“I want to touch you.” She didn’t sound like herself. Her voice was thready, weak. As if all the energy inside her gathered in the area he worked so skillfully with tongue and fingers. And lips. Damn, his lips. “Please, Cory.”
Rather than answer—his mouth was a little busy—he turned the hand on her belly palm up, and hell if the sight of his broad palm extended to hers didn’t make her eyes go damp.
She gripped his hand, squeezing tightly at his increased suction. He whispered things against her she could barely hear but somehow understood. Words like beautiful and perfect and the one that confused her and thrilled her most.
Mine.
He said that one over and over until it became the soundtrack to the torrent of pleasure crashing through her body, tipping her over into a climax so strong that she didn’t know if he groaned at the gush of wetness against his tongue or her vicious hold. Maybe both.
Afterward she drifted, barely aware of him moving back. She sighed at the loss of contact but she didn’t open her eyes, content to just float. A sound like ice clinking a glass made her eyelids flicker just as his warm palm covered her face.
“Wait, Vic.”
She was so far gone that she obeyed without thought. Her own scent on his skin filtered into her consciousness and made her smile.
“Ah, there it is. I haven’t seen that smile since the orgasm I gave you in the yoga studio. I’m greedy for them.” He pressed kisses to the corners of her mouth. “I want to watch you smile every time you come. If you don’t, I’ll just keep trying.”
Eyes still closed, she tried to follow his lips as he drew away. He chuckled while he moved the candles between her legs, his wrists brushing her with casual touches that drove her insane. Her heart pounded, the roar growing louder as she quaked with anticipation. She couldn’t decipher all the sounds and it was getting harder to keep her eyes shut—
Then she felt the first heated drop on her skin.
She fell back against the pillow and moaned. The sting swiftly transformed into a spreading warmth. At the end of the table, her heels clattered against the wood. She wanted to plant her feet and raise her hips, anything to get him to soothe the flash that arrowed straight between her legs.
“Do. Not. Move, Victoria.” His tone brooked no arguments.
Not that she had any to give. She was too loose and soft, too pliable and ready for whatever he had in mind. Pressing her lips together, she gripped the table and waited.
More drops trailed down her torso. She gasped freely, incapable of halting the sound. Lightning-quick, the burn worked its way inside her, lighting her up like a Roman candle. The singe straddled the line of pain as the wax accumulated, the heat growing until it changed into a sensation so pleasurable she nearly blacked out.
His hand was on her again, caressing the hot wax, his breath seeping out while he molded it. A subtle pressure on her belly made her go still. He tugged on her silver navel piercing, bringing her environment sharply into focus though she didn’t open her eyes.
She didn’t need to. Everything was so vivid. The pulsing music, the faint scent of the candles mixing with cherries and smoke, the delirious comfort of his touch.
She was his, had always been his, and now they both knew it.
His palms on her torso brought her back, warming her impossibly, trapping the fireball inside her as she fought not to writhe. The area at the apex of her thighs smoldered, and her body clenched futilely to be filled.
“Look now, Victoria.”
Fuzzily, she opened her eyes to the near-darkness and gasped at the candle sitting in a pool of its own wax on her stomach, the dancing flame transfixing her before she shifted her stunned gaze to Cory’s face. His eyes looked almost blue in the flickering light, the color more intense than she’d ever seen it.
“You…you shut out the light.”
“We don’t need it anymore.” Watching her, he drew his fingertips up the flame and she shredded the table with her nails to keep from moving. The sight was so erotic, so beyond anything she’d ever experienced before, that she couldn’t suck enough air into her lungs. “You’re the light now.”
His eyes riveted to hers, he lifted the candle and she moaned as the cooling paraffin left her skin. The remaining wax tightened and the feeling traveled through her body, inciting a powerful spasm in her core. Holding the candle close to her breasts, building her fearful anticipation, he tipped it slowly, letting the drops encircle first one nipple then the other.
Each strike made her gasp. And beg. Her vision blurred, her hands so tight on the table that they cramped. Another spasm seized her, more earth-shattering than the first. Ripping her open with its intensity. Then when she was sure, absolutely positive she couldn’t take another second, he set the candle back in the holder between her thighs and grabbed an ice cube, holding it against her bared nipple, surrounded in hot wax. His other hand cupped her, fingers spearing deep.