“These are so good!” Ana ate her eggs with relish.
“You’ve seen it all from me now,” I confessed, enjoying them, myself. “I’ve boiled you pasta and scrambled you eggs.” Food generally appeared in my life. I hadn’t ever done much to procure it.
“No more tricks up your sleeve?” Ana asked, smiling.
“Not in the kitchen.” I winked at her and was rewarded with a faint blush again. Man, she was fun to tease. And I’d lied, just then. I had a few more kitchen-related tricks. They just weren’t related to cooking food.
Outside, the storm blasted relentlessly as we washed our dishes. She sent her parents a quick text that she was OK. Then she turned off her phone. I flicked on the TV to check the weather report. They’d sent some poor schmuck out into the middle of it, wearing a parka with a hood so enormous it threatened to swallow him whole.
“Stay indoors,” he warned us. I didn’t need to be told twice.
“Oh, I didn’t see this before!” Ana exclaimed. Over in an adjoining room off, she spotted the grand piano. Normally, the room overlooked a spectacular view of the Sierra Nevada mountain range. Today, it was surrounded by white fury.
She sat down at the instrument and I had to join her. But I kept my hands away from the keys while she played me something classical I didn’t recognize, but I had to guess it was Russian with the intense passion in the chords. It complimented the storm raging outside. The Russians knew their snow.
No bra, in my T-shirt, I liked the look on her very much. There was something so deliciously intimate about seeing her in my clothes. I’d never really had a girlfriend before, not like this. I’d had my name linked with others, most recently Mandy Monroe, but I was always on the go and it made it easy to go in separate directions. I’d always wanted it that way. Now I didn’t want Ana out of my sight.
My fingers joining hers on the keyboard, we began creating something together, starting off simple then blending into a more complex melody. I’d bring us back to the chorus and she’d take it somewhere else. Then she’d bring us back and I’d build on it, see where it led. It was exactly like having a conversation, only I was better at this than at words. I’d always been better with music, communicating with my hands. And my body.
“Do you remember our conversation from last night?” I asked as our fingers played over the keys.
The blush on her cheeks grew deeper this time, blooming there from deep within. “Yesterday is kind of blurry. I remember feeling really out of it.”
I played a few keys, the soundtrack of feeling so blue.
“And I remember you kidnapped me,” she continued.
I played sounds of a sinister villain stealing away the heroine from a classic Western. “Then I gave you a bath,” I added, moving my fingers up the keys, remembering how her skin had felt, so warm and soft as I lathered and massaged her.
“That was good,” she agreed, feeding notes into my tapestry of sound.
“And then we climbed in bed together,” I added, softly. “Do you remember that?”
The intake of her breath, her nipples ripe and pebbling under my soft, thin T-shirt. She remembered.
“We talked about you surrendering to me. Giving up control. I’d very much like to do that with you. I’d like to tie you up. Blindfold you and play with you. What do you think of that, Ana?” I took my hands off the keys and brought them to her waist.
She inhaled at my touch, my fingers seeming to electrify her. “I’m not sure.”
“Are you curious?” A smile played at the corner of my mouth. I could tell she was, but I wanted to hear her confess it.
“Yes,” she answered shyly, her head tilting down.
“You don’t have to be shy with me, Ana.” I took her chin in my hand and brought her head up so I could meet her eyes level. “You don’t have to hide anything.”
Her lips parted at my suggestion. She wanted to go there with me, she just needed the right invitation. She needed to feel safe.
“I want to take control, Ana.” I caressed a finger down her face, her smooth skin, and she leaned into my touch. “But you can always tell me to stop.”
She opened up her eyes and looked into mine. “Are you going to hurt me?”
“No, baby, not like that.” I kissed her and gave her a reassuring embrace. “I don’t want to beat you or whip you or any of that hardcore play. There might be a little pain, but I’m not a sadist. I’m dominant. Let me show you the difference.”
I wanted to lean down and capture her lips with mine, feast on her, but I needed to give her this space, this distance in which to make her decision. I could feel her teetering on the edge, wanting to take the plunge, but I couldn’t push her over. If I did, I’d run the risk of her spluttering with indignation when she surfaced. No, this had to be her choice. She had to relinquish control to me.
“Do you trust me?” I asked her, unable to stop myself from leaning in for a nibble. Her neck felt so sweet, her light scent and smooth skin a rare delicacy.
Her breath caught in her throat, right where I licked and sucked. “Yes,” she breathed, her body still tense. But tension could be good. Tension could build and heighten the ultimate release.
“Then let me play, Anika. I’ll make it good for you.” I trailed kisses along the edge of the collar of the T-shirt she wore. I wanted it off. As I murmured into her skin, “No one has to know,” a shiver traveled up her body. She began a soft pant, her nipples hard and ready, pressing against the fabric of her shirt. She liked that idea. The intimate, private playground we could create together, here in the mountains.
“We’re snowed in,” I whispered, husky against her, my hands traveling up to cup her breasts. So soft, so responsive, I needed her naked now. But before I did that, I need her to say yes. “This will be our secret.”
“Yes.” She spoke it softly, a whisper of an exhale more than a declarative yes. I pulled away and looked into her eyes.
“Yes?” She needed to be sure.
“Yes.” This time she spoke with more authority, more sure of herself. She wanted this.
I didn’t need any more invitation. Standing up, I pulled her up with me and picked her up into my arms. She didn’t weigh that much and she felt so good pressed against me. We kissed our way into the master bedroom, leisurely. My blood pounded and boiled within me, tense urgency filling my veins. But I slowed myself down. We weren’t in a rush. We weren’t going anywhere and no one was going to interrupt us. There was every reason in the world to make this last.
Gently, I placed her down next to the bed. I took a few steps away. “Strip for me, Ana.” I’d seen her naked before, of course, but we’d been so frenzied, so frantic for each other. I wanted to watch her reveal herself to me, see her arousal deepen as she grew more vulnerable.
She brought her fingers to the hemline of her T-shirt, looking up at me and biting her plump lip. Then she pulled it up and over her head in one swift motion. Her breasts jiggled with the movement, soft and ripe, pillowed above her trim waist. Her nipples were a perfect dark pink, like lush strawberries atop her creamy mounds. I wanted to sink my teeth right into them.
“Boxers,” I demanded, already feeling the stiff press of my cock against my jeans. She got me hard just sitting next to her on the piano bench. Watching her stand there topless, nothing but my boxers covering her lower half wasn’t going to last long.
She tucked her fingers into the waistband and slowly slid them down her curves, stepping out of them with a natural grace. Even the curve of her spine as she bent down turned me on. Every movement, every shift made me harder. She drew herself to her full height, Venus rising from the ocean. Only, thankfully, her hair just grazed her shoulders and didn’t leave anything to the imagination.
“Lie down on the bed on your back,” I commanded. If she hesitated, I didn’t see. I was already reaching for my bag where I’d packed a few restraints. I’d never been a Boy Scout, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know how to always be prepared.
When I returned to the bed, she was lying there as I’d told her. I pulled the silk band taut in my hand with a snap. She jumped at the noise, looking at the restraint nervously. With swift, sure movements, I caught her wrist and bound her to the bedpost, then did the same on the other side. She watched me as I worked, tense. I made sure she was held tight but not uncomfortable. I wanted her to be able to squirm, enough room to pull at her restraints, but not enough to break free. She needed to feel bound.
I worked more slowly with her legs, teasing her with the silk, wrapping it around her calf and slipping it down to her ankle. I knew the smooth fabric felt good against her skin, slipping and sliding. But then I tied her ankle to the post at the end of the bed. She twisted, still keeping her legs together, as if there was any chance at remaining demure, chaste.
I let her keep her thighs pressed together, watching her rapid breathing, her peaked nipples, her pulse pounding.
“I’m going to tie your other leg down.” I caressed it as I spoke, softly, gently. “I want you spread open wide for me. Do you understand?”