Letting Go (Surrender Trilogy #1)(41)

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.”