And again.
My eyes stung, a myriad of emotions filling me as heat traced over the same place, deliberate and slow.Not random drops this time.This was purposeful.Intentional.
Like he was writing something.
I didn’t know what.
But my chest tightened with something fierce, something that hurt and soothed all at once.
When he was done, the bed dipped.I couldn’t see him, but I could almost feel his gaze traveling along every inch of me, admiring his work.
Then the sweet scent of cinnamon came close again.A drop by my hip.Another a little lower.My body tensed, anticipation knotting so tightly I could barely breathe, especially as he neared my clit.
Was he going to drip wax on me there?How would that feel?Would it be too much?
I braced myself for the pain, knowing Henry would never do anything to hurt me.
But instead of the burning sting of wax, a sudden vibration pulsed against my clit.
I cried out, the sensation almost more painful than the wax.Because it felt so damn good.I surrendered to it, each vibration propelling my body higher until I was on the verge of shattering into a thousand tiny pieces.
Which was the precise moment Henry pulled the vibrator away, leaving me a quivering, panting mess.
Then heat consumed me, a sharp drop of wax landing exactly where the vibration had been.
My scream felt silent in the enclosed world of darkness as I fought against my restraints.
But I still didn’t give him my safe word.I needed this.Needed the pain.
Because I knew it would be followed by a pleasure unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
And that was precisely what happened.A wet cloth wiped away the wax before Henry pressed the toy back against me, sending shockwaves through me so intense I couldn’t tell where pain ended and need began.
The pattern kept repeating.
Vibration.Heat.Pleasure.
Wax.Pain.Bliss.
His hands steadied me.His breath ghosted over the skin he’d set on fire.
Just when I thought I might break, he brought the toy back up to me.But instead of pressing it against my clit, he slid it inside me, the deep pulse stealing my last coherent thought, especially when he closed his mouth over my clit, consuming and devouring me.
Every sensation collided.The lingering burn.The cool air.The vibration inside me.Henry’s mouth pulling pleasure from me in deliberate, torturous strokes.
I spiraled fast.Too fast.
But right before I hit that peak I was desperately chasing, he stopped.
A whimper tore out of me.Or maybe it was a scream.I couldn’t be sure.All I knew was his absence was the cruelest form of torture, the pain of being deprived of my release worse than any burning wax.
My breath echoed in my ears, my heart feeling like it was about to burst out of my ribcage as I waited for what was to come.
And then I felt it again.
The wax on my clit.I arched off the bed, panting, moaning, walking the perilous tightrope between pleasure and pain once more.
He pressed his hand to my stomach, gluing me to the mattress, and repeated the same process.
