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DANIELA
He’s right. Sex with him is never comfortable—it’s a spine-tingling roller coaster ride, and highly addictive, like a potent drug, but it’s never comfortable.
He places both hands on my waist. “Hold onto my arms, and I’ll help you to the floor so you don’t hurt yourself.”
Without my vision, it takes a good dose of trust to let him guide me. But I do, because if I know anything, it’s that he won’t let me fall. Sometimes the safety net is so far out of reach I can’t see it, like on the ship, but with him, it’s always there. No detail is too small when it comes to my safety.
When my knees hit the cold tile, he eases me back until I’m sitting on my heels.
“Distribute your weight evenly. Place your hands on your thighs for leverage, so you don’t list and topple over. That’s it.”
His lips graze over mine, slow and sublime. I feel the kisseverywhere.
“It’ll take just a few minutes to get things ready,” he says, after pulling back.
When he steps away, I experience his absence acutely. He hasn’t left the room, but blindfolded, with him out of arm’s reach, I’m alone and vulnerable.
I take several deep breaths to settle my nerves, and it’s enough to ground me so I’m fully present.
Although I can’t see what he’s doing, I hear everything. Bottles uncorked, Port decanting, the clink of glasses, and the rustle of his trousers as he moves. Each sound paints a vivid picture against the dark canvas.
After a few minutes of just listening, I sense him approaching. His spicy cologne woos me before he says a single word.
“Do you need anything before we start,Princesa? Maybe some water?”
I shake my head.
“You’re breathtaking on your knees. I almost hate to have you move, but we have atastingto conduct.” He cradles my cheek in a warm hand. “I’ll help you up. Follow my lead,” he instructs, before lifting me to my feet and scooping my body into his arms.
I cling to him because I’m high off the floor and I can’t see a thing. We move for mere seconds—although it seems infinitely longer—before he sets me down, on the table—I think.
As I root around to get my bearings, he stands between my legs. I’m suddenly acutely aware of the plug.Maybe it’s been in for too long.
“You’re on the table. At the edge,” he explains, “so don’t wiggle around too much. You’re safe,Princesa. Even when it feels like you’re not, you are. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
It’s the reassurance I need, and the pent-up anxiety that masquerades as energy begins to unspool. Not because he won’t let anything bad happen, but because he’s watching me closely enough to know I’m off-kilter without my vision.
Before I have a chance to get fully comfortable in this position, his hands are on me, gliding over my sensitive skin. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, and I reach for him as my body sways forward. “Is this the tasting?” I gasp.
I feel the curl of his mouth on my breast before he pulls it away.
“So much going on inside that pretty little head. Too many questions.”
I shiver at his warm breath on my shoulder.
“You’ll wait for what I give you. And you’ll drink greedily, sucking every drop into that sassy mouth, like a gratefulPrincesa.” Without another word, he sinks his teeth into the base of my neck, marking the soft flesh at the top of my spine. It rouses every nerve, and a whimper tumbles from my lips in response.
He brings a glass to my lips, and I take a generous sip, and then another. It’s luscious.A vintage Port from a vintage year.I’m sure of it.
“It’s a vintage Port,” I announce confidently.
“Very nice, but anyone with a moderate amount of knowledge would know that. I want to know the year.”
“The year?” That’s almost impossible. I’m not that good. “I have no idea.”
“Take a guess.”
“What happens if I guess wrong?” I ask, buying myself some time to narrow down the possibilities.
