Her hands moved over him, an eye in every fingertip. Deprived of sight, she found that her fingers were extra sensitive. They saw as they touched, they absorbed every little bump and ripple on his skin as she stroked his chest, finding his nipples. Delicately, she licked her fingertips and caressed his nipples with the damp tips, feeling them lift and harden. She listened to his breathing, more aware of every sound in the stillness than she'd ever been before. The tiny hiss of a spurting candle, the rustle of her feet on the woven rug, the sudden catch in his breath when she slid her hands down over his rib cage into the concave space below. She played in his navel with a dampened fingertip, clasped his narrow waist between her hands.

He put his hand on her head, not hard but with an urgency, pushing her down. She slipped to her knees, her skirts billowing in an ivory corolla around her. Her hands gripped his buttocks, her thumbs pressing into the hard pelvic bones, and she nuzzled blindly against his belly, stroked with her tongue, before gathering his erect flesh on her tongue and drawing him into her mouth.

She moved her mouth up and down the hard pulsing stem, keeping her hands where they were, using only her face and her mouth to hold and caress him. She inhaled deeply of the scent of his arousal, savored the saltiness of his flesh on her tongue.

Leo looked down at her from the plane of his own bliss. Her upturned face was radiant, somehow made even more so by the black velvet scarf that prevented him from seeing the soul in her eyes. Her head was back, her throat a graceful white curve, as she pleasured him with an all-absorbing concentration. He knew as he looked down into her blind face that she was aware of nothing but his body so close to hers, of the taste, the scent, the feel of him, and his blood thrilled with a strange deep power.

Cordelia was lost in her own sense of power, the power she had to give him such pleasure. She could feel his joy in her fingertips, feel it on her tongue, at the back of her throat. She adored his body, reveled in what she was doing to him, gloried in the moment when she knew the merest flickering caress would cause him to plunge over the edge… gloried in the moment when it happened and his jubilant cry filled the room, his fingers twined in her hair, holding on as if she were his only rock in the storm that promised to sweep him away.

His grip loosened finally, but she remained on her knees, resting her head against his belly. His legs were braced as if he needed to withstand some force, but his hands on her face were gentle, stroking the curve of her cheek, lifting her chin to caress the soft tender flesh beneath. Then he took her hands and drew her firmly to her feet.

"Do you wish me to take off the scarf?"

Cordelia shook her head. "Not unless you wish to."

Leo smiled and kissed her, tasting his own salt essence on her lips. "What a wonderfully compliant lover you are, my sweet."

Cordelia smiled. "Do you?"

"No, I have a few other ideas up my sleeve." He drew her farther into the room and she clung to his hand, taking hesitant little steps, afraid to trip over something. "There, now stand quite still."

She felt him move away from her and was suddenly lost, but it was only for a moment. Then he was behind her, his fingers on the hooks at the back of her gown. She kept very still as he stripped her with unhurried movements, leisurely loosening each hook, each button, each tie, until she stood in her chemise, corset, stockings, garters, and shoes. She blinked behind the velvet blindfold, aware of the cool night air on her bared skin, seeing herself in her mind's eye as if she were looking at her image in a mirror.

She waited for him to untie the laces of her corset, and then caught her breath as she heard the snip of scissors and the garment fell from her.

His hands moved down her, pressing the thin chemise to her body, molding her breasts, the curve of her bottom. He kissed her throat, drew his tongue along the line of her jaw, traced the shape of her ear. Cordelia quivered, waiting for the unbearable yet exquisite moment when his tongue would delve into her ear. He knew the sensation drove her wild, but he teased for long minutes, his teeth nipping and tugging gently on her earlobe, his tongue stroking behind her ear, little darting thrusts within, withdrawn as soon as he felt her begin to shrink and shudder. Her blindness accentuated every sensation and every instant of anticipation. She couldn't see him, could only feel him, couldn't guess when the tantalizing would stop.

He clasped her head firmly between both hands, and she knew it was coming, was already wriggling and squirming. Then his tongue was ravaging her ear, sending her into helpless paroxysms where the line between torment and entrancement was so fine she couldn't possibly have drawn it.

He laughed as he held her still and his breath mingled hot with the dampness of his probing tongue. Cordelia tried to squiggle away, laughing even as she begged and pleaded for him to stop. But her excitement grew with every fruitless wriggle, and the sensations were all becoming mixed up so that she no longer knew which part of her body was responding.

When at last he took pity and raised his head, she sagged against him, exhausted by her struggles, weak with laughter and the pulsing arousal in her loins.

"I'd like you to finish undressing." His voice was almost shocking in her velvet darkness, banishing laughter. He spoke softly but definitely and she felt him step backward from her so that she was standing in her own cool space.

She kicked off her shoes and the carpet was coarse beneath her stockinged feet. She lifted the hem of the chemise and untied her garters. She rolled her stockings carefully to her ankles and drew them off her feet. Every movement was exaggerated by her sightlessness. She knew his eyes were upon her, watching every movement, but she could only imagine his gaze.

She dropped the stockings to the carpet and straightened. Where was he? Was he behind her, to the side, or facing her? She stood very still, trying to feel his presence. She couldn't even hear his breathing, couldn't sense the warmth of his skin. She turned slowly, moving her hands through the air. And encountered only air.

"Take the scarf off if you wish." The voice came from behind her. She spun around.

"No… no, I don't wish to. But I didn't know where you were."

"Why don't you wish to?" There was a low languorous note to his voice, a deep caressing invitation to enter a world he was creating for them both.

"I want to find out what happens," she replied without a moment's hesitation. "I feel so different… everything's different, new… I'm experiencing everything as if it's for the first time."

"Take off your chemise."

Cordelia caught the hem of the thin garment and drew it up her body and over her head. She tossed it aside and stood naked, the breeze from the open window cooling her heated skin.

"Turn around."

She obeyed, standing with her back to him, hands at her sides, every inch of skin alive, waiting, wondering when and where he would touch her. There was utter silence. Utter blackness.

Leo waited, forcing himself to keep still as he gazed upon her; the narrow back, the sharp pointed shoulder blades that he longed to touch with his tongue, the line of her spine, carved deep into her back, the indentation of her waist, the flare of her hips, the taut round cheeks of her bottom. He waited, knowing that as she stood there, her body, already aroused, was working its own magic under the orchestration of imagination.

When he touched her shoulder blades with a brush of a fingertip, she gave a startled little cry. He steadied her with a hand on her shoulder, then languidly traced the line of her spine with the pad of his thumb. His flat palm stroked over her bottom, then slid between her thighs. Cordelia quivered and again he steadied her with a hand on her shoulder while his fingers reached for her, dancing, probing, feeling her readiness as they slid inside her.

His tongue stroked upward along the grooved nape of her neck, then his hand left her shoulder, slipped round to clasp one breast, teasing her nipple as the hot moist caress on her neck continued and his fingers opened inside her while his thumb played on the hard nub of her sex.

Cordelia no longer knew which part of her was responding to which exquisite caress. The hard lines of her body were fluid, and she seemed to be adrift in a world without physical boundaries. Her eyes were now centered inward on herself, and she could almost see the blood moving through her veins, her soft nether lips pink and swollen with joyous need, the pulsing of her thudding heart.

And yet the explosion took her by surprise. It was as if she were consumed in a roaring conflagration; her skin was on fire, her blood was molten lava as the searing bliss devoured her.

The flames were still roaring in her ears when Leo toppled her forward. She felt the soft arm of the sofa under her belly, her arms stretched out in front of her, her toes touching the carpet. Holding her hips he entered her while the conflagration still raged and the new sensation of his hard driving flesh added fuel to the flames. She no longer knew who or what she was, aware only of flesh and blood united, the point where Leo's body was separate from her own blurred beyond definition.

Leo felt as if he had limitless staying power. He felt as if he were drifting godlike above the two joined bodies, capable of bringing them both to the extremes of physical bliss. He was filled with the burning need to take his lover to the top of her mountain, to the absolute pinnacle beyond which there was only infinity. And he would do this not once but many, many times during the next hours. He wanted to brand her with his lovemaking so that nothing and no one would ever erase the glorious memories of this night.