Page 178 of Sage Haven
Lips parted, pink and swollen from my earlier kisses.
A study in pleasure, caught between anticipation and ruin.
And I wasn’t finished with her.
Not evenclose.
Her gaze moved to the nightstand, lingering on the candle flickering atop it. The firelight danced over her skin, golden and hypnotic, its flame reflected in the dark pools of her eyes.
“I see... So, that’s what you want.” My voice was low, edged with meaning.
She turned her eyes back to mine, straining against her restraints, her body taut with anticipation.
“Yes.” She whispered.
I couldn’t help but oblige. So, I did. I grabbed the candle, my fingers curling around the base.
She held my gaze, unwavering.
“You saved me,” she murmured. “Let me burn for you.”
I cupped her cheek with my free hand, thumb stroking the soft curve of her jaw before tilting the candle forward—just enough.
The first drop of wax landed on her sternum. She inhaled sharply—one hard gasp—and then exhaled on a shuddering moan. Her body jerked, hips lifting, but I pressed my hand to her stomach, keeping her pinned.
I tilted the candle again.
A slow, molten trail ran down her chest, over her ribs, dripping in a pattern that made her shake.
And I watched.
Watched her burn.
Watched her fall apart.
Each drop of wax was a kiss.
Each flicker of pain was a gift.
And she took it with grace and hunger.
By the time I set the candle down, her skin was a canvas of cooling trails, delicate and gleaming.
Radiant.
My hands followed the paths I’d laid, slow and deliberate, melting the cooled wax with the heat of my touch until her skin glistened.
She trembled beneath me, pulling helplessly against her restraints.
And God, I loved it.
Loved her.
Every unraveled inch.
My fingers drifted lower, finding her soft, slick, and trembling on the cusp of surrender.
I stroked her slowly, languidly, savoring the way her breath fractured into broken, desperate gasps.
