Page 83 of Between Dusk and Dawn

I arched my back as he kneeled on one side of my body.

"Ever since I was a child, my need for control always led me to this strange obsession with fire, Muse." He stared at the flame as it swallowed the wooden stick. His face was still sticky from my cum, and I swore I saw flames dancing in his irises.

"Do you like fire?"

"I-I…No? Fuck, I don’t know." I swore his cock twitched.

The flames only reminded me of my family house. The way my room was torched. It was engulfed in flames, and I ran so fast away from them.

My heart started to race as he leaned down. "Do you want to rewrite your story, Muse?"

Did he know? He must have been aware of the big fire that made headlines everywhere. A quick Google search would reveal my past.

"Y-yes," I cried in anticipation from feeling safe with Walsh. He wouldn’t physically harm me.

"Good girl," he purred, blowing out the match. His head leaned down licking the top of my pussy.

"I love this." His tongue flicked around my tidy landing strip.

My breathing grew heavy as I imagined what would happen next. The anticipation was clouded by a sense of pleasure as his tongue danced along the top of my mound.

"You were made for me." He groaned as he nibbled at my hair.

"Are you scared?" he asked again, pulling away from me. I shook my head. "I need to hear you say it."

Not anymore. I was free. This was what freedom felt like. This was what true protection was.

"No," I groaned confidently.

A new excitement danced in his eyes. "Good."

He stood and walked back over to the fireplace and plucked another arm-length match. Walsh locked eyes with me as he dipped it into the fireplace. Flames were what ruined my childhood and set ablaze to my need to wear a mask and fit in somewhere.

Not now. No, tonight I would control it with Walsh’s help.

He brought the stick down toward my navel so it was inches away from my skin. I tried so desperately to steady my breath as the warmth of the flame heated me up. "You are safe," Walsh murmured as one hand stayed with the flame over my belly button and the other wiped away a tear I didn’t know fell. I wasn’t scared anymore, and I wanted him to know that. Because with Walsh, everything was so different, so new and so safe.

He kneeled over me and brought the flame down toward my mound.

"Open your legs, let your knees go slack," he murmured. The flame was nearing the end of the matchstick.

I obliged as he shifted so he was hovering above me, his cock primed to enter me, the head pulsating.

"Please." I was desperate to come, to feel, to touch anything. Fuck. The need was driving me to insanity.

Then he dropped the match on top of my cunt as the flame was about to extinguish.

A searing pain shot through me. "What the—" I cried, but he pressed a finger to my mouth to silence me. The tip of his cock slowly circled my opening as his hooded eyes carried an air of desperate craving.

I propped up on my elbows to see the flame grazing right on top of my pussy.

Holy. Shit.

He was burning me.

No, wait?—

He was fucking burning the hairs of my landing strip. The agony blinded me as the fire got closer to my skin. I arched my back, crying out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. And just when I thought I wouldn’t be able to handle the torment any longer, he blew out the flame and thrusted deeply inside of me.

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