Page 37 of Playing with Fire

I nodded, unable to look away from how the fire reflected in his eyes, turning them molten. "I trust you."

"I know you do." His free hand pressed possessively against my belly, sliding up to circle one nipple, pinching it hard enough to make me gasp. "That's why you're going to lie perfectly still and let me decorate you. Make you into the most beautiful fucking canvas. Can you do that for me?"

The first drop of wax hit just below my collarbone where I'd asked, and I flinched, unprepared for how much it burned. A strangled sound escaped me, caught between pain and something darker, something hungry. The wax cooled quickly, hardening into a small white circle that marked me as Xavier's canvas.

"You okay?" Xavier's voice was steady, grounding.

"Yes," I breathed, surprised by how much I meant it. "Please, more."

"Talk to me," Xavier demanded, studying my reactions as another drop of wax cooled on my skin. "Tell me how it feels. Tell me exactly what I'm doing to you."

Words felt impossible, thoughts fragmenting under the sensations flooding my system. But Xavier was waiting, patient yet expectant, his eyes devouring every twitch and gasp.

"It's like... burning and relief at the same time," I managed, each word an effort. "Like electricity but... god, it goes deeper. Straight to my cock. Makes me want to beg."

Xavier's eyes darkened with something that wasn't just arousal—it was understanding. "You feel it everywhere, don't you? Not just where the wax hits. It's like your whole nervous system lights up."

I nodded, surprised he could read me so accurately, could translate the incoherent mess of sensation into something that made sense.

"I thought so." His voice held savage satisfaction. "You're the type who feels with your whole body, your whole mind. Who experiences pain as more than just physical." His fingers traced where the wax had hardened. "That's why you respond so beautifully to pain. It's not just physical for you. It's fucking spiritual. You were made for this."

Hearing him articulate something I hadn't even understood about myself made me feel seen in ways I never had before. He wasn't just learning about my body. He was learning the very essence of how I experienced the world.

His gaze traveled down to my chest, to the dark hair covering my pecs. "This will hurt more," he warned, fingers threading through the curls. "The wax will stick to the hair when it cools. Pull when I remove it."

I felt my face flush, but there was no shame in it now, not with Xavier. "I know," I admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "I, um... I sometimes pull my own chest hair. When I touch myself. It feels good, the sting of it."

Xavier went still for a moment, his eyes darkening to something dangerous and hungry. "Fuck, Leo," he breathed, like I'd given him something precious. "You're full of surprises."

The next drop landed directly on my nipple, the heat intensified by the contact with the sensitive flesh. A choked cry escaped my throat as my back arched off the bed, cock jerking violently against my stomach. The wax cooled quickly, hardening around my nipple and the surrounding hair, creating a delicious tension I couldn't escape. Each new drop felt like a brand, like Xavier marking his territory in white circles across my flesh, claiming parts of me no one else had ever touched.

As another drop of wax hit my skin, I realized something was missing. The voice in my head telling me this was wrong and sinful was quiet. Instead, there was just sensation. Just Xavier. Just us, creating something beautiful and violent together.

"You look different," Xavier observed, studying my face as he held the candle higher. "More... here."

"I am," I said, surprised by the realization. "I'm not—" I paused, searching for words. "I'm not fighting myself anymore. Not hearing my father's voice or my abuela's prayers or what some fucking priest would say."

Xavier's eyes darkened with satisfied possession. "Good. You don't need their fucking permission to enjoy yourself." His hand spread possessively over the cooling wax. "This is ours. No one else gets a say in it. Just you and me and what I decide to do to this perfect body."

The simplicity of his statement settled something inside me that had been restless for years. My desires weren't wrong. They were just there, just another part of me that belonged entirely to him.

Xavier studied his work with dark satisfaction, fingers hovering just above my skin where patterns of hardened wax decorated my chest and stomach.

"So fucking perfect." Xavier traced the edge of a cooling wax circle, making me shiver. "Look how your body begs for more, even when you try to stay still. Look how that pretty cock leaks just from me hurting you."

He was right. I couldn't control the way my stomach muscles jumped at each new drop, couldn't stop my hips from shifting restlessly, seeking friction that wasn't there. The pain bloomed sharp and bright before melting into warmth that spread through my whole body like liquid fire. Each drop was a separate universe of sensation, unmistakably Xavier's mark on my skin.

"Hurts," I whispered, but it wasn't a complaint. More like a revelation.

"Want me to stop?"

"No!" The word burst out too quickly, too desperately. "Please don't stop. I... I fucking love it. Love how it burns. How it feels like you're marking me.”

His eyes flickered toward my cock, which lay hard and leaking against my stomach. "Where else do you want me to mark you, Leo?"

I swallowed hard, gathering courage from the way he'd responded to my earlier confession. "My... my cock," I whispered, the words feeling filthy and perfect on my tongue. "But only if you—if you lick it first. Like you did with my arm."

Xavier hesitated a moment, then moved lower, his lips hovering just above my cock. "You asked for this," he reminded me, his breath hot against the sensitive skin. "No backing out now."

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