Page 52 of Your Echo
“You want me to safely handle a burning hot candle while I’m fucking your pussy?” His laugh almost sounds nervous. “That’s asking a lot.”
“I trust you,” I repeat, and then I spread my legs even wider.
The bed is high enough that I’m level with his cock. I use my hands to guide him inside me, and we both moan when we’re joined again. He’s busy holding the candle up, so I do most of the thrusting, lifting myself onto my forearms so I have the leverage I need. I work myself back up to the frenzy he had me in before, until I’m pulsing around him and I can feel the tightening sensation gathering deep within me.
“Do it,” I order. “Do it on my chest.Now.”
The rivulet of wax is the only thing I see as Ace holds the candle over me and tips it to the side. Then there’s nothing but pain— cruel, immediate, and all consuming. I clench my teeth and dig my nails into my palms, the candle’s fire still dancing on the backs of my eyelids as I close my eyes and wait for the drops of wax that just fell between my breasts to cool.
When I’m finally able to concentrate on something other than the pain, I find Ace pumping in and out of me with something close to fury as he gasps for breath.
“Shit.Shit. You got so fucking tight. You liked that, didn’t you? Your little cunt clamped right down on my cock.”
He’s barely holding himself together. The candle shakes in his hand and another drop of wax lands on me. My body jerks as his cock plunges in me again.
“More,” I gasp. “I want more.”
I’m so close now, teetering right on the edge. Ace tips the candle over again, and this time wax splashes on my stomach. I cry out and collapse onto my back, panting and squealing as the wax continues to burn. I don’t know who I am anymore. There’s just pain and desire and desperate, aching need, and all of itburns, so hot I wish I could crawl outside of my own body to escape it. It’s too much. It’s far too much.
“God. Oh,god.”
Somewhere above me, I hear Ace calling out as he thrusts get slower but ruthlessly deeper. The small part of me that still has a grasp on reality realizes he’s as close as I am. He grunts, and then I hear the sound of the candle hitting the floor.
He leans over me, pinning my wrists above my head. The new angle is a hundred times more intense. Sweat drips from his chest onto my wax-covered skin. He shifts his hips so he’s pressing down on my clit, and I’m gone.
I’m a supernova. I’m a dying star. I’m a blinding flash of earth and dust and fire, and then I’m just silence.
