T H E T A S T E… wine brewed with spices. Popularly known as Mulled wine, this type of wine is served hot or warm. In short, it’s wine with an attitude. A drink that combines sweet with heat and isn’t what you’d expect something “sophisticated” like wine to taste like.
TITLE: S P I C E D W I N E
The crackle of fire slow dancing over charred logs filled the quiet space when we collapsed beside each other. Our chests moved in sync, us both fighting to pull in air.
Finally relaxed, I rolled over in his direction and rested my head on his bicep.
On the mattress.
On top of the covers.
I did my best to catch my breath while trying to steady the rhythm of my heart. My pulse had finally calmed some, and I went from being hot to my sweat cooling my skin. I lifted my hand to pet his chest and I caught a glimpse of the crimson line around my wrist. Red lines etched by silver cuffs that held my arms up to the bars of our headboard by the cuffs’ chains moments ago. He told me he’d clasp them tight so that I wouldn’t break free so I told him to do them tighter than that.
My walls reacted to just the thought. Deliciously tender from the fuck it received within that same hour. He used the length of him to provide decadent deep strokes after he spread my legs wide, testing my flexibility. The concise diving he performed only stopping when I couldn’t take any more of him. The grip of his fingers around my slim neck sent my eyes rolling, my back peeling off the mattress and me submitting.
He tattooed both sides of my neck with love bites. And I was sure he left his handprint on the curve of my ass, branding me.
A battle of the sexes was what I likened it to.
You can keep the whispering of sweet nothings in the ear while in the act.
I simply didn’t care for that slow romantic sex… it just wasn’t my thing.
But strong arms holding me down, even stronger hands gripping my strands. Pulling hard enough to make my mouth parallel with the ceiling as my throat became delicate from vocalizing my delight.
That was more my forte.
We spoke no words when we were done.
In this moment as he held me close we were just there.
My left leg draped over his.
The throb of my lower lips hot against his limbs.
I craned my neck to look up in his eyes and he met his gaze with mine. He stroked my chin then dipped his head low enough to press his lips to my forehead. I moved my body even closer to his wanting to feel his every breath, wrapping my arm around his torso tighter.
In love with our brand of love…
Because he gets me.
He knows me.
He understood without me having to tell him that even though I preferred it rough, I was still sensitive as fuck.
Tomorrow at midnight… S P I K E D P U N C H.
Previously… C H A M P A G N E