent. She didn’t know why that was important, only that it was. She was on the verge; another moment and she’d be lost in an orgasm so brilliant it would light up the dark.

He pulled away. “Not yet. Darling, not yet. Can you wait a little longer?”

She shook her head. “No. Now.”

She was getting anxious, or was it awkward? All the emotions were piling in here, urged forth by the dark and her nudity and his slightly clothed state and her barely halted orgasm. “Are you going to take off your underwear?” she asked.

“I did. Given incentive, this man can move swiftly.”

She reached out.

He stepped back. She didn’t know where he was, damn him. Damn him! She lifted her hands to throw off the mask.

He caught her wrists. “Trust. Remember?” He danced her backward. “The bed is behind you. Sit down.”

She hesitated.

“The sheets are clean and white and taut, and they smell as if they were dried on an outside line. Half a dozen pillows are stacked against the headboard, their cases crisp and waiting for the indents of our heads…or our knees…or we could use those pillows in any way we like.” He whispered, every word rife with insinuation. “Would you like to know how inventive I can be…with merely a single pillow?”

She sat.

“Is the sheet cool?” He knelt and picked up one of her feet. He kissed her toes, then smoothed something across the sole, around the ankle, over the bones that had suffered such abuse from her workouts.

As he massaged, at first gently, then more deeply, she wanted to moan for the pleasure of this unique seduction.

He prompted, “The sheet? Maarja? Is it cool against your bottom?”

She struggled to divide her thoughts. “Um, yes. And against—”

“Yes,” he crooned. “Concentrate on that. You’re flushing. From your chest to your cheeks, you’re getting rosy with desire.”

“Am I?” It startled her to comprehend how her body responded to this care he lavished on her, and even more to realize he observed her so closely.

He slid one oiled hand up her leg, her hip, her belly to her breasts, and massaged her nipple with his thumb. “Your breasts are swelling, and—” he smoothed up her chest, her throat, to her lips “—your lips. Are you swelling below? Where you touch the sheet? Can you feel that?”

“Yes…” She heard the moan in her voice.

“Yes.” With his fingers, he outlined the shape of her mouth. “Can you smell the lavender in the oil?”

“Yes.”

“Lavender promotes serenity. Are you serene?”

She was sightless. She was aroused. She was amazed. Anticipation gripped her… Serene she was not. “No.”

He chuckled. “No. Nor am I.”

Was that supposed to give her a sense of affinity?

His fingers disappeared, then reappeared on her foot. Moving her with extravagant care, he lifted it and placed it flat on the bed against her bottom. Which meant, with her knee crooked, one sole flat on the sheet and one foot on the floor, she was open to his view.

For a long torturous moment, he said nothing, moved not at all.

Abruptly uncomfortable, she tried to close herself.

He caught her. “No.” His voice was husky. He cleared his throat and more clearly said, “No. You’re so beautiful. Your clit, your labia beckon me to touch, to taste, to come inside and fuck you until I’m mindless.”

“Why don’t you?” Her husky tones matched his.

“Oblivion. We’re seeking oblivion for you .” His hands grasped her other foot and began rubbing again. “We’re not there yet.”