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Her fingers tangled with his and her eyes flicked up to his face. “Wow,” she breathed. Her lovely brown eyes had grown wider, her pupils darker. “I’d like to do more.”
“I’ll start with your back. Then we’ll move to your front.”
She had some trepidation about the front, so this would give her time to settle over it. Obediently, she turned over, stretching her arms above her again. He put his hand on the back of her neck, beneath the tight French braid he’d done himself. She was a tall woman, coltish and narrow-hipped, with a heart-shaped ass and pert, high breasts. Her fawn-colored flesh came from mixed-race parents. He’d met them, her mother a tall black woman from Gulfport, Mississippi, her father a bullish Venezuelan who played a brutal game of soccer with Brick in their backyard, when he’d been invited over for dinner.
Tish’s nipples were so sensitive he could bring her to climax by suckling them. When she’d wanted to explore the psychological side of submission, he’d done that a few times, ordering her to straddle him and stay absolutely still—as much as she could—while he did it.
He rarely hooked up with a woman who didn’t respond to his Dom side, even if she didn’t realize she had the bottom or sub vibes to mesh with it. He enjoyed introducing them to it, opening those doors and seeing what rooms they ended up wanting to visit.
Tish was a better than pleasurable fit. She’d admitted to those cravings early in their relationship. Their agreement to stay friends, not lovers, had helped with that. No deep emotional drama associated with exploring the urges she’d had long before she knew what they were.
He drew the wand in a zigzag fashion, traveling from between the dimples over her hips to her shoulder blades. The flame followed. His hand swept over it, the alternating movement of wand and palm creating blue and gold ripples across her back before he smothered them. Fleshing was one of the simpler forms of fireplay, but it was also one of the most intimate. He’d had bottoms tell him it felt like being petted. It could be soothing, but depending on how the heat built in the more sensitive areas, how he applied and manipulated it, it could also stimulate and arouse.
With Tish’s sensitive nipples, he expected applying fire around them was going to be a memorable experience for them both, if they got that far tonight.
His one-row-deep audience were elbow to elbow. But they only held the part of his attention needed to maintain the integrity of his space. If anyone crossed the taped line, the watchful Dungeon Monitor, who’d joined them when Richard let her know Brick was about to start, would get them to step back. But because Brick didn’t abdicate that responsibility, he stayed aware.
When he did demos, his bottom was co-instructor and visual aid, so he could talk and do this at the same time. But tonight he was giving a good friend her first fire experience. She deserved his full attention.
There were people comfortable holding the lives of others in their hands and those who weren’t. He cherished every bit of control a sub gave him. And while his mind tried once more to take him back to the sub he most wanted to give him that trust, this time he stayed fully in the here and now.
Just as he intended, she was starting to feel the heat and its sensations more intensely. Tish was digging her fingers into the table’s flame-resistant pad, her thighs and ass starting to flex. Little sounds were breaking from her lips, and sometimes she jerked when the heat gave her a more noticeable kiss. Brick had done scenes where the sensations overwhelmed the sub, enough she would have rolled off the table if they hadn’t been there to hold and protect her.
This probably wouldn’t reach that level of intensity, but Richard shifted closer, just in case. When she was making soft sounds of arousal, and those jerking motions were getting more noticeable, Brick decided that was enough for the back.
He set aside his tools, and clasped her arm and hand. “Turn over now. Arms up, legs spread, so your ankles are at the corners of the table pad.”
As she did it, he noted the hesitation, the slight hitch to her chest, the puckered nipples. Fuck, if she ever bonded with one Dom, she’d be treasure to him. From Richard’s expression, Brick suspected she was close to winning a lead contender for the honor. He’d shoulder himself to the front of the line.
“What is it you want to say, Tish?” Brick asked.
She looked surprised that he’d picked up on it. He’d been called a mind reader, but it wasn’t that. The world outside didn’t often slow down for moments like this, where everything about a woman drew him in like a book he couldn’t, didn’t want to put down. One he didn’t want to rush, absorbing every possible meaning of the words.
If a man took the time and prioritized it, practiced it in a place like this, he could do it when it counted in the day-to-day world.
When he had the submissive he wanted to keep, to bind to him, he’d fight for the right to read and hold her soul forever. The things he learned here would let him do that, giving her all she needed, both under his control and when he stood at her side. Or at her back, if that was where she needed him to be.
Shit. Focus.
“Can I be blindfolded?” Tish said. “I want to feel it, but if I see it, I think I’ll be too…worried.”
In their earlier discussions, she’d admitted to having a little fear of fire. Not a phobia, just what was to be expected from any sane person.
“All right. No blindfold, though. Close your eyes.”
When she complied, he kissed her temple. “Just like where I put your arms, counselor. Your blindfold is my command. Your eyes don’t open until I say so. Understand?”
“Yes. Why do I keep shaking? I thought I was past that.”
“Does it feel bad?” She shook her head. “There are a lot of different rooms to submission, and every one of them you enter can turn you into a newborn again, shivering with that first touch of a different, bigger world. Ready to explore it?”
At her nod, Brick gestured to Richard. The man came closer to the table. Brick picked up the damp wand again. This time, she shuddered immediately, a mix of physical and mental reaction, as he passed it over her upper thighs, her navel, the arch of her rib cage. Circled her nipples, painted the curves of her breasts.
He’d told her to remove her pubic hair if she wanted to experience fire close to her sex, and she had. Some subs liked the unique sensation of letting a fire top burn the hair off, but he preferred it this way for his own fireplay. For tonight, it also kept things simpler.
He slid his hand over her smooth cunt, a firm pressure against her clit that had her arching. Now he picked up the other wand and lit it. The flame caught the track he’d laid out and flew eagerly over the new terrain. His hand followed, dousing, sealing in the heat. The blue meeting point between the flame and the alcohol was burned into his gaze, mixing with the hue of her flesh, the way she moved.
She sucked in another breath as he sent flame over her upper thighs again. As he smothered it, his thumb grazed the crease at her groin. He returned to her breasts. A low moan broke from her throat as the fire licked over them, his hands cupping them to seal in the heat. He did her belly again, but this time, he leaned in and blew gently on the flame, sending a wave of heat over her swollen clit.
