Tied in Silence

Evening was falling softly, as if someone had wrapped the world in a veil of dusk. The bathroom was filled with warm shadows – just a few candles flickered gently on the windowsill. Their light danced across the walls, the water, my skin. The scent of rose was thick, sensual, clinging to my body and drifting into my breath.

I sank into the tub slowly, as if the water could cleanse not just the day’s dust, but the thoughts I hadn’t invited. Warmth wrapped around me instantly, up to my chest. My hair clung to my skin – wet from the bath, cascading over my shoulders and neck like a lover who knew every inch of me.

I closed my eyes.

I thought of him. Mike. Of how it began – rough, intense, like we’d recognized something in each other that had been missing everywhere else. Dominance. Submission. Bodies speaking louder than words. And now… something had changed. It was still passionate, but softer. Deeper. Warmth not just in touch, but in the way he looked at me. The way he left his key on my table.

Then… the air shifted.

I didn’t realize at first that I wasn’t alone anymore.

Not until something soft touched my forehead. Fabric – familiar, smooth. Slowly it slid across my skin. His hands tied it gently over my eyes. A scarf. Mine? Or maybe his tie.

The world disappeared.

Only darkness remained… and the thick scent of roses in the candlelight.

But then, something broke through. A different note. Warm, masculine, familiar. Mike.

I felt his breath near my ear. Warm. Close. Then — a kiss. Soft, just beneath my ear. Then another, lower. His mouth knew my skin, knew it well.

My heart raced. I surrendered.

His lips moved to mine.

He kissed me.

Deeply. Slowly. Like time had paused.

The water stirred as he lifted me and placed me on the edge of the tub. My feet stayed in the water, and my body shivered slightly from the contrast of warmth and chill.

He left. Just for a moment.

Then I felt him again. Standing between my legs. His hand brushed along the inside of my thigh, slowly, purposefully. In his other hand — something cool.

Glass.

He brought it to my lips. I opened for him. My tongue circled the glass. Gave it warmth. Prepared it.

Then — I felt that same coldness lower, touch me.

Slide inside.

Orgasm came like a storm. Intense. Raw. A cry tore from my throat. My heart pounded. My body arched, full of something I couldn’t name.

And then… longing.

For him. Fully. Truly.

But instead, he kissed me. Softly. As if to say, “I’m here.” As if this end was just a beginning.

He untied the scarf.

I opened my eyes.

And we smiled at each other — in silence, in presence, in something that didn’t need a name.