“Lift your foot,” he said, tapping her right ankle.
Unable to trust herself not to topple over in her high heels, especially with her legs as shaky as they were, she braced her arms on his shoulders and lifted one foot, then the other so he could remove her panties and toss them aside.
Then he stood and pointed behind her. “Go to the bed.”
She did as commanded, then turned back around to see him fetch a blindfold from the bureau.
“Sit.”
She lowered herself to the edge of the bed, gazing up at him as he loomed over her. A moment later, he slid the blindfold over her eyes.
“Is that comfortable?” he asked.
She nodded, adjusting the blindfold so that it nestled more naturally into the contours of her face.
When she’d finished, he took her hands, pulled them forward, and placed them on his body.
“Touch me,” he said.
Gladly.
“Where?”
“Wherever you want. Just . . . feel me. Let me watch you explore my body.” He dragged her hands higher, to the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, which forced her to stand again. He placed her fingers on the first closed button below his collar. “I’ll help you.”
He unbuttoned the button, then guided her fingers to continue with the next one.
Sliding it through the buttonhole, she felt her way down to the next, then the next, until she pushed open his shirt.
Pressing her lips together, she placed her palms on his warm, firm stomach, then glided them up the ridges of his abdomen to the solid mounds of his pecs. Sparse silky hair greeted her fingertips, and she took a moment to comb her fingers over it, smoothing it from his sternum outward in either direction.
He breathed heavily as she continued feeling her way up to his shoulders and then down his arms, pushing off his shirt.
The sleeves bunched below his elbows as if his cuffs were still buttoned. She began to feel for his cufflinks, so she could take them off, but he beat her to it, maneuvering his arms and releasing them himself. A moment later, she heard a pair of metallic clinks as he placed his cufflinks on what she assumed was the nightstand, then the soft thwump of his shirt hitting the floor.
“Am I what you imagined?” he asked, his voice quiet.
She nibbled her bottom lip, trying not to smile but failing as she slid her palms back up his striated arms, pausing to lightly squeeze his biceps, which flexed into rocklike bulges under her hands.
“I don’t know yet.” She bit her lip, continuing her tactile exploration. “I only just started.” Her palms glided over his taut nipples. “And until I see you, I’m not sure I can make an accurate assessment.”
She was teasing him, of course, because he felt delicious. If her hands could eat, they would have been feasting right now.
But, honestly, she had always expected him to feel this good, especially after that night at the Met. Even though he’d been behind her, and all she’d seen was his hand, it had been enough for her to know he had a body to match his voice. Desirable, delectable, and made for sin. And given what she’d seen of him tonight, as well as the coiled power and carved muscles she was reading like braille beneath her palms, he was even more dedicated to his fitness regimen than she was.
He took her hands and lifted them to his face. He had removed his mask.
It took all her restraint not to snatch her hands away and pull down her blindfold, but she managed to hold back.
Sucking in her breath, she settled her fingertips on his lightly stubbled cheeks. His skin was smooth and warm, his whiskers prickly, his cheekbones high and round, as if he were grinning at her careful inspection of him. Reaching higher, her fingers brushed over his lashes as he blinked and closed his eyes, then she smoothed her fingertips over his thick, full eyebrows.
“Do I at least pass inspection?” he asked quietly as she lightly dug her fingers into his hair.
“I still haven’t seen your face.”
“Do you need to, to know whether I can give you what you want? What you need?”
Dragging her fingers down his trimmed beard, she shook her head. “I’m not sure I know what I need.”
Tonight had been a bit overwhelming. So much of what she’d seen had enticed and excited her, but she wasn’t sure if that was because she enjoyed watching others engage in those acts or because she wanted to. The thing was, she would never know if she didn’t sample a little of everything. Even acts she wasn’t sure she would enjoy.
He took her hands and manacled them in front of her with one of his, making her heart skip a beat. “Then I’ll help you figure it out.”
She clung to his voice, inching closer, teetering in her stilettos. “Yes. Please.” Then as an afterthought, “Sir.”
This was why she was here, to figure out what she wanted, how she wanted it, and to what degree.
He released her wrists and eased her back down onto the bed. She reached for him, seeking his chest. She found only empty air. Searching the space in front of her, she lowered her arms. Her right hand brushed against the side of his head. Ah, there he was. He was kneeling in front of her.
“Then let’s begin,” he said, plucking off her pricey footwear, one shoe at a time.
She felt like Cinderella with Prince Charming taking off her glass slippers on their wedding night.
“I knew during our first phone call that you were special,” he said, caressing one of her calves with both hands. “I knew one day we would find ourselves here.”
She licked her lips, holding on to his shoulders. “I did too,” she whispered. “I always knew.”
Without being able to explain
