Chapter 3 #3
She started to ask what he was doing, but something about his demeanor told her to remain silent. Again, she was struck by his dominance, his complete control over his body and tonight’s adventure. He was clearly ready to roll if his hard-on was anything to go by.
Jennifer was very familiar with the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am style of sex. It had been Marcus’ forte, but Caliph didn’t appear to be in a hurry to do the deed. Instead, he was drawing out the experience, ramping up her desires with anticipation. It was a deadly concept. And freaking hot.
After years of lackluster, predictable sex, the appeal of not knowing what was going to happen was cranking up her arousal, making it hard for her not to find her clit with her own fingers to grant herself some measure of relief.
Caliph approached the bed. “I said I wouldn’t tie you up and I won’t. But I need you to lie perfectly still, Jen. Keep your arms and legs where I put them without moving. Can you do that?”
She had no idea, but she damn well intended to try. She nodded.
“Your safe word is daisy.”
It was perfect. He’d picked the one word that would remind her she was in control. That she was strong.
“Daisy,” she repeated, blinking once more against the tears forming.
God. She wasn’t sad, wasn’t scared, yet she felt the uncontrollable urge to crawl into a ball and cry her heart out.
What was wrong with her? She was exactly where she wanted to be, doing something she’d never dreamed she’d have the courage to try.
Hello basket case.
Caliph reached into the box and pulled out a candle. She ran through his list of kinks. Wax play. She’d read about it. Knew the hot wax would hurt, but that pain could morph into something even hotter inside. She wanted to experience it and she had no doubt Caliph could make it good for her.
He didn’t pause in his preparations as he removed several different colored candles from the box, then a lighter. He set them up on his nightstand, lighting each one. Once he was ready, he tossed the empty box in a corner and turned back to her.
He leaned over the bed, one of his knees landing on the mattress by her hip.
Lifting her arms, he placed her hands beside her head on the pillow.
The position was one of pure surrender. Her heart raced as fear, anticipation, and need all morphed together until it took every ounce of strength in her body not to pull Caliph on top of her and force him inside her.
“I’m not sure I can do this.”
Caliph frowned, concern in his dark brown eyes. “If it’s too much, too painful—”
“No, it’s not that. I’m so fucking horny. I don’t think I can wait.”
His face cleared, replaced with a grin so genuine and mischievous, she knew she’d just sealed her own fate. Caliph was going to drag this out, there was no denying it. He’d play with her until she begged and even then, she suspected he wouldn’t give in.
“You’re not going to take it easy on me, are you?” she asked.
He shook his head as he moved lower on the mattress. “No.” He grasped her knees and pulled her legs apart. “I’m not.”
She glanced down and saw her ankles were lined up perfectly with the bottom posts on his bed. Part of her was sorry she’d taken bondage off the table. If it turned out tonight was all she got, she’d regret missing out on that experience.
Maybe a compromise.
“Could you tie just my legs?” With her hands free, she could still escape the bonds, though she knew she wouldn’t try.
Caliph studied her face, not bothering to hide his pleasure at her request. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “Please.”
He reached toward the foot of the bed, pulling up straps that had been tucked beneath the mattress.
“Seriously?” she asked when she realized the ties were already secured to the poles.
“Never claimed to be a choirboy.”
She let her gaze travel over his chest and erection. “Believe me, that thought never entered my mind.”
He tickled the bottom of her feet as he strapped her ankles to the bed. She was grateful for the reason to giggle, otherwise sheer panic would have taken over.
Once she was tied in place, he crawled over her body, remaining above her on all fours. “Okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Say your word and the straps come off.”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to say it. I trust you.”
He gave her a crooked grin, then bent to kiss her. This time, the kid gloves came off. His lips pressed against hers roughly, his tongue seeking entrance to her mouth. She opened and returned the kiss.
Twice she started to lift her hands from the pillow, wanting to wrap them around his neck, to hold him tight to her. Both times, Caliph issued a warning growl. The deep timbre of his voice made her wet and hot and achy. The kiss was intense. Primal. Passionate.
He broke off the connection to kneel on the bed, reaching for a bottle of mineral oil.
He squirted some on his hands, then began to rub it into her skin.
The sexy massage did little to relax her.
Instead, it had the opposite effect, firing off a whole new set of needs.
Every part of her body was awake, alert, aware.
Aroused. She felt as if she was coming unhinged as her pussy clenched continually, seeking penetration.
After several minutes—that seemed like years—he lifted his hands. “Ready to get started?”
She snorted. “Dear God. What have we been doing the past half hour?”
“Preliminaries. Prepping the area. Getting ready to add the design, then the color.”
Tattoo-speak. Before her turn in his chair on Tuesday, she wouldn’t have understood the allusion. “So now what? You draw?”
He nodded. “Yep. Time for some art.”
He rose from the bed, strode across the room to turn off the overhead light, then returned and lifted one of the lit candles. “How much do you know about wax play?”
“Next to nothing.”
He looked at her face and she wondered what he saw there. “You want a brief lesson? Wanna know about the wax, temperatures, stuff like that?”
“Nope. Don’t give a shit. For the first time in my life, I think I’d prefer experience over education.”
“Yeah. That sealed it. Your one-night stand just became a weekend. You up for it?”
She laughed quietly. “Guess it all depends on how you stick the landing.”
“Is that right?” Caliph cut her laugh short when he tilted the candle, allowing a large splash of wax to hit her nipple.
“Fuck.” She lifted her hands, intent on wiping the painful substance away, but Caliph narrowed his eyes in warning.
Slowly, she forced them back to the pillow. “I think it would be easier if my hands were bound too.”
Caliph moved the candle over to her other breast. Jennifer sucked in a deep breath and held it, preparing herself. His second splash of hot liquid hit its mark as well, coating her nipple in white. She clenched her fists, but kept her hands in place.
“I would have thought you’d realized I’m not going for easy, Jen. This weekend is all about pushing your limits, driving you wild.”
It was poised on the tip of her tongue to call him a bastard when he placed another large splash of the red-hot liquid on her stomach.
And as usual, he read the thought. “Careful, gorgeous. It’s never a good idea to taunt a man who’s bigger than you.”
He put the white candle back on his nightstand and picked up a blue one. After that, all conversation died as Jennifer gave herself up to the moment.
Each splash of wax burned, scorching a path through her skin straight to her pussy. She clenched her inner muscles, though they remained empty, aching. Caliph ignored her pleas, her cries, her demand that he “put down those goddamn candles and fuck me.”
Jennifer lost all sense of time, of place. The dark room, illuminated only by candles, allowed her to disappear into the shadows. After spending the past year standing in a glaring light that forced her to see and acknowledge every flaw and shortcoming, the black night was a blessed relief.
Here, she was sheltered, safe.
She started to anticipate and look forward to each splash, every sting. Her eyelids drifted closed and her begging turned to just one word. His name.
“Caliph. Caliph. Caliph.”
Jennifer wasn’t sure how long she’d lain on his bed after Caliph stopped painting her body with wax. When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to discover he’d turned on his bedside lamp.
It took several moments for her gaze to focus, for her vision to clear enough to find him. He was sitting on the side of the bed, looking at her body.
When he realized she was looking at him, he smiled. “You’re beautiful.”
Jennifer lifted her head to glance down. She gasped as she took in his artwork. Her body was a kaleidoscope of texture, shape, and form.
He’d set her colors free.