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“Good girl,” I say. “You catch on quickly, don’t you?”
She nods with a grin before sucking her lower lip into her mouth, and goose bumps break out along her skin.
“This wax is made for massage, so it won’t harden as it cools. Makes for easier cleanup, and it’s good for first-time use,” I tell her, and she nods. “Ready for more?”
“Yes.”
I pour the oil back into the warmer and scoop out a fresh jar full, this time holding it closer to her skin. I could probably still hold it farther away, but I have a feeling she can handle this.
I tip fresh wax onto her bare stomach, and the moment it hits, she jolts. Her mouth falls open, and then her lips purse as she blows a sharp breath out.
“Yellow. Can we stay here for now?” she asks, and I oblige.
I want her pleasured. I want to pull every single ounce of it from her body and leave her writhing for more—desperate with fucking ravenous need.
The way I feel right now, for her.
My cock swells, and I do my best to keep my focus on her, using my hands to massage the oil into her stomach and up to her breasts. I pause, and she gives me the okay to touch her tits with a nod. I palm them, resisting the carnal desire heating inside me to grab her, to hurt her…to make her scream and beg. To leave bruises on her skin and then kiss each one to soothe them.
Instead, I run my hands over her delicate skin, the only barrier the hot oil as it glides across every inch of her chest. This is about her. Not my desires. Making her feel good.
She arches her back slightly, pushing her breasts toward me and letting out another moan; this time it’s longer, less stifled. I work her breasts, grabbing hold of them and massaging the oil into them. I roll my thumbs over her hard nipples, circling them with the pads of my thumbs as she cries out.
She glances over to the area Naomi and Chris were in when we first came in, but they’re gone. I can’t tell if there’s relief in her features or if she’s disappointed that we’re not being watched.
This woman surprises me at every turn.
“Tell me what you’re feeling, Giana,” I coax her and continue massaging the oil into her skin. Doing my best to not pull myself out of my fucking pants and have my way with her.
This is about her. I know that. But I shouldn’t want that.
Fucking Christ.
This internal war is greater than any external, any physical war I’ve ever taken part in.
“It feels so good. The warmth of the wax, and your touch. Your hands on me,” she admits with a shaky breath. She inhales, and her chest rises and caves in, rises and caves in, the wax pooling each time she does it. “I want more.”
I look into her eyes and decide to give her what she wants.
What kind of man would I be to deny her?
Once I’ve filled the jar, I get onto the table and straddle her, and her eyes go wide.
“This time I’m going to splash some onto your chest. The feeling you’ll get is slightly different from letting it carefully drip. I won’t hold it much lower than before. But I don’t want it to hit your face, so I’m going to hold it closer to me and then splash it up your body.”
She agrees, and I do as I said and bring the jar close to my own chest before releasing it toward her while I continue straddling her.
“Fuck!” she cries out, and I immediately go to wipe it away, thinking it was too hot, too much, but she swats my hands away and yells, “Yellow! I’m fine. Fucking yellow.”
She swats my hand away again, and her heart rate intensifies. I see it just from the quickened rise and fall of her chest. I snap my eyes back to those tits of hers. How badly I want to take them into my mouth and make us both come.
The hot liquid sloshes around on her body, streaming downward in small rivulets, some going into her belly button and some rolling farther down to the edge of her waistband.
“It hurt.” She clenches her eyes shut before glancing down to the oil as I start massaging it into her skin. “But at the same time, it felt unreal. How can something painful make me feel so euphoric and alive?”
Her question sends a shiver down my spine.
Pain manifests as pleasure in so many ways.
