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Was this a dream? How did I get here?
Behind me and outside of my field of view, Markos cleared his throat.
“Kassandra,” he began, “finally, you are mine.”
My body flared with pleasure at his words.
His footsteps brushed against the grit on the floor. I wondered if it was stone. Maybe I was back in Greece, deep underneath his villa. I hoped I was and that this wasn’t some sort of weird sacrificial ritual.
“Where am I?” I asked nervously, my gaze searching around the domed room for clues. The walls appeared to be made of rock, a gray stone lined with dark veins. It almost looked alive. I shook my head. I must be losing it.
“Everywhere. Nowhere. What does it really matter?” he answered.
“I want to know,” I pressed.
He growled in warning and I shut my mouth.
“It’s not time yet, my little warrior. I haven’t even begun what needs to be done yet.”
What the hell did that mean? I furrowed my brow in confusion, trying to figure it out. I knew better than to press him now though. I had just gotten him back and I didn’t want him to leave me again. He’d tell me when he decided I needed to know. I had faith in that.
“Master, please,” I begged, “what’s going to happen?”
He moved to my side and in his hand was one of those red candles. It was wider than the others and looked as if it had been burning for some time. Just beneath the wick was a pool of liquefied wax. A veritable red ocean that drew me in. It was so bizarre that I found myself questioning if it was real or not.
Slowly, he held it out over my breasts and I stiffened anxiously. What was he up to? I stared at the flickering flame, a small light in the darkness and gradually, it calmed me. An overwhelming power washed over me, and at once, my fears about where I was, how I got here, and what was going to happen to me fled away, dissipating into a cloud of ash. Instead, I solely focused on Markos and myself.
We were together again. That’s all that mattered. That gave me relief, at least for now.
His hand tilted more. The red ocean rippled slightly, undulating back and forth almost threateningly until, at last, melted wax tipped over the edge. I held my breath, watching as it fell toward my body, almost in slow motion. One drop, then two and I gasped as it landed directly between my breasts. A warm, pleasurable sensation drifted over me and I sighed quietly. He did it again and my pussy clenched, hopelessly bound and covered by my fabric prison.
The wax felt entirely too good. Sensual, heated pleasure passed over me and I was helpless against it. My nipples hardened into tight little peaks, wanting more of whatever this little game Markos was playing with my body.
He moved from side to side, painting little drops above and below my nipples. My breath grew hotter with tight little pants and then, he brought his hand closer to my body. He tilted the candle agai
n.
Each drop felt hotter this time, but not unbearably so. As they met my skin, there was an initial hot sting of pain, but then it quickly faded as the wax dripped down the curves of my breasts. I angled my head to stare down at his handiwork.
The wax looked like blood.
I drew in a hot breath and then, he moved his hand closer once more.
“Yes. Please,” I begged.
More wax dripped down. Drop after drop trickling onto my skin.
Hotter. More painful, but still as arousing as ever.
My heart pulsed and my core throbbed, desperate intense pleasure building up deep in my belly. Each drop reminded me of his power over me and my body reacted to it, heating with every last one. Desire rattled me, straight down to the depths of my soul.
All around us, flames began to dance. A massive circle of fire enclosed around me and as each drop of wax pelted against my naked skin, it burned hotter and the blaze grew bigger and higher. I drew in a shaky breath.
This was crazy, right?
It couldn’t be real.
Maybe I was back in the asylum again. Maybe this was another vision, or maybe this was my own personal hell.
