"Are you wet?"
Warm breath tickled my ear, driving me to the brink of orgasm. Dirty talk was my sexual drug of choice. Shot me right to the precipice of a high peak, perched on the rim, prepared for a stunning freefall into ecstasy. When his gaze slid down to the juncture of my thighs, heat bloomed in my cheeks, low in my belly, between my legs.
I ached in places that usually only came alive after long and intense stimulation of the solo kind. I lost myself in his mouth, languished in his kiss. In the slow, succulent movement of his lips. The sweet, sweet sensuality of it. The hardness of his chest against my breasts. The subtle rasp of his whiskers beneath my palms.
I had never experienced anything like the sensations I'd gotten during those minutes of his mouth on mine, his body pressing into me. I thought I had been ready that second time, but when he'd taken control I was still tingling from it. I took a deep breath and looked up.
God, his eyes. They were dark, like everything else about him, but it was a deep-blue rimmed with a border of navy or black that made his gaze that much more intense. It was a look that saw everything in an instant and I shivered under his piercing stare, not from fear or even from the cold, but from something I didn't have a name for.
"I have a surprise for you."
"What kind of surprise?" I asked. After last night, I wasn't sure how many more spontaneous announcements from him I could handle.
"If I tell you, then it wont be a surprise, will it?"
"Where is it?"
"That's part of the surprise too."
I walked over to him and slipped my arms around his neck.
"When do I get my surprise?"
Maybe I could seduce the information out of him.
"Soon."
"Meanie." With my lips pursed in a pout, I stepped back and crossed my arms over my breasts.
"I wish you wouldn't tease me with a surprise and then not deliver."
His laughter at my mock outrage rang through the room.
"No worries there, baby. I'll deliver, no problem."
He walked around me to the dresser, glancing at his watch lying there before turning his attention back to me.
"In fact, I think we're almost ready. Turn around."
"Why?"
"Well, I can't have you seeing your surprise until it's completely ready, now can I?" Brian took a tie off the dresser and dangled it in front of me.
"Feeling a little kinky tonight, are we?"
"Tonight, tomorrow night, the night after that. And that's why you love me."
Without another word he stepped behind me and placed the silk tie over my eyes, fastening it at the back of my head.
"Is it too tight?"
"No."
I had to lick my lips twice to get words to slip past them. I was nervous, yet excited all at the same time.
"Are you ready?"
His whisper into my ear had me shivering with anticipation. Although he hadn't suggested my surprise was anything sexual, I thought it might be. That was until he led me from the bedroom.
"Where are we going?"
"Surprise, remember, Shhh. Stop thinking so much. Tonight is all about feeling."
We stopped for a moment and I realized I'd been so intent on listening to his words, I had no idea where I was. I thought I remembered turning once, or was it twice? Hell, for all I knew, he had walked me in circles and we were back in the bedroom. Brian swept my hair away from my neck, sliding his lips sensuously over the exposed skin.
"What dirty thoughts are you having?"
I couldn't miss these little diamond points even if I was a blind man. The idea of what he might have planned for me had caused my breasts to peak in interest. His hands came up to pinch my nipples through the thin robe, causing me to squirm. He knew how much I liked that and he was deliberately teasing me.
"Well?"
I had to drag my mind back to the conversation at hand.
"Dirty thoughts, oh yeah, I had plenty of those, especially after last night."
"Is that all?"
He'd slipped his hand through the opening in my robe to stroke my stomach before dipping between my legs. Not surprisingly, I was wet from our conversation and my wandering imagination.
"You wouldn't happen to be thinking about last night, would you?"
"Uh-huh, there's no maybe about it".
I squirmed in his arms as I remembered my wantonness yesterday. And he was right, I was still thinking about it. About how easy it had been to abandon all my doubts and revel in the fantasy.
"You're right, I was thinking about it."
"Now that you've talked about it, does the fantasy still work for you?"
I knew exactly what he meant. In fact, I'd worried once I voiced the fantasy aloud it would no longer hold the charm it once did. Instead the opposite was true.