Picking up the leather string, he wound it around the tail of her braid. “Anytime you work around fire, certain safety precautions must be taken. I like to make sure no loose hairs have a chance to be exposed to heat.”
Colleen’s shoulders sank into the mattress. The feel of a man’s fingers brushing through her hair was one of the more sensuous experiences she’d had.
“I also have a wet cloth nearby, so if anything is too hot for you, let me know, and I’ll place the towel on the area.” Tucking the braid up next to her head, he ran his fingers down her neck to her back, slowly rubbing away any tension.
“Isn’t this supposed to burn?” Colleen asked. “How will I know if it’s too hot?”
“Sting, yes. Some discomfort.” He dug his thumbs into her shoulder blades, and she let out a breathy sigh. “And depending on your tolerance for pain, it can hurt, if you’d like. But we won’t go that far tonight. If anything makes your eyes sting, let me know and I’ll ease off.”
Leaning over her body, Max picked up the midnight candle.
Colleen’s stomach fluttered, and she swore she could feel the air he displaced brush across her sensitive skin. Screwing her eyes shut, she waited for the splash of wax. The shocking heat that she remembered from her wrist.
Max smoothed a palm up her spine, and she flinched, expecting something else. The bastard had the nerve to chuckle. She opened her eyes, ready to shoot a glare over her shoulder, when the first spatter of liquid heat struck her skin.
She sucked in a gasp. Her brain scrambled, trying to interpret the sensation, figure out if it was pain or merely shock she felt. By the time she made up her mind, that it had been only a low-grade sting, another dollop landed on her shoulder.
He ran his hand soothingly up and down her side. “Too much?”
She considered. Her skin was sensitive where the wax had landed, starting to tighten as the wax dried. Her pulse raced. Her fingers tingled with the urge to touch him. And she still thought she was mad to agree to this.
But she felt alive. Exciting. Nothing like a decorous woman of business.
She shook her head. “More.”
The mattress shifted. Something velvety and warm dragged against her upraised bottom, and her core clenched, knowing just which part of Max it was.
The warmth of his cock was replaced by the heat of the wax. Gasping, she arched her back, the wax degrees more intense on the sensitive skin of her bum.
Max swirled the liquid heat around with his finger. “The blue wax looks striking against your fair skin. But this red wax … I think this is my favorite.”
Red, blue, white …. “Are you painting the Union Flag on my back?” From her perspective, the color of the wax didn’t matter. Just the heat.
He chuckled. “Nothing that patriotic. Or organized. Only a pattern that pleases my eye.” He trailed a line of wax over her bottom and down her upper thigh. She was starting to grow accustomed to the strange sensation. Her body welcomed the drizzled wax, instead of flinching away. She was content to let Max paint her any which way he wanted.
Becoming someone’s canvas held its appeal. In that moment, she was wiped clean, a blank slate for Max to fashion as he wished.
Max crawled off the bed, quickly returning. He placed the bowl of water with the towel soaking in it by her shoulder. “That is there only as a safety precaution. I want you to relax, but tell me immediately if anything feels too intense.”
Colleen licked her lips. “Um, what is it exactly you’re going to be doing?” The wax had been an easy introduction. But the image of fire racing up her skin was something she couldn’t fathom. Her heart pounded painfully behind her ribs. “I … I don’t want to burn.”
“I’ll only be touching your skin fleetingly with the flame.” Max kneaded the base of her skull with one hand. “It will be like when you put out a candle with your fingers. You don’t burn yourself when you do that, right?”
No, not when the contact was that quick. She was venturing into unknown waters. This went far past her comfort level. But she trusted the baron. Ever since the fire, he’d been there for her. A helping hand. She knew he felt responsible for her, and no other landlord would ever be so good to a tenant. Max didn’t understand how little responsibility he bore for her situation. But he was a good man. And he would never hurt her.
Flame hissed to life behind her, and Colleen slid her eyes shut, trying to keep her breathing even. Every inch of her skin tingled in anticipation. And anxiety. This was the moment when she did the most impractical thing ever. Where she let herself become a different person, if only for a night. “You’re certain I won’t be burned?” Why was she allowing this again?
“Positive.” He kissed her shoulder. “But I only want to do this if you want it. Tell me to stop and I will.”
And never know what she might be missing? She gathered her courage. “No, I want this.” She swallowed and nodded. “All right. I’m ready.”
Max didn’t waste time. Something soft and warm touched her spine, growing hot before flickering away. She eased out a breath. That wasn’t so bad. Barely warmer than when she held her hands in front of the fire.
The next vertebrae down received the same treatment. A tingling kiss. Growing heat. Dancing away a moment before it became painful.
Her body grew restless. “What is that?” she asked.
“I’ve fashioned a small torch by wrapping one end of a taper with a brandy-soaked cloth which I then set alight.” He ran his hand down her head and flicked the tail of her braid against her neck.
