Not missing a beat, I instantly flung myself up from my relaxed position to throw one leg over him and straddle his thighs and retort, “That wasn’t an answer to my question.” Emphasizing my demand for the correct response, I squeezed my thighs together to crush his between them. Glaring at him, I forced him to endure his dissatisfaction for longer, knowing his arousal would only deepen.
“I’m sorry, Lady Isis. No, I’ve never had wax dripped on me...on my cock.”
His words alongside the hangdog expression on his face softened my body and mind, allowing the release of the slightest smile.
I snatched up the candle and lighter with such speed that I left a faint scratch line on his skin, impatience needling me to a level that I could barely believe. I had never felt the emotion so strongly, but fought to prevent myself succumbing to it. My carefully chosen outfit began to feel as if it was growing smaller, tightening until they became restrictive and stifling.
His eyes blazed through the dim light of the room, a sign of his own restrained powerful feelings.
Staring hard into his eyes, I shuffled backwards to prepare for his torture, moving the candle to my left hand as my thumb hovered over the lighter’s wheel. Taking advantage, Tom lifted his hips and raised his cock as if presenting himself to me, a desperate demonstration of his desire without the need for words. I was pleased—I didn’t want him to taint the atmosphere.
I was thrilled by the thought that we both wanted the same thing—my complete control. I wanted to take charge of his pleasure as if it belonged to me.
The strike of the lighter flint sounded sharp in the room’s quiet atmosphere, the glow of the flame seeming to grow at a creeping pace in order to light the room. It highlighted the sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead.
As I held the candle horizontally hovering in the air, it took a moment for me to realize that it was moving because my hand was shaking. Pent up desire raged inside me as it sought an outlet. After a minor struggle, I finally regained sufficient control to be able to make the flame and the candle’s wick meet.
I kept my eyes on him, watching his face as we both waited tensely for the wax to burn down and liquefy sufficiently to wet his skin.
In my peripheral vision, the candle was a blur, but I knew when my shaking hand shook a drop of wax free. Tom bucked like a startled horse the instant the hot wax slapped his skin, his rigid physique jumping in a concerted effort to unseat his rider. Ignoring his physical reaction, I watched the area that caused his disquiet, the oily globule instantly solidifying on falling through a patch of wispy dark hairs to the join of his cock and his body. A second bead of wax quickly followed the first, landing just above its twin though my hand hadn’t moved. .
It was impossible to determine where the third droplet of wax fell as he sprung up while it was still cutting through the air. Tom reached up and dislodged the candle from my grip with the back of his hand, the swift sharp movement of being knocked from my fingers extinguishing the flame.
I had no idea when he had loosened his binds, or how he had managed to do so without me realizing. I had no time to reach a conclusion before Tom pounced on me like a wild animal with no inclination to control its impulses. He easily shifted my body by dragging his legs out from beneath me with a single sweeping motion.
He maneuvered his frame into a kneeling position, matching the same pose that I scrambled to maintain.
My heart pounded erratically as he sought my mouth. Not immediately finding it, he drew wet kisses across my cheek in his search for my mouth.
His rapid rate of breathing matched the pounding of my heart.
Finally arriving at my lips, which remained silently eager, he kissed me hungrily. His hot, slick tongue flicked between my lips, snaking into my mouth as if it held the secret to everlasting life. Had I possessed such a power, he would have found it. My brain told me to resist, the thought manifesting like a persistent tapping. However, it wasn’t strong enough to resist Tom’s lure, my entire physical being failing to take heed of my mind and succumbing to temptation.
My form began to throb like a flashing beacon had been switched on somewhere deep inside me, preventing me from stopping him. It would have been so easy to disallow him from going further, but I didn’t.
I waited patiently as he tentatively reached around my waist, blindly feeling for the fastener of my skirt. I almost laughed when he quickly gave up to turn his attention to the hooks of my corset.
My body was determined to defy my mind, desperate for him and barely allowing me to hold back my reaction. Suddenly, an epiphany erupted like an explosion, making it feel as if my entire sexual career had been leading to that point.
Tom became bolder with every passing moment, no doubt due to my lack of reaction. I knew we had become something different—our relationship to each other had changed—and my head swam when trying to think of the point at which the switch occurred. I had no doubt he recognized the same thing.Finally, Tom’s bravery extended to make him manipulate my body to enable him to remove each piece of my clothing in turn. He snatched my breath away by putting me on my back, thrilling me by creating a canopy above me with his sculpted torso.
Our eyes briefly met before he lowered his body onto mine, speaking volumes with one glance. I thought about whether he knew that my allowance of his insolence was merely temporary.
Sinew shifted beneath the skin of his abdomen as he twisted to position himself. The hypnotic undulating motion drew my gaze and my fingers.
His audible breaths were deep enough to engage his core, ensuring the continuation of the movement in a wave as I stroked his skin. Only when he dropped lower, his lips grazing my lobe as his shoulders flexed from carrying the weight of his frame, did I realize that the sound of panting didn’t come from him alone.
The deep inhales and exhales that dried my throat provided a perfect feeling of exhilaration, a precursor for what was to come. The touch of his hot abdomen pressed to mine intensified the crashing sensation, forcing my lungs to work harder though his shaft was merely pressed to my thigh. The pressure of his body alone was enough to excite me. My body automatically became ready for him as if the will of my heart and mind counted for nothing.
My body was in charge and powerful enough to maintain it.
All energy seeped from my body as he parted my thighs by pushing them aside with a maneuver of his own legs. There was no resistance and no pretence at me being in control. Tom had command of me, demanding my undivided attention in the same way that I had his.
The sensation of his hot breath bathing my neck was the one that would stay with me, powerful enough to make me wet even when experienced in the most innocent of circumstances.
Moving my hands just in time to prevent them becoming trapped, I curled my fingers over his shoulders. Holding him with a strength I didn’t realize I possessed, I clung to him with all my might. Pressing the pads of my fingers to his taut flesh, his muscles shifted and twitched as I made it possible to pull him closer.
Lips brushing my jaw made my breath come harder, my body increasingly sensitized so that the hairs on his legs caused a ticklish frisson of excitement. From the pounding at my chest, it was impossible to tell whether his heart beat stronger than mine as both seemed to work together to intensify the rhythm.
My body screamed with such desire—rattling every fiber within me and setting my nerve-endings ablaze—that the touch of his cock to my entrance was like blessed relief.
The eager, slick tip of his shaft pressing my entrance offered the first instance of satisfaction, albeit only a minor amount. It joined the feeling of his breath on my neck, the memory of which I would treasure.
My restless hands moved down and around his sides, splaying my fingers against his back like I could hold him closer.
His soft lips rested against mine, opened a touch like he was about to speak, made me hold my breath in readiness to listen to them. The caress of his tongue let me know that no words would come before his deep ki
ss.
Finally, he ended the tortuous wait and entered me, causing a flood of endogenous pleasure that made every moment of frustrating anguish worthwhile. A rumbling growl emerged from his deep breaths as he plunged deeper, his forehead resting against my temple so that the sound reverberated through my body.
Enveloped in a frame of pure light, I floated on the joyous sensations that Tom offered, demonstrating his knowledge of my body though we’d only known each other a short time.
In another world, I vaguely felt Tom’s hand at my head, his fingers tightly entwined in my hair as he held himself up with his other arm. Though powerless to control the pleasure I experienced, I lapped up every sensation as he gradually rocked faster. Thrusting his hips harder, he pounded me into submission, succumbing to the ecstasy only he could offer.
His mouth against my ear, the soft graze of his moving lips introduced his imminent words. In a haze where I felt no pain, my throbbing body swollen and sated, I barely heard his, “Oh, Mariella,” released with a deep exhale.
****
“Are you thirsty?”
His question floated out from the silent darkness that arose after several minutes of lying together in orgasmic bliss.
For a moment, I forgot myself and readied myself to relinquish my position to get him a drink, though I was loathe to move. Nestled against his side, his arm curled beneath my head, I had no desire to be anywhere else except pressed to his hot, sweaty skin.
“I’ll bring you up a glass of water, Lady Isis,” he stated, seemingly prompted by the slight shift of my body.
I turned over when the bed bounced with his movement, lying on my side to watch him depart the bedroom. His firm naked buttocks bobbed up and down with a perfect spring, swaying hypnotically as he walked.
Hearing my moniker made me recall how he’d addressed me only a short time before. The subtle power shift would have been unnoticeable had I not thought about it, which made me wonder if Tom recognized it had occurred at all. Sinking back into the pillow, I lay back to await Tom’s return, a smile of delight playing on my lips.
About the Author
Shermaine is a Londoner who often uses the city as a backdrop for the contemporary stories she writes.
Though she had literary ambitions since she was a child, she only did anything about it a few years ago.
She writes shorts, novellas and novels within a range of different genres, from interracial to BDSM, and is published with Phaze, Xcite and Total-e-bound.
www.shermainewilliams.co.uk
www.shermainewilliams.wordpress.com.
Taming the Alter Ego Page 6