Excerpt: untitled

I lay there, gazing at burgundy darkness, and listened to him moving, the scratch of something being put down, and then he circled the bed to stand by my head. The scent of something came to my nose; sweet, floral, delicate, and the source was brushed over my smiling lips, a flower. Smiling, I giggled, and pursed my lips to press a soft kiss to it before he drew it away, up along my cheekbone and then down along the line of my jaw. He traced my throat with the flower, and the curve of my collarbone over to my shoulder, and down to circle a breast with the trailing bloom before letting it settle there between them, the stem a light and faintly scratching contact to my skin as I breathed, my chest rising and falling.

Away he stepped again, and now my heart pounded in curiosity, wondering what he might be bringing to my skin this time. I hadn’t long to wait - but the next thing came as a surprise it was a soft contact, but not just one. Many little patters of something soft, cool, and - as I discovered when they fluttered audibly down onto my face as well as my breasts, throat, stomach, legs - lightly perfumed in a familiar way. It was a scent that had been faintly lingering upon the bed when I crawled onto it, and more recently had flooded my senses as he caressed me with the flower.

"Can you tell me, my lovely, my blossom - and if you can, I'll reward you with my touch again-" something settled against my mound, a small weight that was followed by a scratching sensation between my thighs. A stem, again. A second flower. "Tell me what this is that I sprinkle upon you." Waiting for my reply, he scattered more of them, until I felt like they were a soft and interlocking blanket covering me. I could see myself, then, in my mind's eye as if I were gazing down upon myself.

"Rose petals," I said quietly, confidence in my voice, and a heat surging through me as I waited for his touch. "Yes, lovely. Yes..." he murmured, and cut himself off with the press of lips upon my lips, his body laying down upon my own, crushing out the suddenly thick scent of roses from the scattered layer of petals separating us.