"Exploring," I said, moving back to stand in front of her. "You trusted me enough to surrender at Sassy's. Tonight, I want to show you how good it can be when you let me take control in our space. With no masks, no anonymity. Just us."
I set the wine bottle and ice on the coffee table within reach, then turned back to her. "But first, I need you naked."
Her hands went to the hem of her scrub top, pulling it over her head. Underneath, she wore a simple bra, but somehow that made it hotter. She was coming from work, hadn't dressed up, and yet she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
"Keep going," I encouraged, my voice dropping lower.
She stripped off her scrub pants, her panties, her bra, until she stood completely naked in the warm glow of the fairy lights. Seeing her vulnerable and trusting, radiating absolute beauty, caused my cock to strain painfully against my jeans.
"Perfect," I said. "Now, lie down on the couch. On your back."
She obeyed, stretching out on the leather couch, her skin golden in the soft light. I grabbed the ice cube and the wine bottle, then knelt beside her.
"Close your eyes," I instructed.
When she did, I traced the ice cube along her collarbone. She gasped at the sudden cold, her back arching slightly. I dragged it slowly down between her breasts, circling each one without touching the nipples yet, watching goosebumps rise on her skin.
"Cold," she breathed.
"I know." I circled her left nipple with the ice, watching it harden into a tight peak. Then I leaned down and took it into my mouth, and she cried out at the contrast.
I gave the right nipple the same treatment, ice, then heat, until she was squirming beneath me.
"Easton, please—"
"Not yet." I trailed the melting ice down her stomach, circling her navel, then lower. When I reached the top of her mound, I paused. "Spread your legs."
She did, her thighs falling open, exposing herself completely to me. I could see how wet she already was, and I'd barely touched her.
I dragged the ice along her inner thigh, making her gasp and try to close her legs. "Uh-uh," I said, using my free hand to hold her open. "Stay still. Let me play."
The ice reached her pussy, and I traced it through her folds—not inside, just teasing along the outside. She whimpered, her hips rolling, seeking more.
"Do you want more?" I asked.
"Yes," she gasped.
"Tell me what you want."
"Touch me. Inside. Please, Easton."
I set aside what was left of the ice and picked up the wine bottle. Her eyes were still closed, so she didn't see what I was planning.
I tilted the bottle carefully, letting a thin stream of wine drip onto her stomach. She gasped at the sensation of cold, wet, and unexpected.
"What—"
"Shhh," I soothed, watching the red wine pool in her navel, then overflow and run in rivulets down her sides. "Just feel."
I dripped more wine between her breasts, watching it trail down the valley between them. Then I leaned down and licked it off her skin, my tongue following the path the wine had taken. She tasted of wine and salt and Sadie.
"Oh my God," she moaned as my mouth moved over her.
I dripped wine directly onto her nipple, then sucked it off, my teeth grazing the sensitive peak. Did the same to the other side. By now, she was writhing beneath me, her hands fisting in the couch cushions.
"More," she begged.
"More what?" I asked, trailing wine down her stomach again.
