"Don't worry, baby. I'll take care of you." The rich timbre of Jake's voice gathered her thoughts to him, holding her in his will.
She sighed, comforted.
"Time for something new. Open up." With firm hands, he pulled her buttocks outward slightly.
Buttocks. Wait. "Uhhh." She squeezed her muscles to prevent the intrusion.
"We've done this before, sweetling, and you enjoy it." He held her open, and the feel of his hands on her bottom, the acknowledgment of his complete control, sent a wash of desire through her.
As he pushed the slickened plug against her anus, her rectal muscles fought and lost. In it went, stretching her. Nerves sizzled to life around the anal rim, somehow connecting with her core and sending heat boiling upward.
A second later, the pump ring once again covered her pussy. The suction started, fattening her labia, sucking on her clit. The pressure increased, more and more, higher than before. Her entire lower half grew stretched and throbbingly taut.
The sounds from other scenes in the room drifted to her. Murmurs and groans. The harsh smack of a flogger. The lighter slaps of a cane. Through the dark glasses, she saw Master Jake, taller than trees, and his broad shoulders and chest blocked out the wall behind him.
He flattened his palm on her belly, and his fingers lingered on the bare places between the lines of wax. "Your pussy is getting slick and puffy, sweetling," he said softly. "I plan to take you hard afterward."
A tremor ran through her at the carnal promise in his voice. The air itself had grown smolderingly thick.
The flickering flame of a candle rose like a sunrise into her field of vision. And then the first spatter of wax. A second later, fire blossomed under her skin.
In exquisite slowness, he drizzled more wax over her stomach and upward to her breasts. Her body tensed with the effort of anticipating each new drop, each new fiery stream. Her pussy throbbed; her anus burned.
She was panting, groaning. More wax.
A pause. Her muscles tensed.
More wax. The thick pleasure of the heat.
Up and up, she rose, and somehow, somewhere, something snipped her balloon loose and she floated free. Drifting. The bite of hot wax hitting her skin faded into the sensation of warm rain.
"That's right, baby." The subterranean murmur felt part of her, as if the voice had flowered from the warmth impregnating her skin.
Lips touched hers. The light scent of forest drifted to her, reminding her of safety and strength. A face brushed hers, the beard a scrape against her cheek. "Miss Lily took you in."
Were they talking about something? She tried to think, failed, and her worries slid out from under her reason.
"You said you need to be more. Did Miss Lily tell you that?"
Sweet Miss Lily. "Watch your posture, Rainie." Frail Miss Lily sipped her tea, her spine ramrod straight, not touching the back of the chair. "Knees together." Rainie carefully crossed her legs, only at the ankles, to form a pleasing line. "Too much cleavage is for tramps; you are a lady." "Don your jewelry, and then remove a piece." "Act like a lady." "Don't swear. No one loves a trashy woman."
Rainie heard herself whispering the rules.
The slow slide of a deep voice murmured. "Hell. She thought she was helping-and instead she overdid it, didn't she?"
She got another kiss. So light that her thoughts floated again.
Sweet Miss Lily. She could almost smell the elderly woman's lavender, feel her soft wrinkled cheek. "She loved me." Rainie's lips curved up as she soaked in the memory.
Question. A question hovered in her mind, whispered by a husky voice.
"Answer me, sweetling."
Question. "Geoffrey's family didn't like me. Said I was coarse. And heavy." The hurt dug into her like sharp claws. She pulled in a breath, blinking.
Her world changed, came clear.
Holding the dark glasses, Jake leaned down to her. His eyes were sharper than lasers. The forehead strap kept her from looking away from his hard face. "Abandoned by your parents, attacked in foster care, criticized by your mentor, dumped by your wimpy boyfriend. No wonder your thinking got screwed up."
Her mouth worked, but nothing escaped. She'd … told him that? Fragments of her own words drifted through her memory, leaving her more naked than any lack of clothing would.
"You figure you have to make yourself over in order to be loved?"
He couldn't understand. "I do," she whispered. "I have to be smooth and put together and polished and-"
"Jesus. Sweetheart, you're not expected to change yourself." He cupped his hands on each side of her face. "You're supposed to find someone who likes you as you are." His jaw was so tense he had trouble speaking. "The rest is just … polish … like you said, but not who you really are, Rainie."
Not who she was?
"It's like clothes-sometimes you dress up for an occasion. But, sweetling, friends like you no matter what you wear. The man who loves you will adore you without any polish … or clothes."
She stared at him.
His lips curved. "As it happens, I love you naked."
A second later, he stepped back.
And wax splashed on her stomach, up over a breast and down again. Over and over. The heat flared along her skin and through her, growing, blossoming, until she floated away in a cloud of sensation.
Jake stopped to survey his work. Rainie's body was covered in a light sweat, and the wax glowed in the dungeon lights.
He felt as if he'd been dragged behind a truck for a few miles, yet exhilarated at the progress they'd made. Fuck, she'd had a hell of a childhood. Everyone had let her down. In a way, he'd been part of her trauma. That ugly revelation still grated through his system.
She'd seen him at Jennifer's party.
He'd have been near twenty-one, just starting to explore BDSM with his mentor, and thinking about enlisting. Hell, if only he'd met her that day, what might he have spared her? Regret bit at him.
But if he'd met her then...if she'd managed to avoid the heartbreak and trauma, would she be the same woman?
All her friends and even his clinic clients poured out their life stories … because she listened without judging. Because compassion was a river running through her so strongly that anyone who knew her could feel it.
He had to think destiny had set Rainie's feet on her path. And, being the amazing person she was, she'd climbed higher than anyone could imagine.
Dammit, though … Thinking about what she'd been through made him growl. Even her beloved mentor had messed with her head. With the best of intentions, Miss Lily had tried to redesign a brilliant spirit rather than teaching her the difference between internal and external appearances.
He sighed. One scene wouldn't address those insecurities of hers. They'd have to come back to this often. If fact, he should talk her into some counseling as well.
As he ran his hand through his hair, he decided to sign himself up for a bit of therapy too. Damned if he didn't have a few problems to work through himself.
Heather'd been quite clear. "If you'd said you needed me … if you'd given the slightest hint that losing me would upset your life, I'd never have been able to leave." He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.
Jake picked up Rainie's hand. "Sweetling, look at me."
Her eyes had glazed again. Good. She had no defenses to keep his request, his plea, from sliding in deep. She'd hear him true. "Rainie, I love you, just the way you are. Please don't leave me."
"Jake," she whispered. Her hazel eyes started to clear, to focus on his face. "Wh-what?"
"I need you, sweetheart. Stay here. With me." If he could, he'd relocate with her, but he and Saxon owned the clinic together.
"Need me?" Rainie's brow puckered. "No."
His jaw clamped down. Had he been wrong about what she felt?
"I'm not good for you. Hurt your future. When I'm more. Better-"
He had to blink away the tears. Jesus, he'd been an idiot. Not good for him? "You're perfect, sweetling. Everything I need in a woman. I don't want you to change."
And next time he asked her to do a list of her strengths and weaknesses, he'd write out his own … and share.
His words slid between the clouds and streaked down like lightning bolts into Rainie's soul. She blinked, unsure if she was really looking at him. But he stood beside her, his eyes brilliantly green. And then he kissed her.
Oh yes, it was Jake.
When he lifted his head, she blinked as the world and the evening spun into focus. The dungeon. Her bet. His vow.
"Rainie, I love you, just the way you are. Please don't leave me." He'd said he loved her.
Oh. My. God.
Her breasts were prickling as the wax cooled. Her skin was tingling and throbbing with heat, as if someone had turned the thermostat of her sensations up to the top.
"Do you trust me, baby?" he asked.