Chapter 23 #3
The Scotch coated the inside of her mouth in golden velvet, and then a mellow heat began to build at the center of her tongue.
Not sharp and aggressive like the shot she’d taken at Solstice, but slow and smoldering like an ember had been placed on her tongue.
The flavors unfolded in intriguing ripples—the sweetness of fruit and honey, the sharp kick of spices, a slight smokiness reminiscent of tobacco, and a hint of dark chocolate.
The aroma of wood smoke exploded in her sinuses just before she swallowed, the liquid leaving a warm trail down her throat and forging a path to her belly.
The sweetness and spice lingered at the back of her throat.
Mateo’s lips followed, giving her gentle pressure, coaxing her mouth open to treat her to a swift swipe of his tongue.
“Mmm,” he murmured against her mouth. “You make it taste better, baby girl. So sweet.”
Her belly quivered as his words sank into her skin, combining with the warmth produced by the Scotch. She relaxed into his embrace, craning her neck to search for the glass.
Mateo chuckled, offering it to her again. “You like that, baby girl?”
“Yes,” she whispered before taking another sip, this one bigger.
“Go slow,” he reminded her. “We’re not even close to being done yet. Now that you know how it tastes neat, you can try it with different pairings.”
Another trickle of Scotch into the glass, then the tearing of a wrapper. A new scent emerged, and her mouth watered for a taste of the dark chocolate he held under her nose.
“Bite,” he commanded.
She obeyed, letting the little square of chocolate melt and slide down her throat before accepting another sip of the Scotch.
“How’s that?” he asked.
Melody took another tip and smiled. “It’s brighter after the chocolate, sweeter.”
“More?”
“Yes.”
He fed her more of the chocolate between sips.
He kissed her between every mouthful, savoring her as she savored the Scotch, mumbling under his breath how good she tasted each time he pulled away.
He offered her more tempting morsels after that.
First, a piece of salted caramel, which deepened the smoky notes.
“That’s sherry oak,” he told her. “Deepens the flavor profile.”
The lime came next, its scent drawing her in first. He rasped something over the rind—his fingernail, maybe—sending up a little puff of pith, intensifying the smell. Then it fell away before a wedged piece stroked her lips.
“Some people like lime to cut through the burn,” he said, urging the lime wedge between her lips. “But you only get one taste like this. After, you have to drink your Scotch like a big girl.”
She cringed at the tartness of the lime, but then gulped the Scotch behind it, finding that the tang of the citrus definitely took the edge off the burn of the liquor.
Melody sank closer into him, snuggling into the opening of his jacket.
The night had cooled, but despite her thin dress, she was warm to the point of nearly being hot.
Mateo radiated heat like a furnace and the Scotch warmed her from the inside.
Her head began to spin, and she floated, drifting on a river of kisses and sips of Scotch, all of it combining with the daiquiris she’d drank to make her feel more than a little tipsy.
Mateo’s drugging kisses only made matters worse, making her hotter and hotter until she felt like she might burst into flames.
The tasting stretched on with Mateo manipulating the experience into something new each time. He fed her a piece of candied ginger and it allowed her to pick up on the spicy notes of the drink.
“After you try it neat, you can add a little water. Just a few drops … spring water, never tap. It opens up the Scotch, reveals more of the flavors.”
The next sip proved him right, and Melody detected vanilla and apricot along with the other flavors she’d picked out before.
She liked it better this way, the drops of spring water making the flavors more complex.
Ice came next, a single cube first and then more, accustoming Melody to the changing flavors and the softening burn.
Giving her a slow, sweet kiss, he smiled against her mouth. “And now for the best pairing of all.”
Melody waited with breathless anticipation, wondering what he would place into her mouth next.
She was alive with the various flavors already dancing on her tongue and eager for more.
The smell of the Scotch grew stronger as she realized whatever he wanted her to taste had been combined with it in some way.
She inhaled again, finding only Mateo’s mouthwatering scent.
He urged her hand up until she was clutching his arm, which he held in front of her face.
“Come take a taste,” he whispered, seduction dripping from every word. Her mouth suddenly watered for the next sip, as she realized what the pairing must be. “Right off my skin. Taste me.”
Melody tightened her hold on his arm and surged, her lips closing over the inside of his wrist. He drew in a deep breath as she sucked, stroking her tongue over his pulse and lapping up the smear of Scotch. He snatched his wrist away with a warm chuckle and Melody whined, pleading, desperate.
“Slow … don’t rush. There’s plenty more of me and the Scotch. It’s all yours tonight, baby girl.”
The magnetic pull of the Scotch mixed with Mateo washed over her again and she went for him slower this time.
“Take your time, sweet girl. Lick me slow. Own me inch by inch.”
Leisurely, she dragged her tongue over the wet patch of his skin, then closed her lips around it and sucked.
Mateo groaned, cupping her jaw and claiming her mouth with savage ferocity.
They went down onto the blanket, Melody sprawled almost on top of him.
She felt around with her hands, closing her fingers around the glass and dipping two inside to gather more of the liquid.
Sensing her intent, Mateo guided her hand, this time aiming for the side of his neck.
He held the back of her head, letting her find her way to him by scent until she found the trickling drop.
She moaned at the taste of him mixed with the Scotch, licking and sucking at his neck like a vampire, smearing him with more and lapping it away.
Mateo shuddered, his fingers tight in her braids as he held her close, tipping his head to give her better access.
She tasted the Scotch off his neck, his chin, his mouth.
He slipped his own fingers into the glass and then pushed them against her lips, urging them apart.
Liquid heat erupted low in her belly as she sucked those fingers, holding on to his wrist to keep him close, enveloping them over and over and imagining the taste of the Scotch on other places.
His chest, his belly, his thigh, his cock.
Before she could reach for his clothes to attempt it, he had her by the wrist, spinning her and hurling her down to the blanket. Still blind, she searched madly for him with her hands, sighing with relief as he pressed against her side.
“My turn,” he murmured, right before a cool trickle splashed the hollow of her collarbone.
The ice had turned the Scotch cold, and it made her shiver as it began trickling over her shoulder.
The heat of his mouth was a sharp counterpoint as he drank from her, kissing and licking and nibbling.
He didn’t use his fingers the way she had, she realized, but tipped the glass to allow it to drip onto her skin in droplets and rivulets that touched her like physical caresses.
He moaned while tasting her with the Scotch, his erection pressed against her hip as he crowded closer, as if trying to climb into her skin.
“Would you like to know how this pairing tastes?” he whispered against her ear, swiping a wet finger over her lips.
She licked the smoky-sweet liquid off her lips and moaned, “Yes.”
He did it again, but then kissed the Scotch off her lips before she could lick it away herself.
“Like fire and ice,” he replied, his hand slowly running down her body until his fingers were slipping under the hem of her dress. “Like pain and desire. It burns going down, baby girl … but I like the pain. I crave the sting like I crave you.”
Melody trembled as he slowly dragged the dress up before snatching off the blindfold. She blinked to focus her eyes, then found his face looming over hers, dark and beautiful and kissed by moonlight. The naked desire carved into his features was unmistakable, his eyes simmering like hot coals.
He let his fingers trace slow, feather-light circles along her belly, then stroked down the seam of her pussy through her panties.
The ability to see again did nothing to dull her other senses.
Tremors rocked her at every touch, her legs trembling as Mateo urged her to bend her knees and spread them apart.
He took up the glass, still containing about an inch of liquid.
He tipped it, and a trickle of Scotch filled the hollow of her navel.
She gasped from its cold splash, then cried out when he dipped his tongue in to lap it up, the hot stroke sending a lightning strike down her spine.
He cupped her breast and squeezed the nipple through the fabric.
She gasped, arching her back and spreading her legs wider, wordlessly pleading.