Chapter 18 #2
“We shall see, then,” he whispered.
Madeline heard him scrape a spoon on something. A glass? A jar? A moment later, his thumb rubbed her chin.
“Open up.”
She parted her lips eagerly. Her tongue met something tart and bursting with juicy flavor, waking her taste buds. She felt the textures in her mouth as she chewed slowly.
“Too easy, Kenneth. That is a fresh raspberry, dipped in French cream.”
“Correct,” he replied, not sounding disappointed at all. “Let us see if you can guess something more complex than that.”
Madeline heard him dig into something crisp. Perhaps it was one of the pastries. There were more than one of them, thanks to Cook’s enthusiasm for her planned picnic. The flavor was savory and rich, dipped in wine.
“Oh. I hope you have tried this yourself, Kenneth,” she raved. “It is Cook’s pigeon tartlets!”
“Ah, you are making it difficult for me,” Kenneth growled playfully.
“I may need much more improvement as a cook, but I love food,” she admitted. “Give me one more.”
Madeline realized that the blindness had become so comfortable because she had come to trust Kenneth.
There was a prolonged pause. Kenneth had become so quiet, and she did not hear him slicing through any of the treats. She wondered if he was not too happy about her winning the game, and was slowly leaving her behind.
“Open your mouth, Madeline,” he ordered softly.
She again obeyed, expecting one of the sweeter delicacies. Instead, she felt the slide of his lips against hers.
He had only kissed her once before, on their wedding night, and she had bitten him for it. This time, she kissed him back.
Soon, the kiss deepened. She let him kiss her more thoroughly, and she kissed him back just as fiercely. Sherry and honey burst onto her taste buds, and she moaned against his mouth. How was it that she was tasting what he had partaken, and yet it seemed like he was the one devouring her?
Madeline liked how Kenneth’s hand fisted in her hair as he continued with that same delicious rhythm.
She did not know that kissing could be this earth-shattering.
When he finally pulled away, she let out a gasp.
Her hands were on his broad shoulders, clutching him tightly.
She could not even remember reaching out for him.
“What was that, Madeline?” he asked, teasingly.
Madeline traced her swollen lip with her tongue, still tasting him. “Honey,” she breathed. “And sherry… and you.”
“Well done,” he praised, his hands sliding down the small of her back. He felt so hot against her skin. “You are right again.”
Madeline’s breath came in shallow bursts.
Her senses were heightened even as she could not see, or maybe because of it.
With the darkness, she could feel the heat of the sun and his palms on her.
The scent of fresh grass filled her nostrils, and her body tingled from being close to him.
She still remembered the dinner where she was served as dessert.
It felt like they were building a relationship through taste.
This time, though, she did not want to eat or drink anything from the picnic basket. Not anymore.
She wanted him.
“I... I would like to taste something else, Kenneth,” she said, her cheeks flushing. She reached up and found his jaw, felt the faint stubble there.
“What is it that you wish to taste, Madeline? We have plenty of pastries and chocolate.”
“No,” she retorted, afraid that she sounded like a petulant child. Her hands traveled down his body until they were on his powerful thighs. “I want to taste you, like you tasted me at dinner.”
Kenneth went completely rigid. She heard the hitch in his throat and his ragged breathing. Perhaps she could see him lose all control. Feel him, at least. She liked how the blindfold made her feel more powerful. Bolder.
“Madeline,” he said, his voice thick. He was trying to restrain himself. She could not help but smile. “You do not have to do that. We are outdoors, and you never have to subject yourself to—”
“I want to,” she interrupted, her voice strong and firm. Her hands moved down the front of his breeches. He was already rock-hard and heavy, straining against the fabric. “You would not refuse me. It is still part of the game.”
He groaned, and the sound of it was music to Madeline’s ears.
She felt him lean back on one hand, the other working the fastenings of his breeches until he sprang free.
She found him with her hands, startled by the heat and the size of him, and bent to take him into her mouth.
A drop of moisture met her tongue. She did not know quite what she was doing, but she meant to learn.
“Slowly.” His hand came to the back of her head, his fingers threading into her loosened hair. “Use your tongue. Yes, like that.”
She obeyed and was rewarded with a low, broken sound from above her. It thrilled her that she could pull such a thing from a man who guarded every reaction. She sucked the tip where the droplet had come from, her hand gripping the rest of his length, and took him deeper.
“Good girl,” he rasped, and the praise sent heat curling low in her belly. His grip in her hair tightened, setting the rhythm for her. “Take more of me. Oh, Madeline.”
She let him guide her, let him use her mouth at the pace he chose, and found she loved his helpless groans.
Kenneth had not known that so innocent a woman could bring him to the edge in the middle of the afternoon. He held himself back through sheer will, watching his prim, sunny wife on her knees in the grass with her mouth full of his cock. It was nearly his undoing.
“Madeline.” His voice came out wrecked. He fisted his hand in her hair and drew her head back, just enough. “Enough. I am close, and I will not finish in your mouth your first time unless you—”
He tried to pull her back, but she was determined.
He knew that she was inexperienced and might not know what happened to men when they reached the pinnacle of pleasure.
She gripped the base of his cock while her mouth continued working on him until he could no longer take it.
His body surrendered to the pleasure as he came deep into her mouth.
He thought she would be disgusted, but she swallowed every drop of his release.
Kenneth lay on the blanket, completely spent. His breath came harsh and heavy, almost as if there was a wild animal racing in his chest. Madeline finally pulled away, licking her lips as she sat back on her heels. He would never forget the almost feral look on her face.
Once he recovered, he rolled off the blanket and lunged forward so fast that she yelped in surprise. He pinned her beneath his body, pressing her against the blanket this time.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me, Madeline?” He pushed the hem of her green dress up to her waist, baring her to the sun.
“Kenneth?”
“Hush,” he commanded, as his fingers sought the split in her drawers. She was soaked, dripping for him, which told him she had enjoyed sucking him every bit as much as he had enjoyed it. He pushed two fingers inside her in one slow stroke and watched her face as he did it.
Her mouth fell open, and her hips rose to take him deeper.
He set his thumb against her nub and worked her in slow, deliberate circles, the way he already knew would undo her, and she gave him everything in return—every gasp, every helpless twist of her body, every moan she could not manage to hold back.
He could feel her clenching around his fingers, wet enough now that the slide of them was obscene in the quiet of the garden.
“Kenneth, not here,” she begged, even as her thighs fell open wider to take him. “I cannot—”
Instead of pulling away, he did not give her time to breathe. He thrust his fingers in and out of her with a relentless speed.
“Not here? Isn’t that what I said, earlier, Madeline?
” he growled into her ear. He drove his fingers deeper, knowing that he was about to push her up the precipice once more.
She cried out, clenching around his hand in waves while he worked her through every last shudder.
He did not stop until her cries softened and her thighs went slack against the blanket.
Only then did he draw his hand free, his fingers slick with her, and reach up to pull the blindfold from her eyes. She squinted up at him in the bright sun, dazed and disheveled, her hair wrecked and her lips still swollen.
“Next time,” Kenneth said, “we are using a bed.”