Page 70 of Temptation at Randy's

“Don’t give me sass,” Claude warned.

The hand that wasn’t holding the candle rested on my inner thigh. It should’ve put me on edge, but it felt like a balm instead, like coming home.

“Sorry.”

I wasn’t sorry. I knew it, and Claude knew it. They didn’t tease me about it this time, though.

Turned out, I couldn’t always be on my best behavior.

“Talk me through it, okay? Tell me how it feels.”

“Okay.”

I hated and loved when Claude gave that command. I hadn’t been sure the first time they brought it up. In my head, talking about it meant not being able to fall into subspace, where I could let go of everything that kept me in knots and anchored to the ground. Talking, though? Forcing the words out actually elevated every single sensation to a level I hadn’t thought possible.

The first drop of wax fell right above my hip bone. I gasped, my hips lifting up the bed. It took me a second or two before I could start processing the way it felt. It hadn’t hurt, exactly. I wouldn’t even call it a sting, but it burned, the sensation so localized and short lived I didn’t know if I should be disappointed or relieved.

“I’m not hearing any words.”

If I’d been able to, I would’ve glared. As it turned out, I didn’t have it in my repertoire. Instead, I bit my lip before I started moaning again. Claude said I was loud, and I agreed with them.

“It’s…” I breathed, my eyes darting around the room as if the words were going to be written on the wall. “Warm. More than warm. It’s intense and comforting all at once.”

Claude hummed. That seemed to be enough for them. This time, when they turned the candle to a 45-degree angle again, they let more than a drop drip, creating a pattern next to the first one. Still over my hipbone, but getting closer to the center. It felt warmer the closer it got to there, more intense. This time, I didn’t have to worry about it.

I glanced down. “Is that supposed to be a heart?”

“Shut up.” Claude huffed. “I’m trying here.”

I giggled. They brought it out of me. “I mean, if you wanna switch places…”

“Keep talking, and I won’t be so nice.”

They were stupidly nice every single time, but I smacked my lips together and looked away. “Yes, Claude.”

“Cute,” they snorted.

I managed to stay still while they decorated my other hipbone—no attempts at drawing hearts this time. It was when they let a drop drip over the underside of my clit that I hissed.

“Words, gorgeous,” they teased and reminded all at once.

“It…” I writhed against the shackles for a moment, the heat making me sink back into the bed and get away from it at the same time. Tears sprang to my eyes for some reason. I didn’t know why. “It feels so intense, so… hot. Literally.”

Claude chuckled.

“I bet.” They shifted on the bed, too, but I couldn’t look to see what they were doing. I needed a second before losing it for reasons that went far beyond my comprehension. “Do you want more?”

My breath hitched.

I didn’t know.

“Yes.”

One development I wasn’t a big fan of was this thing I did lately where I didn’t have a filter—around Claude, at least. I supposed I’d never had much of one around them, but this was different. This was self-sabotage of the highest order.

Claude leaned down. I didn’t have to focus my gaze on them to know. I’d recognize their weight hovering over me any time.

It sent a shiver up my spine.

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