Page 78 of The Wicked

“No, princess, I thought I’d send you on an all-expenses paid trip to the Maldives while I jack off in the shower.” He ran his tongue along the seam of my lips, and they parted with a soft gasp. “Of course with me. I don’t think I can stand another week without you.”

“I’ll come.”

“Eager, I like that.” He ran one of those magic fingers over my clit. “But not yet.”

“Please.”

“Good things come to those who wait.”

“Sometimes, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

He trailed his tongue down my stomach annoyingly slowly and finally, finally gave me his mouth. It didn’t take much, just a few flicks, and I was gone. I screamed his name, at the same time sending silent thanks to whoever built the pool so far from the main house.

“Okay, fine, I love you.”

“I love you too, Cinderella. Turn over.”

He rotated the bar, and I didn’t have a choice. A metallicclick, and the cuffs around my wrists disappeared, clanking against the bed frame. More drops of oil. He started on my shoulders, my back, my ass, and I could swear he’d worked as a masseur at some point in his life because this was divine. And then…

“Shit! What was that?”

“Candle wax. It won’t burn.”

“What the hell are you doing with it?”

“Embracing my creativity. You’re my canvas, Cinderella.”

The wax dripped across my back and off my sides. It ran over my ass and trickled down my thighs before it cooled and solidified. If I moved, it cracked, leading to a whole new set of sensations. The heat, the cool air, the touch of Charming’s fingers as he ran them through the mess.

Click.

I went rigid at the sound of a camera. “Are you taking pictures?”

“You’re a masterpiece.”

“You’d better not be planning to put them in a gallery.”

“They’re for my viewing pleasure only. And yours. You can delete them later, but I want you to see what you look like.”

A zipper undid, and Charming’s belt buckle clunked as he shucked his pants. A moment later, his cock nudged at my folds, open and bared to him. Ready. Waiting. He entered with one smooth thrust, and how had I ever thought I didn’t have a G-spot? It had just taken the right man to find it. He raked my back with his nails as he fucked me, breaking off the wax and leaving heavenly tendrils of pain in his wake. Early on in our relationship, I’d wondered if there was something wrong with me that I got off on this, but then I’d come to the conclusion that it didn’t matter what we did in the privacy of our own bedroom as long as we were both enjoying it. What was normal, anyway?

I arched my back, sending him deeper, and he leaned forward, fisting my hair and twisting my neck as he captured my mouth with his. Tongues, teeth… That little shard of pain as he nipped my lip… I fucking loved this man, and I loved fucking him too. I even liked my new dirty mouth.

Another orgasm surged through me, and Charming was on the edge too, I could tell. He came with a barely restrained cry, and it seemed he’d found religion. We panted there for a moment, me on my knees and him wrapped around me, and then sweet Charming returned and he nibbled on my ear.

“I love you.” Another nip, and then the blindfold was gone. “I need to get rid of the condom.”

“I should start taking birth control.”

“Yeah, you should.”

He unbuckled my ankles and padded across the room, leaving me to survey the wreckage of my bed. I’d changed the sheets this morning, but now they were a mess of oil and candle wax, the evidence of our filthy, wonderful voyage of discovery.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I’m wondering if my laundry soap is up to the job. I should do something with”—I picked at a piece of wax—“with this.”

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