She'd been planning this day for weeks. He didn't celebrate holidays much, just marked the time passing. But she meant to change that. Holidays should be special, she mused happily. Valentine's Day especially! It's the perfect day to celebrate being alive and in love, a day to enjoy! He'd had to work that morning, but the evening she intended to be devoted only to him.
She mentally checked off her list. The steaks and baked potatoes were resting on the table. The salad? Check. Rolls? Check. Green beans? Peaches? Check, and check. Candles? Check. Cake? The cake?! Where had she put it? Oh yes, right there next to the plates. A very pretty spice cake, heart-shaped of course, no icing, just a dusting of powdered sugar... it did look delicious. I need to relax, she thought idly. Napkins? I forgot the napkins! Calm down. Everything will be fine, she told herself as she raced off frantically to find them.
She was a very strong woman, and it had taken her a long time to find the right man. He'd given her the strength to look inside herself, to know who she was and what she wanted. He had helped her break down the defensive walls she'd built up in her lifetime- expectation, self-consciousness (she still struggled with that one), and propriety. He'd taught her everything she knew, showed her the naturally submissive streak hiding behind her everyday facade. He had been the one to show her that it was ok to allow the beautiful, wanton, sensual woman she was to be released. He knew she wasn't perfect, and didn't demand that she be, only that she be the best she could. She swiped a peach from the bowl, nibbling thoughtfully.
She loved him so! He had helped make her what she was, and she wanted to thank him for it, to give him just a glimpse of what she felt in his hands. He'd given her free rein tonight for the first time, and she intended to use her time well. One time a year, he'd told her, she could take charge. He'd been surprised when she'd chosen Valentine's Day. He'd never liked the 'hearts and flowers' holiday before- too commercial, he'd said. She smiled wickedly. Oh, but he would enjoy it this time. He had no idea what she had planned, probably thought she'd just make him dinner and take him to bed. Which was true, well... to an extent anyway. She checked the clock- still five minutes until he came home. She ran upstairs to be sure that everything was in place. Everything was fine, just as it had been when she'd checked the first time, and again the second. Ok, and the third time too.
She heard the hum of his car's engine as it pulled into the drive. She slipped off her frilly apron and ran to the mirror to check her appearance one last time. She'd never had much use for cosmetics, but he liked her to wear them. Her eyes, hazel green and long lashed, were lined tonight in black, making them appear deeper, more exotic. Her lips were slicked a deep rose. She'd pulled her hair up into a bouncy ponytail, letting it spill in a waterfall of auburn down her back, cascading down between her bare shoulders. She adjusted her outfit, the tiny bells ringing softly as she twitched her hip scarf into place. She grabbed her surprise, then raced to the door, barely stilling the chiming that accompanied her movement before the door opened and he stepped inside. Good heavens he's handsome! she thought wildly. He had barely turned from hanging up his coat when she threw her arms around him. "Happy Valentine's Day Sugar!" she purred as she pulled his head down for a deep, hot, soul-stealing kiss.
His lips were warm and welcoming, and they parted in surprise as she nipped his lower lip. She slipped her tongue inside his mouth to tangle with his, hers tasting faintly of peaches. Before she knew it, she was drowning in his kiss, in the heat of his body, in the taste of him. His earthy scent overwhelmed her as she surrendered completely to his kiss. She lost herself in his embrace for a moment, running her hands through the softness of his beard before recalling her plans. Pouring more of herself into the kiss to distract him, her hand began to travel down his shoulder. Upon reaching his wrist, she fastened her surprise- one of her own leather cuffs, around it. Deepening the kiss, she reached for the other hand, sliding the cuff around his wrist intently. Trying vainly to ignore his knowing smirk, that wicked little laugh of his.
"Just what do you think you're doing, my little honey tart?" he chuckled. She said nothing, but grabbed his wrists and clipped the cuffs together behind his back.
When she had both of his hands fastened behind him, she whirled away. "Wishing you a happy Valentine's day milord!" she smiled, curtseying deeply. She peeked upward from her position, pleased to see his eyes gone wide with surprise as they roamed over her. She straightened to stand tall, thrusting her hip forward; her shoulders arched back proudly as his eyes wandered her body, his lust becoming more evident with each moment. She twitched her leg, and the chiming of the tiny bells around her ankle drew his gaze down to her bare foot. She watched him closely, seeing the approval in his eyes as he looked over the ruby-colored gauze skirt sprinkled with golden sequins. She saw desire catch hold as they traveled up her body, the heavily beaded scarf on her hips sparkling wildly. His breathing hitched as his vision settled on her breasts and stomach, completely veiled, but only just, by a bright wine-red, haltered top fringed in gold. Tiny gilded coins dangled below, dancing over her pale skin. She shimmied once, just to watch his eyes go dark, then froze as his gaze lifted to her face. Stunned at the power, the blazing look of lust she saw there, she shivered. He started to reach forward, but was stopped by the cuffs. She saw him go still, then remembered the reason.
An impish smile crossed her face as she stepped forward, confident once more, her hips rolling wantonly and setting her bells jingling. She reached up and cupped his face in her hands, her fingers tangling in his beard as she pulled him down for a soft kiss. "Come with me," she murmured as she nibbled at his lips. "I've more surprises for you." He followed her; the subtle vanilla scent of her skin mixing delightfully with the smell of freshly baked bread that filled the hall. Holding his arm as he'd held hers so many times before, she led him to the dinning room. He stopped in the doorway, stunned into silence.
Candlelight flickered over the room, sparkling silver and gold on the china, the serving dishes, the candlesticks. A single crimson rose lay across his plate. The music of soft, lilting harp strings played in the background. His heart tightened in his chest as he stared around the room, his face carefully blank. The silence lengthened. Beginning to feel anxious, she shifted beside him, her little bells sounding nervously. "I know you said... holidays were nothing special." she began, "but I... thought I'd... show you tonight... just how you make me feel... With you, I'm always, well, cherished... protected... loved." she ended on a whisper. His silence continued, his eyes traveling over the table, the feast she'd laid before him. She'd even remembered his favorite wine, though she didn't drink herself. "You said... I could do anything tonight," she murmured. Still he didn't speak, didn't look at her. Her heart sank. "I'm sorry... I know you don't like Valentine's Day much, but I..." her head bowed, "I just wanted to make you feel special." she ended miserably.
He cleared his throat. "You did this for me?" he asked gruffly. She nodded, not looking at him. He nudged her with his shoulder so that she glanced up at him. He smiled. "Thank you," he said simply, "for loving me this much." Her own smile was nearly blinding as she beamed at him, all fears forgotten, thrilled to have pleased him. She led him to his chair, settling him before pulling her own chair close. Holding his bound hands in hers, she said grace for both of them. She then leaned over to kiss his fingers, drawing the tip of one into her mouth and gliding her tongue teasingly over and around his smooth, warm skin before releasing him.
He shivered once, then regained his control to grin at her. "Now how am I supposed to enjoy what looks to be a wonderful meal without use of my hands?" he asked with a smile.
In answer, she sliced off a choice bit of the steak and offered it to him. Surprised for a moment, he just looked at her. She lifted a brow in challenge, and he opened his lips hesitantly to accept the tender offering. It was cooked perfectly, just the way he liked it. The meal continued that way, with her selecting the best morsels for him, relaxing him with idle talk about the day. The food was fabulous, everything luscious and perfect. Toward the end of the meal, she picked up a slice of peach and popped it into her mouth, her tongue peeking out to lick the juice from her lips and fingertips. Seeing his eyes suddenly darken with desire again, she blushed. Tremulously, she chose another of the slices, and held it up to his lips. He took the slice of fruit, chewed, swallowed, and then licked at her fingers as she traced them over his lips. She sighed deeply, contentedly. He'd been uncertain at first, but had come to appreciate that there was something extremely erotic about her feeding him. Maybe it was the way she kept stroking his leg as she leaned into him, or the way her body was pressed up against his, or perhaps the way he could glance down at her beautiful breasts as she turned toward him. Whatever it was, as the dinner ended, he found himself in a very... excited state. But then, so was she. He could feel it in her occasional trembling, could smell it as she leaned close, could hear it in her quiet sighs.