Striding to the bureau, Max pulled a taper from a three-pronged candelabra. He lifted the glass cover off an oil lamp on the wall and lit the candle from the flame. He turned, and Colleen’s breath caught in her throat.
Every time she saw him she never failed to have a reaction. His length jutted from the soft nest of dark hairs, semi-hard, but long and thick. Unabashed, he stalked towards her, his cock bobbing. When he reached the bed, she stretched her hand out again and gently cupped him.
Max let her explore. Wrapping her fingers around him, she fisted him down to his base. Achingly slowly, she slid her hand up and rubbed her palm over his crown. Her hand came away sticky.
“On your back,” he ordered.
Colleen rolled and scooted to the middle of the bed. Her fingers tingled with excitement, and her gaze tracked every flicker of the candle’s flame.
“I don’t have a torch available to bounce the flame off of you, but there is a bottle of brandy on the side table.” Max traced a pattern on her stomach with his index finger, her skin fluttering wherever he touched. “I would love to paint a pattern on your skin with the alcohol. Then see it come to life with flames.”
She froze. “You want to actually set me alight? Not just touch me with the flame?”
Max sat next to her, shifting close. “Yes. Brandy burns at a low temperature. It will ignite, the flames streaking across your body along the path I create, warming your skin just until you start to squirm before I smother the flames.” His voice was low and dusky. With the back of his fingers, he caressed the swell of her breast. “It is the purest expression of trust between a man and a woman that I know.”
If he had plunged a dagger in her heart it couldn’t have hurt more. She closed her eyes and fought against the tears. He trusted her. Enough to want to share this most intimate act.
And she was lying to him.
She understood what he meant. There was no way she could keep her walls, stop him from seeing straight into her heart, if she opened herself up to Max and his fire. She would be completely exposed.
It was something she desperately wanted. And something she couldn’t allow. The look in Max’s eyes as he gazed upon her was too precious. She couldn’t lose it. Not yet.
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but no. I’m not ready for that.” Would never be ready.
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. Without his beard, Colleen could read him so much more easily. At that moment, she wished she couldn’t. She hated to see his disappointment.
“No need to apologize,” he said. “I understand. You need to completely trust the person holding the candle.”
Her lungs squeezed tight. “I do trust you. Just …”
“Not enough for this.”
Jackknifing up, Colleen rolled to her knees and cupped his smooth cheek. “I trust you more than anyone. But I don’t think I can let someone actually set me on fire. For me, that’s a step too far. Please understand.”
He turned his face, pressing a kiss into her palm. “I do. And I would love nothing more than to paint your body with wax from this candle. If that still appeals to you, lay back. If it doesn’t, I’m happy to blow out every damn flame and take you in the dark. I’ll take you any way I can get you.”
Colleen’s throat grew thick. Pressing her lips to his neck, she felt the strong beat of his blood pulsing through his body. No man had ever said anything so dear to her, and she would treasure the words forever.
“Keep the candle.” She rolled back and stretched her hands to the headboard. “Make me squirm.”
Max crawled over her. “My favorite job.” Keeping the candle held aloft, Max worshipped her body with his mouth. His lips tickled the hollow of her throat. His teeth scraped along her ribs. Everywhere he touched was a tease, a nip, a lave. By the time he was done, her skin was so sensitive, it felt as though only the thinnest threads held her together.
She reached for him. “Come here.”
He shook a finger and pushed her hands back. “Open up,” he said, nudging her jaw.
Brows lowered, she opened her mouth, and he stuck the taper into it. She squawked around it.
“Just one second.” Laughter filled his voice as he took the belt of her robe and tied her wrists together. He knotted the end of the sash around the truss of the headboard.
She glared at him around the candle, feeling as absurd as she must have looked.
He plucked the taper from her mouth. “Thanks.”
“That was disgusting.” She licked the pillow next to her, trying to scrape off the taste of wax.
“But it accomplished what I wanted.” Straddling her body, he sat down, the hair on the back of his thighs tickling her hips. “Now, be a good girl and thrash around a bit.” One side of his mouth curled devilishly up, and he tipped the candle. A drizzle of white wax rained down on her left breast.
