Page 142 of Always

I hand the candle to her then. She grasps it tightly.

I pull out a match. “I could use a lighter, but I prefer matches.”

It’s the wood. Part of nature, rather than a manmade lighter. I strike it and then light the candle.

“Watch the flame,” I say. “Let it hypnotize you as you hold it.”

She brings the candle in front of her and inhales the aroma of the lit match, the sweetness of the burning wax. The small flame grows, flickering in a discordant rhythm. She stares at its orangewarmth, at the red wax beginning to melt.

And I watch as she relaxes, her body still rosy from the flogging.

After a few minutes, I take the candle from her and tip it, so a drop of wax hits the inside of my forearm. It’s warm. Hot even. But not scalding. It’s perfect.

She opens her mouth, but I regard her sternly.

“I’m testing the wax, Skye. I’ll never put something on your body that I wouldn’t put on my own. It’s my duty to protect you. Always.”

Always.

Her safe word.

Except it’s so much more than a safe word to me.

I was so distraught when I couldn’t protect her from the Reardons. So upset that I was ready to leave her rather than have her in harm’s way.

Does she now understand my need to protect her? To never let her down? To keep her safe? Always?

I test the wax once more, watching it harden on my forearm. I nod. “It’s ready.”

Her body beckons like an artist’s canvas.

What shall I paint first?

I hold the candle over her, knowing the anticipation is driving her wild.

I tilt the candle and let the wax drip on the top of one breast. She gasps at the burn but then softens. The wax meanders for a few seconds before beginning to harden.

I tip the candle once more, and another drop drizzles onto her areola.

Her nipple hardens as the areola shrinks around it. The red hue of the wax makes her nipple look painted.

Painted red.

And it’s fucking hot, in more ways than one.

My cock is ready to explode as her hips rise.

Yes, I told her to stay still, but I don’t admonish her.

Instead, I groan.

“You’re so beautiful,” I say as I drip more wax over her breasts and nipples. “God, I didn’t know how hot this would be.”

She sighs.

More drips, the flaming hotness melting against her and then cooling quickly into abstract shapes, not one the same.

I trail the candle lower.

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