My Bloody Valentine

6. Adrian

6

ADRIAN

I watch Maya’s chest heave with every breath, the black silk blindfold a stark contrast against her porcelain skin. Her grip wars with the unyielding wood chair, knuckles white. The air thickens with the scent of melted chocolate and her perfume—jasmine.

“Open.” I brush the shell of the chocolate against her bottom lip.

She parts her lips, and I slide the piece onto her tongue. A small moan escapes her throat as the chocolate melts.

“Explain what you taste,” I command.

“Rich... complex… there’s something...” Maya leans forward in her chair. “Something dangerous.”

I circle behind her, my fingertips grazing her shoulder. “Is that all?”

“You’re toying with me.” Her words come out breathy, desperate. “What’s next? Are you going to touch me?”

The question catches me off guard. My careful choreography threatens to unravel at her boldness. Heat courses through my veins as I imagine pressing her against the wall, claiming those chocolate-stained lips.

No. This isn’t the time. Everything must follow the sequence I’ve planned.

“This is a tasting.” I steady my voice despite the way my control frays. “Nothing more.”

“Then why the blindfold?” She turns her head toward my voice. “Why make it so intimate?”

I clench my jaw, steadying myself. “To heighten your other senses. To help you focus on the taste.”

“I don’t believe you.” Maya reaches up, her fingers searching for me.

I catch her wrist before she can touch me. Her pulse races under my thumb, and I momentarily consider throwing my carefully laid plans aside.

“Believe what you like.” I release her wrist. “You have three more pieces to taste.”

I press another piece against her lips, my urges growing as I watch her tongue dart out to accept it. This batch—special. Personal. The chocolate melts on her tongue, and satisfaction surges when she tenses.

“I know this taste.” Maya shifts in her chair, thighs pressing together. “From that night...”

My cock strains against my slacks as she lets out a soft moan. The sound pierces through years of careful restraint. I grip the table’s smooth edge.

“You remember.” The words come out rough, unfiltered.

She nods, licking her lips. “Your... essence.” Another moan escapes her. “Fuck, Adrian.”

The way she says my name—breathy, desperate—threatens to shatter my composure. I haven’t felt this loss of control since I was young. Before I learned to channel these urges into my work.

“Tell me how it makes you feel.” I need to hear it. Need to know she understands.

“Hot.” Maya arches in the chair. “Like liquid fire, snaking through every fiber of my being. Knowing I’m tasting you… consuming you.”

I exhale slowly, fighting for control. This wasn’t part of the plan. She was supposed to be repulsed, terrified. Instead, she’s writhing in pleasure, accepting every offering I present.

“More,” she whispers. “Please.”

I select the next piece with clenched fingers. This isn’t right. I’m supposed to be in control. But watching her eagerly accept my cum mixed into the dark chocolate—awakens something carnal that I’ve kept locked away.

She takes the next piece between her lips, and the moan that escapes her lips is pure sin. “Adrian...”

My grip tightens on the table as fantasies invade my thoughts—Maya kneeling in submission, her delightful lips around my cock, swallowing every drop I give her. My breath catches. I force the thoughts away, but they persist as she licks the remnants of chocolate from her lips.

“Last one.” I keep my voice steady despite the thunder of blood in my ears.

This piece—my masterwork. The caramel center holds more of my essence than any other, carefully blended to maximize flavor and effect. Maya’s tongue peeks out as I bring it to her mouth.

She takes it between her lips, and I can’t stop myself from running my thumb along her bottom lip. A whimper escapes her as the chocolate begins to melt.

“Oh God.” Her head falls back, exposing the delicate line of her throat. “This one’s... different.”

I slide my hand to her thigh, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her dress. Her muscles tense under my touch as I trace slow circles with my thumb.

“Tell me.” I lean close, my lips nearly brushing her ear.

“Stronger.” Maya’s breathing grows ragged. Her hips shift against the chair. “So much more... intense.”

My hand slides beneath the hem of her dress, fingertips grazing her thigh. The silkiness of her skin burns against my touch. Her breath catches—a small, desperate sound that makes my cock throb.

“Please.” Maya spreads her legs wider, inviting me in.

My fingers climb until they meet the delicate lace of her panties. They’re soaked through, and the knowledge that I’ve affected her this deeply makes my head spin.

One finger slides beneath the fabric. She’s dripping wet, her clit swollen and sensitive. I barely graze it with my fingertip.

Maya shatters.

Her back arches off the chair as she comes, thighs trembling around my hand. A cry tears from her throat—wanton and visceral. Her fingers dig into my forearm as waves of pleasure wrack her body.

I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. More perfect. The way she gives herself over to the pleasure, uninhibited and wild. My careful control slips further as I watch her come apart from just my lightest touch.

“Adrian,” she gasps my name like a prayer, hips still rolling against my hand.

The blindfold has slipped, revealing one lust-blown pupil. Her lips are stained with chocolate, parted as she pants. Everything about her in this moment is art—my creation, my masterpiece.

I step back, my hand falling away from her heated flesh. The loss of contact feels physically painful. “I apologize. That was... inappropriate.”

My pulse thunders through my body as I reach for her blindfold. The silk slides away, revealing her flushed face and dark eyes. A seductive smear of chocolate lingers at the corner of her mouth, making me long to lick it off.

Maya grabs my wrist before I can retreat further. “Don’t you dare apologize for that.” Her voice is husky, still breathless from her orgasm. “That was the single most amazing tasting session of my life.”

“It wasn’t meant to?—”

“What? To turn me on? To make me come so hard, I saw stars?” She stands, closing the distance between us. “Because it did both.”

My gaze drops to her lips. They’re still stained with my chocolate, slightly swollen from biting them during her pleasure. The urge to taste and claim them with my mouth crashes through me.

I’ve never kissed any of them. Kissing is too intimate, too personal. It requires a connection I can’t afford. Yet here I am, fighting the desperate need to press my lips against hers.

“Adrian.” She steps closer, tilting her face up. Her breath fans across my mouth. “Kiss me.”

I brace against the table behind me. “I don’t kiss.”

“Why not?”

Because kissing means feeling. Because once I start, I might not be able to stop. Because the void inside me might consume her completely.

“It’s not part of this.” The words come out rough, strained.

Maya catches that smear of chocolate at the corner of her mouth with her tongue. The sight makes my cock throb painfully. “What exactly is ‘this,’ Adrian?”

I release a breath, running my hand through my hair. What is this? My carefully orchestrated plan has derailed spectacularly. The tasting was meant to be controlled—a slow buildup of tension and terror. Instead, I’ve crossed lines I never meant to cross.

“I don’t know.” The admission burns my throat. Control is slipping away like water through my fingers.

Maya steps closer, and I catch another whiff of jasmine, only now it’s paired with the scent of her arousal. My cock strains painfully against my slacks. The urge to bend her over the tasting table, to bury my cock inside her, threatens to overwhelm my restraint.

“You touched me.” Her voice drops low, seductive. “Made me come with barely a touch.”

“A mistake.” Still, as I utter the lie, I want to do it again. Want to feel her wet heat around my fingers, want to taste her essence.

“Was it?” She presses her palm against my chest. “Because it felt deliberate. Perfect.”

My heart pounds beneath her touch. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. She should be afraid and running from the darkness she senses in me. Instead, she’s drawing closer, like a moth to a flame.

“I shouldn’t have—” The words catch in my throat as her hand slides lower, ghosting over my erection.

“But you did.” Maya’s fingers trace my length through my slacks. “And I want more.”

I grab her wrist, stilling her movement. The contact sends electricity racing through my veins. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Then show me.”

Three simple words that threaten to shatter years of careful control. I want to. I want to show her everything—every grotesque fantasy. The need to mark, claim, and make her mine in ways that would terrify most people.

But this wasn’t part of the plan. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I’ve already crossed one line today—how many more can I cross before I lose myself completely?

I step back, putting distance between us despite every instinct screaming to pull her closer. “I don’t mix business with pleasure, Ms. Kendall.”

“This feels like it’s already mixed.” Undeterred, Maya’s fingers trail down my tie.

I catch her hand, holding it firmly. “Then let me unmix it. Allow me to take you to dinner tomorrow night.”

She blinks, surprise crossing her features. “Dinner?”

“Yes. A proper date.” I straighten my jacket, finding my footing in familiar etiquette. “I may have unconventional tastes, but I was raised with certain standards.”

Color floods Maya’s cheeks as reality seems to sink in. She glances down at her rumpled dress. “Oh my God. I just... in your tasting room...”

“Indeed.” I allow a small smile. “I’d prefer our next encounter to be more traditional.”

Maya takes a deep breath, her sound mind and normal composure returning. “You’re right. This is... this is insane. We barely know each other.”

“Then let’s change that.” I fish my phone out. “Eight o’clock? I know a quiet place downtown.”

She nods, tucking her hair behind her ear. The confident seductress from moments ago has transformed into something softer, more vulnerable. “Eight sounds perfect.”

“I’ll send a car.” I open the door for her, maintaining a respectable distance. “And Maya?”

She pauses in the doorway, looking back.

“Dream of me tonight, little critic.” My voice drops low, promise coating each word. “Dream of how I made you feel with just my fingertips. Imagine what I could do with my whole body.”

A delicious blush spreads across Maya’s cheeks, down her neck, disappearing beneath the deep V of her neckline. Her pulse jumps at her throat—that spot I’ve been aching to taste. She grips the doorframe, steadying herself.

“I...” Her voice catches. “I should go.”

I remain rooted, hands clasped behind my back to avoid reaching for her. The distance between us crackles with electricity and danger.

Maya takes one step back, then another, her eyes never leaving mine. The evening air catches her hair, carrying another whiff of jasmine to my nose. My cock stirs at the recollection of her moans of pleasure.

She turns and walks away, her heels clicking against the sidewalk. I watch until she disappears around the corner, fighting the urge to follow. To claim.

Not yet. Soon.