Red Handed(29)

“You may be right. Did you know Da Vinci was obsessed with mirrors? He believed if you stood in front of a six-way mirror, you could see all the different facets of a person.” He inched forward and planted his hands on her thighs, then spread her wide open. “I think it’s possible to achieve the same with a camera. Let’s find out all of yours.”

A small gasp popped out of her as he bent her knees and crawled between them, wearing a grin rivaling the Mona Lisa.

“All we’ll need is some hot wax.”





Chapter Eleven


DANIELLE TRIED TO keep calm despite having Cole between her naked thighs. “Hot wax? Does it hurt?”

He absentmindedly caressed her kneecaps. “I promise it’s not my intention to inflict any pain. They’re special candles specifically designed and marketed for wax play. As you’ve seen, my photographs are in black and white with a hint of color. To keep my hands free, I’ve set the cameras on timers. I’m going to drip different colors of hot wax on your body as the cameras shoot. If the wax hurts, tell me and I’ll stop.”

He left her spread open as he collected a few colored candles from a table in the corner of the alcove. All the reservations she’d carried about baring her body had disappeared. Although she was the one exposed and on display, a sense of strength and power filled her. She wasn’t embarrassed.

But she was embarrassingly wet.

She loved being on this side of the camera. Loved the way Cole’s eyes had darkened and his gaze locked on her damp pussy. And as he turned from the table and sauntered toward her, his arms loaded up with candles, her own gaze flew to the outline of his erection through his jeans.

She’d caused it.

He kneeled beside her and set the candles on the floor, eying her hungrily. “I had no intention of touching you today, other than what was necessary for the photographs. But the way you’re laid out for me with that glistening pussy and those pebbled nipples . . . I’m not that strong. Say yes, Danielle. Tell me I can touch you and taste you.”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation, not wanting him to change his mind.

Then his hands were on her, one caressing the curve of her collarbone while the other swept from her neck to her breastbone. “Softest skin.” He bent to her breast, taking his time to lick around the areola before pulling the tip into his mouth and sucking on it. Nibbling on it. Setting her body on fire. She couldn’t imagine the wax making her skin any hotter.

She watched his eyes close as he seemed to concentrate on her breast, his facial hair abrading her skin.

Her hands clenched with a need to spear her fingers into his hair and hold him to her chest. This felt like lovemaking. Not art. For a moment, she permitted herself the fantasy that Cole wanted her as more than his slave. That his mouth was on her breasts not because of the photographs or because he was her Master, but because he was falling in love with her.

Her imagination ran wild with the fantasy of him sliding his cock between her breasts and climaxing on her skin. She wanted him to brand her with his teeth. Claim her with his cock.

He growled against her chest. “You taste so fucking good.” He moved to her other breast and dragged his teeth from the lower swell of her breast over her nipple.

Since she first saw him when she was a seventeen-year-old virgin, she’d felt a connection to him. An invisible tether drawing her to him. When they shared the same air, her other senses were enhanced. Everything became clearer when she was with him, almost as though she’d been living her life looking through distorted glass.

But right now, she didn’t care. Nothing else mattered but the feel of him playfully tugging on her nipple.

With a muttered curse, he released her nipple and picked up a candle.

Her heart drummed a staccato beat, and her hips arched as her arousal built. She felt feverish, her skin tight. Her breasts ached, and her juices dripped down her thighs.

On display, she was naked, completely bared to him with her knees spread wide enough for him to witness her extreme arousal.

It was wanton and dirty. And she loved it.

With a match in hand, Cole lit a green candle and held it over her.

She held her breath, afraid to move.

The first drop of hot wax hit her stomach, right above her belly button. Her body bowed, the shock of it drawing a soft cry from her lips. The wax’s heat quickly dissipated but left her aware of her sensitive skin.

“Too hot, darlin’?” he asked. “If it is, say the word, and I’ll stop.”

She shook her head. “No. Don’t stop.”

He licked his lips as he tipped the candle over her breastbone, dripping the wax between her breasts and lower, down her belly. Her legs. Her arms. He blew out the candle and lifted another one over her, trailing the wax in what seemed like circular patterns.