I looked at him. “Naughty Dragon.”
“Come burn me, Tora.” He licked his lips. His chest rose and fell faster now. His hands had curled into fists above the restraints. And between his legs. . .
Those tiny leather shorts had gotten tighter. Much tighter. The fabric stretched over the thick length of him, straining against the obvious outline of his cock.
Big.
Hard.
Ready.
He was aroused just from watching me learn to wield fire.
Heat pooled between my thighs. My pussy was warm, wet, and wanting.
Hiroko spoke, "Again, but try the other arm. I want you to be comfortable."
“Okay.” I dipped the wand.
Lit it.
Brought it to my skin.
Another stroke.
Another burst of heat.
Another rush of sensation that traveled from my arm straight to my core.
Kenji groaned.
Damn. . .that one was even better.
It was so good that I feared I would be an addict to this. Just sitting up in my bedroom and burning myself until I came.
Without Hiroko saying anything, I did it again.
And again.
Each pass more confident than the last.
Each flame leaving warmth in its wake, leaving want, leaving power.
By the fourth pass, my thighs were pressing together on their own. By the fifth, I could feel my pulse between my legs—heavy, insistent, demanding. The leather panties were slick. Ruined. And I hadn't even touched him yet.
Kenji watched every pass. Every stroke. His breathing had changed—rougher, faster, his chest rising and falling like a man running. The shorts had gotten obscene. His cock was straining so hard against the leather that I could see the big ridge of his mushroomed head through the fabric.
He wanted me, and he was damned sure ready to burn. . .
And God help me, I wanted to burn him.
And then, I felt it.
Domspace rising within me. This sensual power crept into my bloodstream. Slow at first, then building.
That sense of control.
That sense of power.
