Rare Blend (Red Mountain #1)

36. Marisa

CHAPTER 36

Marisa

TASTE IT

I t’s been three hours. Three hours of overthinking. Three hours of my mind reeling. And the power is still out. At first, it didn’t bother me, but now the sun is going down and the cottage is getting colder.

And still no Ethan. Not a call, not a text, nothing.

A firm knock at the door has me practically jumping out of my skin.

I answer it and find Ethan standing on my porch steps. He changed. Earlier, he was wearing a flannel with a canvas vest and jeans, and now, he’s wearing slim-fit jeans, nicer ones in a darker shade, and a forest-green henley that brings out the green in his hazel eyes.

“Hey,” he says with his hands in his pockets. “Can I come in?”

I nod, stepping back from the door and opening it wider so he can pass through. A stupid mistake on my part. His smell invades my senses, and my knees start to wobble. My arms fold across my chest. Some form of self-protection, I guess. As he walks by me, I give him a once-over, my cheeks instantly heating as my eyes flash to his crotch. Earlier today, I had his rock-hard dick in my hands, and now, I don’t know how to act like a normal person.

He’s been inside for a second, and I’m overwhelmed. Not necessarily by him, but by the situation and where we go from here. It’s enough to make me spiral.

I cough, swallow, and take a deep breath, trying to compose myself.

“The power is still out, huh?”

Obviously, Marisa.

“Yeah. I can’t remember it ever being out this long. We had to shut down business for the day, but there were still a lot of orders that had to be picked up. It was kind of a shit show.”

“Why’s that? Just the chaos?”

His shoulders lift, and our eyes meet. “That and I had to talk to a bunch of people.” He cringes, and some of the unease hanging in the air gradually lightens.

“Oh, no. Not people.”

“Don’t make fun of me. It was very exhausting.”

I let out a bubbly laugh, daring to get closer. “You poor baby.”

Ethan takes a steady step toward me, and one side of his mouth curves up in a lopsided grin.

But it drops before I get to enjoy it. “What the fuck is that?”

I look back over my shoulder at the kitchen, where I have several bottles of wine spread across the counter.

And they’re not Ledger wine.

Oops.

Ethan brushes past me and picks up the first bottle, reading the label in disbelief. “Why is Cole’s wine on my property?”

Oh, Jesus. Here we go. “It’s not Cole’s wine, it’s Benton wine.”

He releases a dry, humorless huff. “Like there’s a difference.”

I almost forgot how hot he looks when he’s upset. He’s been so nice lately.

“It’s work related.”

His eyes cut to mine. “How so?” he grits.

“Benton remodeled their tasting room, and they’re doing a grand reopening next week. I was trying to educate myself, learn the tasting notes and what not.”

Some of the annoyance softens around his eyes. But only slightly. “If you want to learn about wine, come to me.”

I wasn’t trying to learn about wine in general. I was trying to learn about Benton wine, but I don’t correct him.

“Come on.” He grabs my hand, dragging me toward the front door.

“Where are we going?” I ask, letting him pull me to keep feeling his hand over mine.

“Back to the winery.”

“How is it warm in here?”

“Backup generators. We can’t afford for the atmosphere in the temperature-controlled rooms to change.”

Ethan leads me to the empty tasting room. I’ve never been inside after hours. A single row of dim recessed lights illuminates the space.

“Are we the only ones here?”

“Yeah, I sent everyone home.” Ethan points to the barstool. “Sit,” he commands.

“We don’t have to do this right now. We can wait until after Thanksgiving when the winery is open.”

The look he gives me tells me there won’t be any changing his mind.

I take a seat, and he sets down two glasses for me and him.

“Too many people. I think a little privacy is needed for today’s lesson.”

Okay, well, that sounded dirty. Involuntarily, my thighs squeeze together, hidden by the imposing marble counter. Ethan’s eyes drag from mine, down my neck, stopping at the cleavage poking out over my top, leaving a path of heat in their wake. He pulls his bottom lip in with his teeth, and a spark ignites in my core.

“What’s the lesson?” I squeak, my voice revealing how much his eye-fuck affected me.

A haughty grin tugs at his lips. “Wine tasting, of course.”

Of course. Because why would I be thinking about anything else?

He starts opening one of the bottles, a loud pop sounding as he pulls out the cork. He grabs my glass and pours the deep-burgundy liquid.

While pouring his own glass he says, “This bottle is this year’s Ledger Estate Red Blend.” His voice is a low murmur.

With both glasses holding a decent pour, our eyes meet and the room seems to shrink, the air growing heavier by the second.

“Taste it,” he commands.

I think I’m going to melt into a puddle. I’m not mature enough for this. He says taste it, and it takes all of my willpower for my eyes to not stare directly at his dick.

I pick up the glass and bring it to my lips, but he stops me.

“Wait.”

My body freezes, waiting for his next command.

“Look at it first,” he continues. “I know it’s not very bright in here, but hold it up and let the light catch it.”

I do as I’m told, holding it up for the dim light above to shine against the glass.

“You’re looking for clarity, if there’s any sediment.”

I honestly cannot see anything, but I’m playing along because every other word out of his mouth sounds like an innuendo.

“Now, bring it down and swirl it gently before you smell it.”

Following his directions, I do exactly that, inhaling the spicy aroma.

“Now you can taste it,” he tells me, his voice a husky whisper.

I take a sip, closing my eyes as the liquid slides down my throat and spreads warmth through my chest.

When my eyes reopen, Ethan is no longer standing on the other side of the bar. Instead, he’s next to me, spinning me in the swiveling bar stool. My legs fall open for him naturally, allowing him to step closer, my inner thighs brushing against his outer thighs.

My erratic heartbeat is so loud, I’m sure he can hear it. He leans in, and the world outside of this moment ceases to exist. It’s only us and our warm breaths intermingling with one another. His heated, intense gaze sends thrums of anticipation through me, while an overwhelming desire blooms at my core, growing, building. I lean closer, on the cusp of begging.

“What did you taste?” he whispers against my lips.

“I…I…” My voice is a tremble. And just when I think he’s going to kiss me, he pulls away.

“Let’s try the next one, yeah?” He walks back around the bar and works at opening another bottle. Not particularly rushed, every move calm and steady. Meanwhile, I’m about to combust.

He fills another glass. This time, the liquid is a lighter red, almost hot pink. “With this one, after you take a sip, swirl it around in your mouth before you swallow. It’ll release the aromas and let you evaluate the mouthfeel.”

Swirl?

Swallow?

Mouthfeel?

Is wine tasting supposed to sound pornographic?

We lock eyes. The man is pure evil. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

Well, two can play at that game.

I fix my eyes on him and tip my head back, taking a sip. And just as he instructed, I swirl it around, letting the liquid coat my mouth before swallowing it loudly. Just to fuck with him, I drop open my mouth and stick my tongue out. I may not be able to read his mind, but I’d bet good money he’s picturing slapping his dick against it.

His eyes flare with heat, and a devilish grin spreads across my face.

“Brat,” he mutters.

I’ve decided he’s had too much control, and I think it’s time he lost some of it. I slide out of the barstool and walk around, meeting him on his side of the bar as he watches me curiously.

“The lesson isn’t over yet,” he tells me as I inch closer.

“Let’s take a break.”

I reach for his belt, and he tenses but doesn’t stop me. Once it’s undone, I pull it off and let it fall to the floor. It lands with a clack as the buckle meets the tile. Keeping a steady stare, I slowly drop to my knees in front of him and tip my chin up to see his tense jaw and bewildered eyes. “I want something else in my mouth.”

He sucks in a breath, and I lick my lips.

“Fuck,” he breathes.

I was feeling overly confident, but now that I’m on my knees in front of him, some of that confidence is waning. This is a big step, a giant leap from some heavy kissing and a little hand action. If we do this, there really is no going back. But maybe I don’t want to go back. Maybe I’m done trying to convince myself that I don’t want this man with every fiber of my being.

“Marisa,” he says softly. Gone is the commanding man, and back is my Ethan. The version of him reserved for me. “You don’t have to?—”

I don’t second guess it. I undo his button and rip down his zipper. He sucks in a sharp breath as my hand wraps around his cock over his tented boxer briefs. In one swift motion, I pull down his jeans and boxers, and his cock springs free, fully erect, hardened, with a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip. And fuck, is it massive, just inches from my face. Now I’m nervous for an entirely different reason.

“Eyes up here, baby.”

My eyes shift from his cock up to those hooded hazels. He looks drugged, barely restraining himself. I keep my focus trained on him as I open up my mouth and take him, going as far as I can until his tip is down my throat. Ethan’s head falls back, and he groans.

“Holy fuck.” His voice is a moaning whisper, husky and shaky. And it’s because of me. Because he’s entirely bound by my will. Right now, I own him.

As my mouth bobs, I use one hand to pump him and the other to gently caress his balls. His hands tangle in my hair, gripping it roughly. He tugs on it and flexes his hips, fucking my face. Breathing through my nose, I try to take him deeper, and my nose gets flooded with his musky scent that forces a moan out of me. The sound vibrates up my throat.

“You like sucking my cock, don’t you?” He sounds equally turned on and shocked, as if no one could ever enjoy this.

I drop my hand from his balls, unbutton my pants, and start touching myself. I was already wet from the naughty wine tasting, but now I’m soaked.

Ethan’s surprised eyes look down at me in complete amazement.

I jerk my head faster, pumping and twisting his base with my hand, all the while never breaking eye contact.

“Your mouth feels too good, baby,” he grits. “I’m going to come embarrassingly fast.”

His words only encourage me to move even faster.

“Fuuuuuck,” he drags.

With a deep breath, I pass the point I thought I could take him and go deeper. My eyes water, and a lewd choking sound comes up my throat. “That’s it, baby, choke on my cock like a good girl.”

His filthy words cause my pussy to throb, and I start grinding my hips, chasing relief.

“I’m close. Pull away now if you don’t want me to finish in your mouth.”

I do the opposite and maintain my pace. Seconds later, his cock is twitching and jerking, his cum spilling into my mouth. The moaning that escapes him is feral and animalistic, and I fucking love it. When he’s done, he slowly releases his cock from my mouth, but I remain on my knees, teary-eyed. When our eyes meet, I drop open my mouth to show him his cum sitting on my tongue.

He crouches down and drags his thumb along my jaw. “Holy shit,” he says softly, drawing in a breath. “You look so good with a mouthful of cum. Now swirl it around in your mouth before you swallow.”

I do as I’m told, just like I did with the wine, and make an exaggerated, audible swallow.

“Where did you come from?” he says in disbelief.

He crushes his mouth to mine, obviously not caring that he can taste himself. The kiss is blazing and intense. It’s a thank you. He pulls me closer, and I wind my hands around his neck.

Slowly, he drags us to a standing position and pulls away from our kiss, leaning his forehead against mine. “That was the best blow job of my life.” His breath fans my damp lips.

I giggle quietly and take a step back. So much just happened. My mind is reeling. With my head down and back turned, I hear Ethan zip up his pants.

A pit of insecurity forms in my stomach. Dread creeps in where I once felt powerful. Was that too much? Does he think less of me now that I’ve sucked his dick without so much as a date? I feel like that stupid archaic saying about buying the cow and free milk. I don’t know where to go from here or what this means?—

Soft lips meet the exposed skin on my shoulder and start littering light kisses. Instantly, the tension drops and my head flops to the side. His lips work their way up to my ear, and his warm breath tickles me.

“Now sit on the bar and spread those thighs. We’re not leaving this room until I get to taste you.”