Cora suddenly realizes she’s been staring and turns her head away.
“You don’t have to avert your eyes,Bellissima,they want you to look, to enjoy them,” I purr, squeezing her shoulders. “Half their pleasure comes from knowing others are watching.”
She looks up, over her shoulder at me. “I don’t want anyone to watch us.”
Kissing her on her delicious, red mouth, I tell her, “Good, because I won’t share you. Not in any way.” Her shoulders slump in relief and I take her hand again, walking slowly through the cavernous main room. There are members who recognize me, nodding or raising their glass in greeting, but I don’t stop. I can feel her rising discomfort and know we’ll have to take this one step at a time.
Entering the dark red hall, we walk slowly past the viewing rooms, and I’m watching closely to see if she lingers at any of them.
“What… is that thing?” she whispers.
“It’s a tail for pet play,” I explained.
“How is it staying on her?” Her eyes are wide, but I can’t tell if it’s from fascination or fear.
“The tail is attached to an anal plug, it stays in beautifully during all kinds of play,” I lean so close that my lips brush against her ear, and she shivers.
Dannazione,goddamn! This woman is killing me. Chuckling, I let her pull me away. “Do you want to go to our private room?” I whisper, kissing her neck.
She’s eyeing the people who are enjoying the view in the various rooms and nods fervently. “Alone. We should be alone.”
Our private suite is pristine, with a flower arrangement and a tray of food and wine on the table. Cora’s breath quickens when she sees the black padded bench in the center of the room. Stepping behind her, I pull her back against me, letting her feel my painfully hard erection poking into her back.
“Do you trust me,Bellissima?”I’m kissing softly down her neck as she stares at the bench, considering my question.
“I trust… that you won’t really hurt me,” she said hesitantly.
Squeezing her hips, I said, “That’s a start. Do you know what this bench is for?” She shook her head. “Fire play. It requires complete trust, the ability to force down your body’s instinctive response to flame.”
I gather her thick hair in my hands, coiling it up on the top of her head and pinning it in place. Unzipping her dress slowly, I groan as her pretty breasts are displayed, her pink nipples already taut. Sliding it off, I turn her to face the mirror, positioned in front of the bench.
“I put on a glove and douse it with rubbing alcohol,” I explain, cupping and stroking her breasts. “I lay you out on this table, I can start with your back. Holding a candle to the glove, I set it alight and run the glove quickly over your skin.”
“Wh- what does it feel like?” she asked in a voice high enough to attract seagulls.
“Heat,” I murmured, kissing the other side of her neck. “A prickle, occasionally a sting.”
Her eyes meet mine in the mirror. “Why do you want to do this?”
Groaning, I suck on the curve of her shoulder. “Because you have the most beautiful fucking skin. It’s so smooth and it glows under the light. You will be exquisite with the flame running along your body.”
“You’ve done it before?” Cora asks.
“Yes.” I’m about to add, “Many times,” but she may not appreciate that.
“You’ll stop if I want you to?” She’s holding on to my wrist tightly, her nails digging in and trying to anchor herself.
“Yes. Always. Do you have a safe word?” I asked.
Giggling, she shakes her head as if the thought of having had a safe word is ridiculous.
Thinking of how her voice rises when she’s nervous, I say, “Seagull. That’s your safe word. If you say it, I stop everything and we talk about what you’re feeling. Say it back.”
“Seagull,” she agrees.
“Do you want to try this?” I ask, kissing her hand and each finger.
“I trust you,” she repeats it back like a mantra and I kiss her.
