He set a pot off the stove and then hurried toward her. To her surprise, he slid his hand around her neck and pulled her to him, his lips finding hers in a heated rush.
“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this moment,” he murmured against her lips. “You. Naked. In my home. Here in my kitchen while I prepare a meal I intend to feed you by my hand. It’s more than I ever dared hope for, Joss. I hope to hell you know that.”
“I do now,” she said with a smile as he drew away, his eyes glittering with desire.
“Go into the living room and get comfortable,” he directed. “I’ll bring in a tray momentarily.”
His gaze lingered a moment longer before he reluctantly turned away and went back to the stove.
As he’d directed, she went into the living room and sank into the sumptuous leather. She wasn’t cold, but the urge to pull one of the throws around her was strong. But that wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t what he’d commanded of her, and she wouldn’t start their relationship off on a bad foot by disobeying his very first directive.
A few minutes later Dash entered the living room carrying a tray with one plate. Evidently he’d been serious about feeding her, because there was no extra serving. He stopped at the coffee table and slid it onto the glass top before settling onto the couch next to her.
To her surprise he reached for one of the pillows and placed it on the floor next to his feet. Puzzled by his action, she sent him an inquisitive look.
In response he simply held out his hand to hers, his gaze steady and . . . challenging? Was this a test? And if it was, what was she supposed to do?
When he continued holding out his hand, but not reaching to take hers, she slid hers into his and his fingers curled around hers.
“I want you to kneel on the pillow so that I can feed you,” he said in a low, husky voice.
She held back the questions that burned her lips. Instead she simply nodded and rose, with his assistance. She sank onto the pillow as gracefully as she was able, and remembering his instructions for when she knelt, she spread her thighs and rested her hands, palms up on the tops of her legs.
“Very good,” he murmured. “You’re a natural at this, Joss. Make sure you’re comfortable and we’ll begin our meal.”
It was a little mortifying to be sitting, thighs splayed where he could easily see her most intimate parts. And yet her clit tingled, swelling with her arousal. Her ni**les hardened and her breathing shallowed, little puffs of air escaping her parted lips.
He forked a bite of the pasta and sautéed shrimp, gently blew on it before pressing it lightly to his lips to test the temperature. Then he held the fork to her mouth, prompting her to open.
As he held the fork for her to eat, his other hand delved into her hair, stroking and twisting the strands around his fingers. He kept up his gentle assault on her senses and he fed her more, each time bringing it to his lips first.
There was something decidedly intimate about him feeding her. How he ensured that it wouldn’t burn her by testing it first. The idea that the food had been to his mouth first and then to hers was as jolting as if he’d kissed her.
Gradually she relaxed, the tension that coiled in her muscles loosening as they continued their intimate dinner in silence.
What would happen after? He’d said they’d go to bed. He’d hinted that they would have sex. But her mind was overwhelmed with the possibilities. Would he tie her up this first night? Would he exert his dominance immediately, as she’d asked him to, or would he go slower? Ease her into his world?
She couldn’t decide which option held more appeal. She wanted to experience the full measure of his dominance but she didn’t want to be overwhelmed from the very start. She wanted this to work.
Trust.
He’d asked for her trust. Had told her to put her faith in him. That he’d come to know her boundaries, her needs and her desires better than herself. If this was going to work, she had to do just that. Put herself into his care. Fully in his care. And trust that he’d never take things too far.
He held a glass of wine to her mouth, gently tipping it so she could take a small sip. Emotion knotted her throat when the flavor hit her tongue, making it hard to swallow. She held it in her mouth a long moment before she composed herself enough to swallow without choking on it.
It was her favorite. How had he known? It was a wine Carson bought for every birthday and anniversary. And though she’d drank Carson’s favorite every year on the anniversary of his death, she hadn’t tasted her favorite wine since the last time she drank it with Carson.
“Good?” Dash murmured.
“Yes,” she said huskily. “My favorite. But then you knew, didn’t you?”
He smiled. “Of course. There isn’t much I don’t know when it comes to what pleases you. I told you I was prepared to spoil you shamelessly. This is only the beginning.”
A drop of wine slipped from the corner of her mouth and when she would have lifted her hand to wipe it away, he stopped her and then leaned forward.
“Let me,” he murmured.
Instead of wiping it with his fingers, he swept in and lapped at the corner of her mouth with his tongue.
A burst of heat singed her skin. He didn’t just lick it away quickly. He tongued the sensitive area and then nibbled at her lips before swiping one last time with his tongue.
“Delicious,” he said, and she knew he wasn’t talking about the wine.
Intimacy surrounded them, cloaking them and enclosing them in a tight circle of desire and heat. Nothing else existed. The rest of the room faded away. There was just him and her and the delicious meal he’d prepared and served her in such an intimate fashion.
She’d imagined many things when she’d considered the pathway she was taking. But nothing had prepared her for the reality. Would it have been this way with another man? She knew it wouldn’t. No one but Dash could ever provide her with this experience. The depth of this experience.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you look?” Dash said in a voice edged with desire and arousal. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve dreamed of this? Of you at my feet, eating by my hand, naked. So damn beautiful that it’s a physical ache inside me.”
She cocked her head to the side, curious as to the effect. She could see the intense satisfaction in his eyes and it made her wonder why. What was it about a woman at his feet that gave him such pleasure?
“Can I ask you something, Dash?”
“Of course.”
He sat back so he could see her fully. She was careful to maintain her position because she wanted him looking at her just as he was right now. With so much approval and . . . contentment.
“What is it about a submissive woman that appeals to you so much? I’ve often wondered about Chessy and Tate. It’s obvious he loves her so much. He practically worships her. He’s so . . . possessive of her. It’s why I can’t wrap my head around the fact that he shares her with other men. But I’m straying from the point,” she added with a light laugh. “I want to know why it appeals to you so much.” She swept her hand down her body, indicating her position. “You like this—me—in a submissive position.”
He touched her hair, stroking his hand down the long tresses, pulling them briefly away from her br**sts so he could see her fully. There was definite male satisfaction in his gaze. That approval removed her hesitance. Gave her confidence where before she’d been so vulnerable.
“How to explain how I feel?” he mused. “I don’t know that there’s a cut-and-dried explanation for why it pleases me. It’s not a power trip. In some cases, yes, it’s about power. But for me, it brings me great pleasure, and yes, satisfaction. It’s a heady sensation for a woman to put her absolute faith and trust in me. That she trusts me to provide for her. That she gives up control because she trusts that I’ll give her what she needs. That I’ll take care of her. That I’ll absolutely protect her with my life.”
“You like to be needed then.”
He paused a moment, weighing her words. “I suppose that’s one way to put it. But it goes much deeper. My instinct is to provide. To protect. To absolutely cherish, spoil and pamper my woman. In this case, you. But it’s a drive strictly personal to you. With other women, yes, I’ve enjoyed all those things. It brings me pleasure to be able to give those things to another woman. But with you it’s very different. I don’t just want your trust and submission. I need them. I need to do these things for you, Joss. Never think even for a moment that another woman is interchangeable with you. That it would be this way with another woman. Because that simply isn’t true.”