Chapter 23 Wax for Dinner
twenty-three
Wax for Dinner
Rhazan steps around me. I try turning to look, but the cage around my chest and my own arm is in the way.
I wriggle and strain, but I can’t see him or the table at my back.
Despite having eaten more than my fair share of the dinner that Nai Nai made, the scents wafting over my shoulder have me salivating.
“Rhaz, really, I’m sorry. It smells so good. Please?”
He chuckles but says nothing.
When he steps back around to my front, he’s holding one of the flickering candles.
The wax is a deep, blood red. A bead of it slips from the top and rolls down the shaft over his fingers.
My heart thuds faster as I consider those beads dropping over my skin, turning my body into a pretty canvas of fire and desire.
He drops to one knee, bringing himself eye level with me. “You will tell me if it’s too much.”
It won’t be.
His face hardens. “Comply.”
I wet my lips. “Yes, RhazDaddy.”
He reaches for my leg and my pulse skyrockets. I’m vibrating out of my skin and he hasn’t even touched me. The anticipation has warmth curling in my lower belly.
His talons recede to blunt nails as his skin meets mine.
“No,” I murmur, locking eyes with him. “Leave them.”
“You’re very bossy this evening,” he says, eyebrow ticking.
“Isn’t that every evening?”
He smirks. “You’re not in control right now, Jiahui.”
I shiver as his fingers slip up my leg. I flex into the touch, trying to get more of him against me, but he’s featherlight. Our gazes clash. His is amused and I’m sure mine looks just how I feel: frustrated.
The first drip of hot wax hits my leg and I gasp, looking down at the spot. A crimson splotch paints my knee and peppers the surrounding skin in tiny pearls of red. The heat is searing at first, but begins to cool to meet the temperature of my skin. I squirm as I watch it harden.
Another drip hits higher up my thigh, and I can’t stop the moan that escapes me. Its heat is on the edge of too much, just like what I feel with him. I watch his face when the next drop falls. Barely restrained yearning glimmers in his eyes and in the hard set of his jaw.
His fingers draw the path the wax follows. Each new drop farther up my thigh has desire pulsing in my core, making my clit ache for attention. I wiggle on the chair, getting my center pressed against the single support holding up my chest cage.
Rhazan tsks and stands up.
The chair begins to shift again. The chains release from the ceiling and fall into Rhazan’s grasp. My legs are released, but the whole world is moving beneath me. I’m hot, needy, confused. I just want to feel his pleasure, his punishment.
The chair morphs and takes on more mass until it’s a platform at Rhazan’s hip height.
The chain in his hand slips into the obsidian and locks my arms in place.
I’m on my knees and forearms, my back angled and ass presented.
My core muscles tighten with that knowledge. He’s poised me perfectly for fucking.
The skirt of my dress slides down my back and gathers at my waist, exposing my new panties. Rhazan circles me, and every second of his silent gaze heightens my anticipation. Finally, he stops behind me.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice husky. “Ready to take whatever I give you.”
I glance over my shoulder. His appreciative gaze has blood pumping painfully to my center.
“You’ll be a trembling mess when I’m through.”
The walls of my pussy clench around nothing and ache from it. I need him. I need anything.
“Please,” I whimper.
His hand returns to my leg and I startle from the gentle contact. He glides up the back of my thigh to my ass, and I clench, prepared for a strike.
But it never comes.
“Aren’t you going to punish me?” I ask.
He huffs. “I don’t think the spankings are teaching you the lesson I want them to. In fact, I get the distinct feeling they’re doing the opposite.”
His hand leaves me and he walks away. A whine is all I can make, a desperate plea for him to return.
“So needy,” he says with a chuckle.
“Come back here and finish what you started.”
“There’s my Firecracker,” he says, walking to me.
He’s folding a cloth napkin in his hand, over and over until it’s a plush strip.
“Lift,” he says, tapping my left leg.
“Why?”
His eyes flick to my face and there’s a sternness there I crave. “Because I told you to.”
I purse my lips and lift my leg. He places the napkin strip against my knee, then guides my leg back down.
I hadn’t even realized the obsidian was sharp until the napkin is there protecting me from it.
He comes around to the other side while folding a second napkin.
I don’t make him ask me to lift the other leg, and he secures my knee with the padding.
“But doesn’t the pain fuel you?” I ask.
Curiosity ruffles his brow as he considers my question. He turns to the table, and when he comes back, he’s resolved. The hard set of his jaw somehow makes him more handsome.
“I don’t prefer it.”
He strips off his black shirt and my brain stutters.
“You…don’t?”
He doesn’t like my pain? Or…knee pain?
He folds his shirt and lifts my forearms, placing the padding under me. He nods, satisfied with how he’s prepared me. He disappears again, his silence heightening my anticipation.
“I like this pain,” he says.
A hot drip splats on my lower back and I gasp from the intensity of it.
“Yes,” Rhazan groans. “I like that very much.”
“Me too,” I pant.
Another drip hits my back and rolls up the valley of my spine, making a river of heat spread over me. Rhazan’s hand traces around the drops until his nail hooks in the band of my panties.
“If these weren’t new, and expensive, I would rip them off you,” he says.
The slow drag of the material over my cheeks is punctuated by a hot splash of wax. I hum and close my eyes, getting lost in the sensations.
“How do you know they’re new?”
There’s a gentle tug, and then he holds something in front of me. I open my eyes and—
Oh, god…the price tag. How did I miss it?
“You’re cute,” he says, throwing the tag to the floor.
I watch it flutter and feel a little knot of embarrassment grow in my stomach. There must be something wrong with me because that knot is warm and tightens the muscles in my lower belly. Blood heats my face and I bite my lip.
“I like this flavor, too,” he says, then leans down, his hand braced beside my arm. “And so do you.”
Fuck. Am I really turned on by being humiliated?
Another slap of wax ceases that line of thought quickly.
The drips hit my ass and roll down the backs of my thighs.
Rhazan’s fingers follow the lines, then course up the inside of my leg.
I moan and strain back against him, trying to lower my center onto his hand.
His fingers dodge my attempt and slide up my ass once more.
Drip by drip, caress by sensual caress, frustration builds in my body. I’m wound so tight I could come undone at the slightest breeze, but he keeps his touch soft, and far from my pussy. I tug on my binds. If I could just get one hand free, I could solve this problem myself.
A rumbling laugh spills out of him as another splatter of hot wax hits me. My back and cheeks must be close to covered by now.
“Please,” I murmur.
“Please what, Firecracker?”
I wiggle and the wax on my lower back crackles, like my shell is breaking.
“Please, touch me.”
“I am touching you,” he says, dragging the tip of his nail down my ass in a featherlight touch that makes me shiver and clench.
His finger follows the line of my cheek to my opening, but he drifts down to my leg instead of giving me what I’ve asked for.
“I need more. Please, RhazDaddy, more.”
He grips my thigh hard, and the prick of his nails makes me hiss.
“I don’t think you’re sorry enough yet,” he murmurs.
His hand slides up my back, bunching my dress at my breasts. He slows, tentative and asking. I look up at him and nod. Fire burns in his eyes and he holds my gaze as his fingers push the material over my breasts. I have to dip my head so he can shove it over onto my arms, and then I’m bared to him.
The matching bra to the panties was three times as much, and there was no way I was paying it, so…no bra. The air whooshes from Rhaz’s lungs and he takes a step back. The outline of his cock is hard and thick in his trousers.
He whispers something that sounds like a curse, or a prayer—maybe both—as his eyes run the length of my body again and again. I’m so horny I could probably think myself to orgasm at this point. I need him to touch me. I want him inside me.
I bite my lip and arch my ass higher, the heat of his stare making my core ache. The muscles in his jaw flex. He blows out the tiny nub of candlestick, then walks around behind me.
I look between my legs and watch as he carves a space out of the obsidian platform behind me.
He grabs my thighs and growls as he shoves his face into my center.
I yelp at the sudden aggressive contact, but the second he starts licking, the switch in my body flips.
I’m already so close to the edge it’s embarrassing, and that embarrassment makes me even hotter.
“God, Rhaz, I’m going to come,” I cry.
He sucks my swollen clit between his teeth and runs his tongue over it from side to side.
It’s my undoing. I scream as the orgasm punches through my gut and into my lungs.
I pull on my hands and flex my legs, trying to curl in on myself and stop the onslaught, but it’s useless.
He keeps sucking and stroking. The pleasure is overwhelming. I’m too sensitive.
The wax crackles on my ass as Rhazan takes hold of each cheek.
I can’t squirm away from him like this. His tongue thrusts into my opening and his chin rocks against my clit.
The intrusion makes me gasp. He groans into me, making everything vibrate.
The shift in friction has me screaming again, another orgasm rocking me to the core.
He doesn’t stop. I’m so sensitive now his attention almost hurts. His hand comes up to my inner thigh and he pulls away. I gasp for air, grateful for the break. But it’s short lived.
He pushes a finger into me and I clench around it. Fuck, it’s so much bigger than my own, and it has me right back at the edge.
“Please,” I whimper. “Please, please.”
“What is it, Jiahui?” he asks, his voice loaded with satisfaction.
My legs are quaking, and I know I’m seconds from collapsing, or imploding.
“I want,” I say, my voice shallow from panting.
His lips ghost over my back. “What do you want?”
My arms tremble as I look over my shoulder at him. “I want you to come.”
His eyes blaze with orange and the scars littering his chest brighten.
“I want to make you come,” I reiterate, my body in a full-on spasm as his finger drives into me.
He licks his bottom lip into his mouth and I catch the glint of his fangs, reminding me that a demon has me on all fours, finger-fucking me. It doesn’t matter what he is. He’s mine.
The platform begins to shift again, and I yelp as he pulls out of me. My muscles fail and Rhaz catches me, looping my chained arms around his neck. Our lips meet and he groans. He tastes like me and I think I like that, knowing that I’m on him, in him.
I try to wrap my legs around his waist but they’re so weak I can’t. The platform rises to meet my ass and Rhazan shoves my dress under me. I pull my arms over his head—which is a feat with those horns—and dive for the button of his pants.
Our passion turns frenzied. The wax on my back crackles and flakes away as we move, mostly me flustering with his damned belt since my wrists are still bound. He brings a hand down to help me, and together, we free him of his pants.
I look down between us and take in the even tighter outline of him under his briefs.
Fiery lines of power zip from his navel down to his groin, and the glow of it makes the material slightly transparent.
I salivate at the silhouette of him at the same time I question my sanity.
Can I take him? I haven’t had anything bigger than a few fingers in me.
He hooks his thumb in the band and thoughts for my sanity float away.
I will make it work.