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He trails alcohol around the underside of one breast, and eventually over the whole thing. The heat from the flame as it touches my skin warms my face. It doesn’t hurt. Not even a little. If I had to describe it, I would liken it to stepping into a bath that is the perfect temperature. But the fear that he might not douse the fire in time or that something might go wrong is still there. And fear does things for my libido that I can’t explain.
Seeing one breast literally on fire sends a bit of that adrenaline straight to my clit, and I cry out as the first orgasm hits. He’s wiping the fire away with the wet rag, but it barely registers as I ride the wave of the ultimate pleasure coursing through me.
Warmth explodes across my skin again, and I realize he’s already laid the next path for the fire to follow, and it’s dancing along my upper thigh.
The vibrator never stops assaulting my clit, and I can barely think straight as another orgasm hits me. I jerk against the cuffs above my head. I don’t enjoy being bound. It’s not normal for Owen to restrain me like this. But I understand why he did. If I move the wrong way, I might set something other than the alcohol on fire.
He repeats the process over and over again. The entire time, he’s encouraging me, caressing me, and telling me to come for him.
I’m riding my fourth orgasm when he sets his fire wands aside and bends to kiss me harshly as he pulls the vibrator from my pussy and switches it off.
“We’ve put on quite a show for people tonight, love. But I think I’m done sharing you. What do you say we head to our room?”
He had me reserve one of the club’s thirteen private suites for us tonight, and I’m grateful.
“Yes, please.”
He tosses me a robe and tells me to put it on while he cleans up. As I’m tying the belt, he waves over one of the club submissives assigned to the Diamond room tonight and tells her to disinfect our space. Then he scoops me into his arms and carries me into the hallway that houses the suites. He stops at the King and types in his code, then carries me inside, where he drops me on the bed.
Without being asked, I shove off the robe and toss it aside.
He unbuttons his shirt and comes to stand in front of me.
“Touch me,” he commands.
I sit up on my knees and run my hands along his bare chest as I push his open shirt off his shoulders. Touching Owen is one of my favorite things to do. And I love how much he enjoys having my hands on him. I never have to ask permission to touch him. It’s a common rule I’ve seen in D/s relationships, and I’m glad we don’t have it in our dynamic. Touching him is too addictive.
After a minute, he sits on the bed beside me, then scoots me back to lean against one of the high pillows. My body is humming with pleasure, and I’m already anticipating what he’ll do to me next. My pussy is wet from the vibrator, and my skin is flushed pink because of the heat from the fire wands.
He scoots away from me enough to spread my legs, and then he buries his face in my pussy. I’m so sensitive, that the first swipe of his tongue across my clit makes me twitch. He’ll have me coming in minutes. His dark hands grip my thighs, and I do my best to memorize the way he looks with his head between my legs and his hands gripping me. It’s a beautiful sight that I never want to forget.
My heart aches at the thought of this experience fading to nothing more than a memory while I live out my days as the wife of a mafia boss. But I’m determined to make the most of the time we have left, so I put the sad thoughts out of my mind and focus on the tantalizing man in front of me.
After a few slow swipes with his tongue, he devours me. His enthusiasm nearly makes me combust. I cry out and grip the bedspread as the orgasm tears through me. Is that five tonight? Suddenly my brain isn’t working, and I’ve lost count. It doesn’t matter. Owen isn’t nearly finished with me.
One more orgasm later, he sits up and plunges two fingers inside my soaking pussy as he leans over me. Our mouths tangle and I taste myself on his lips. He continues to finger fuck me as he explores my mouth with his tongue and I meet his thrusts with my hips, unable to quench the fire that burns in me for him.
“Owen, I love you,” I gasp when he breaks the kiss.
He rests his forehead against mine, and his fingers go still inside me. “I love you too, Bellamy. More than you’ll ever know.”
I want him inside me.
Now.
So, I reach for the clasp on his pants and undo it. He sits up and pulls the zipper down then strips off his pants and boxers. I take a moment while he’s standing to drink in his gorgeous body. There’s a scar on his right shoulder that he got when we were kids. And another where he got shot as a teenager. I’m pretty sure that experience is what made him want to escape the life his parents laid out for him, but we don’t talk about it much.
And of course, I can’t help but enjoy the vision that is his cock. It’s thick and hard and ready for me, and I crave every inch. I love that this man is mine.
He climbs back onto the bed and kisses me tenderly before he positions himself at my opening. We stopped using condoms years ago, and I love the way he feels as he invades the most sensitive parts of me. He fills me in one smooth motion and stays still for a moment before he moves.
As he fucks me, he keeps his eyes locked on mine, and I can’t look away. It’s as if he’s trying to memorize my facial expressions while he’s buried deep in me.
I put my hands on his arms and smile up at him as he picks up the pace.
“I love the way you fuck me,” I say.
“That’s good since it’s my favorite activity,” he teases breathlessly.
