“Thank you,” I said, needing to be clear her sharing herself mattered more to me than any quick fuck.
She nodded, her eyes so wide and bright, still so open in the dimly lit car that for a moment I considered asking the driver to take us straight to my place, but I didn’t trust myself to hold back when we were really alone.To me, dominance had always been about using the power my partner trusted me with for the pleasure of both of us.Alexandra would feel more pleasure, deeper pleasure when she really let go and trusted someone else to hold her.That meant not letting her fall into old patterns of performing for power.Which meant—for now at least—no sex.Until I could be sure I could be alone with her and not give in to the aching need to cover her with my body and fill her with my cock, we’d have to stick to sharing other only slightly less pleasurable things together.
“Come on, beautiful,” I said, straightening her skirt for her.“We’re late for tea.”
––––––––
ISAT ON the low bench, grateful this wasn’t one of those tea places where you had to sit on the floor.My skirt would have made it impossible and after what happened in the back of Erik’s car, I didn’t trust my legs to support me if I gave in to their urge to crumple.Hell, I was so shaky, I’d needed his help to get into the shop.This time when he put his hand on the small of my back to guide me, it had been a necessity and not for show.It took every bit of my self-control to keep from leaning back against him, letting his body curve around me and support me.I still wanted that—to give in to his strength for just a few moments.To surrender to him.
It was insane.I’d been in lots more vulnerable positions with clients before.But I didn’t come with them.I faked, very convincingly if I must say so myself, but letting go enough to actually orgasm?That was something I did in the safety of my own space, deep inside my own fantasies.
Erik pushed me to reveal more of myself than I ever intended, and I felt more vulnerable getting myself off with him next to me than I’d ever felt during sex.There’d been a moment after I climaxed when it felt like we connected on a deeper level, even though he barely touched me.And then he slid my fingers into his hot mouth, and any satisfaction I’d been feeling got burned away by how much I wanted him.It felt like going from zero to sixty in a flash of his dark eyes, as if my orgasm never happened, and I was thrown right back neck-deep into wanting him.Except this time nothing would make the feeling go away but him.Which was damned inconvenient, given how much energy I’d been expending trying to convince both of us that he didn’t matter to me.
“Have you ever made tea using a Gaiwan before?”The diminutive man who appeared part Asian, part something else, and every bit of eighty years old sat in the chair opposite us and waited for my answer.
I thought of about a half dozen smart-ass Lipton comments but found I didn’t want to say any of them.The tea shop was small—on scale with its proprietor—and smelled delicious, spicy, smoky, and herbal all at the same time.Glass apothecary jars holding dozens of kinds of teas lined the walls and I wanted to know what was in each of them.I was too curious to try to mask it with snark.
“No, sir.I’m not sure what a Gaiwan is, but I know I haven’t used one.”
“Good, good.You’re going to love this.It’s a completely different taste.Do you prefer green tea or black?”
The man directed the question at me.Our host greeted Erik when we arrived and the two of them shared a few words in a language I didn’t understand but my companion had been silent ever since.Even after all my study, I guess a part of me still associated dominance with bossing someone around, but Erik managed to maintain complete control of the situation without saying a word.And instead of telling me what to do, I found myself wondering what he liked, what would please him.Even in his silence, or rather because of it, he was taking up an awful lot of space in my head.
I glanced over at him, but he simply smiled at me, a warm, steady presence, giving no indication which he preferred.
“Black, please,” I said, opting for my favorite when faced with a vacuum.
“Very nice,” said the man, rising with more ease than his apparent age should allow and going over to a collection of small jars on the far wall.
As I watched, he set a wooden tray—marked and polished smooth from what I assumed was years of use—on the counter.He lined up three unadorned white porcelain bowls on the tray and put a scoop from each jar into them.
“This one is pu-erh,” he said, offering me the small bowl to smell.
I leaned in and inhaled the earthy, almost stringent aroma.Erik leaned in beside me and breathed in the scent, but he still didn’t comment.
“I like that,” I said, not sure whether I was supposed to wax on, like at a wine tasting.Fruity but with a hint of bullshit or some such thing.
Erik wasn’t offering me any clues and the older man studied me like he was trying to fit me for a wand.At least I hadn’t broken anything.
“This one is lapsang suchong,” the man said, trading the bowl for the one next to it.
I breathed deep and struggled to keep from coughing.It smelled like tea that had been parked in a smoker for a day or two.I couldn’t imagine brewing it would make any of that better.
“Are you okay?”Erik rested his hand, warm and strong, on my forearm, his touch firm through the silk of the blouse he’d chosen for me.My senses were compounding each other, everything threatening to overwhelm me.His touch, my body’s reaction to him, the glide of fabric against my skin, the scents filling the space; I had no choice but to focus on the tea in front of me.If I thought about the man with the razor-sharp wit and kind eyes, I’d go over the edge.If I dwelt on the way he seemed to be trying to take care of me, I might not be able to climb out again.
“Maybe not that one,” said the older man, setting the bowl down before picking up the next.
When he offered me the tea this time, I inhaled carefully, breathing in just a whiff at first.The slightly citrus scent of bergamot filled my nostrils, overlaid with something else.It was so subtle, it took me a moment to recognize the lavender.It had none of its normal soapy scent, just a delicate floral aroma that complemented the bergamot and rich tea.I smiled and breathed deeper, losing myself for a moment in the simple sensual pleasure of tea.Tea I hadn’t even tasted yet.
“That’s it.That’s the one,” said the man, taking away the tray and replacing the bowls with two tea cups and a low covered vessel that looked a little like a casserole dish.
He took a metal teapot off a burner in the corner and set everything on the table in front of us.If he went back for anything else, I was going to have to jump up and help.Nothing but the older man’s appearance seemed frail, but it didn’t seem fair to let the smallest of us do all the work.
“First we warm the Gaiwan.”He poured a bit of steaming water into the casserole-looking thing, waiting a few moments before emptying it into a bowl.
Erik took my hand in both of his, cradling it in a touch that managed to be more tender than sexual.I glanced over and found him watching me with the same kind of intensity I’d been watching the tea-making process.
“Now we bloom the tea.”The man took two big pinches of the dried leaves in his wrinkled fingers and dropped them into the white dish.
