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She'd become part of some sensuous, pagan ritual. The Master was a Druid priest, preparing Vanessa for sexual initiation where she'd belong to a circle of Druids, her sexual energy used over and over for their mystic purposes. Vanessa's body moved in sinuous response to the vibrator. Her hips lifted, pressed down, her legs shifting restlessly, toes curling. Her toenails were painted a silver-pink, like her fingernails. A tattoo of a vine twined around her left ankle, punctuated by tiny pink flowers.
Madison swallowed as Vanessa's grip got brutal. The stimulator must be bringing her close to peak. Her lips parted on a moan. "Master," she breathed.
The man appeared absorbed in her erotic response, yet detached from the plea in a way that was indescribably arousing. He was feeding his own pleasure off of her denied need.
"He's watching you," Madison said in a thick voice. "He can't take his eyes off you." She would sell her soul to be looked at like that, to feel whatever it was Vanessa was feeling, under his control.
She'd said it because she couldn't seem to stop herself, and the panic returned. She thought she might have committed an embarrassing faux pas. Though the Master didn't lift his gaze from Vanessa, his lips curved, eyes sparking, telling Madison she hadn't done anything wrong. Vanessa's response proved it. Her hands convulsed on Madison and her body gave an all-over shudder. She repeated the word, with need and reverence both.
"Master."
He picked up one of the burning candles, and Madison was once again reminded of a Druid ritual, the way his back straightened and his focus increased. Standing over Vanessa, he balanced the candle in his hand so it wouldn't tip and spill the accumulation of wax burning in the pit below the flame. Not until he was ready.
Vanessa cried out as the drops landed on her upper abdomen, twitching as he made his way slowly down her center, leaving a trail of pale ivory wax that hit her skin, rolled in different directions and quickly solidified. Madison's gaze clung to every inch of progress he made toward that juncture between her legs. Her own pussy was throbbing, anticipating, and her thighs pressed together beneath Vanessa's knuckles.
"Please . . . tell me . . . when . . ." Vanessa was gasping.
The Master's eyes cut toward Madison. Anything she might have said froze in her throat. That look of pure command was as arousing as anything she'd yet witnessed. Ironically, what added to its potency was how it contrasted to the earlier smile, his gentle touch on her cheek. To know that beneath all that, this side of him could surge to the forefront, his true core, taking control of everything around him, made a woman quiver and want to be on her knees to him.
She found her voice, though it was a rasp of sound among the drums. "He says no."
The Master gave a slight nod, his eyes glittering on her a diamond moment before he turned back to what he was doing. Vanessa sighed, helpless acceptance. Several drops later she let out a piercing, needy cry as the wax splashed on her clit, her smooth mound. He'd saved the bulk of what was melted on the candle for that area. As he drizzled it in a spiraling motion, she writhed, called for him again, arched, and her nails bit into Madison's hand.
For her part, Madison was motionless, mesmerized, her throat dry. Inside she was quivering as hard as Vanessa, but on the outside she was still as a mouse in a corner. The Master set the candle back on the table, watched Vanessa twist, her hips rolling, tongue darting out to lick her lips. Madison thought he saw everything happening to his sub, head to toe, even if his eyes weren't on every part of her anatomy. It was as though he was inside her mind, absorbing her every reaction like a form of magical energy in truth.
"Be still," he said. Even the music couldn't compete with the steel command in his low voice. Vanessa obeyed with tremendous effort and little whimpers. She clutched Madison's wrists.
He poured some of the liquid wax from the burner into a bowl, stirred it with a brush. Bending over Vanessa, he ran the brush along the outside of her right breast, then her left one. This type of wax didn't seem to have that first moment of searing heat the other did, because Vanessa didn't make the involuntary jerk. Instead, under the brush strokes she seemed to melt like the wax. A murmur caught in her throat as he passed over her nipples.
"Would you like to see what it's like?"
Madison looked up, met the Master's gaze. Did he mean? She couldn't . . .
"Turn your palm up so I can put it on your forearm. Vanessa, let go of her right wrist."
Vanessa immediately complied. The Master gave Madison a courteous, encouraging nod. The man had as many faces as the moon. His pleasant tone now wasn't like the demanding, pure-sex demeanor he displayed when interacting directly with Vanessa. It was as if he stepped out of one room and into another to speak to Madison now. Whereas she'd felt like she was in that room with them for a few, blissful minutes. She wanted back there, but that was a limited invitation, wasn't it? She held out her arm.
Oh . . . wow. It was like a heated, damp tongue, the brush running a few inches up her arm before he pulled it away. "Paraffin," he told her. "It does wonderful things to the mind."
Giving her a wink, he returned his attention to Vanessa. He used several different types and colors of wax, alternating between the candle drippings and the paraffin, decorating Vanessa's thighs, her navel, her breasts. Though he'd left it in place, he'd dialed down the vibrator during all that. Now he turned it off, put it aside and replaced its stimulation with his own fingers.
"A nice, wet pussy. All wet for your Master, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir," Vanessa gasped. "Please . . ."
"Please, what?"
"I want to come."
"Whose wants are important, Vanessa?" His eyes and voice had gone back to flint sharpness. Madison was on the edge of that cliff with Vanessa. Please let her come. She couldn't take her eyes away from his long fingers, manipulating the fragile flesh between Vanessa's legs, his knuckles worrying the clit, stroking the labia. From a flex of his arm and Vanessa's guttural cry, she knew a couple of those digits had disappeared inside her. Madison's pussy contracted in sympathetic response and need.
"Yours, Master," Vanessa said.
"So what do you want?"
"I want . . ." Vanessa swallowed noisily. "I want you to want me to come, Master."
His smile went feral. "Lucky for you, that's exactly what I want. Right now. Come for me."
