"You have magic hands," she said, when I finally pulled them away.

"I'm glad you enjoyed the warm up."

She paused. "Warm up for what?" Her voice was breathy, with the barest current of trepidation flowing through it. So fucking sexy.

Rather than answer, I leaned across to the side table and scooped up one of the candles. "Do you trust me?" I asked.

There was no hesitation this time. "Yes." After everything that had happened in the last few weeks, it was amazing to hear such certainty. I had no idea where she found the strength to forgive me, let alone trust me again. That trust was the most important thing in the world to me now, and I'd die before I breached it again.

"Good. I want you to extend your arms and press your palms against the headboard. I'm not going to bind you this time. It will be up to you to restrain yourself. If your hands move before I say so, there will be consequences. Understand?"

She nodded.

"Okay, this will be hot."

And before she had a chance to speak, I tilted the candle slightly, sending a small glob of wax tumbling onto the small of her back. Her body arched and she let out a short cry.

"Too hot?" I asked.

She assessed for a few seconds. "No, just unexpected." She let out a little laugh. "Is that wax?"

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"Yes."

"I was wracking my brains trying to work out what you might do, but I didn't even consider the candles."

I grinned. "That was the plan."

"Well, it feels good," she said, as I poured again. Gradually, I worked my way across her body, varying the height and size of the drops to create different temperatures. There was something so artful about the act of covering her like that, the redness of the wax in stark contrast to the whiteness of her flesh. And the way she reacted, the little sighs and tremors that passed through her as the liquid hardened against her skin, had me aroused nearly to the point of pain. At the angle she was lying, I could see the lips of her pussy, nestled tantalisingly between those perfect cheeks, and in my head I was already playing through what it would be like when I was finally inside her. That divine warmth and maddening softness, the way her body would tremble and her voice would break as I took her, forcing her towards climax.

I began using my free hand to shape the wax, dragging my fingers through it, enjoying the heat and the sensation of her skin. She seemed to like that a lot. Soon, the whole bottom half of her back was a vibrant haphazard crosshatching of crimson.

"You must be making quite a mess back there," she said.

"You look beautiful," I replied. "But we're just getting started."

Setting the candle down and climbing free of her, I stepped over to the dresser and scooped up the champagne holder. Now that she was clued in to the game, she understood almost immediately.

"Oh god," she said, as I straddled her once more. Leaning down, I brushed a kiss softly against the back of her neck while reaching into the bucket.

"Now this, this will be cold."

She was trembling before I even touched her, but that first moment was like electricity, her body convulsing as I pressed the ice cube against her. Watching intensely for any sign of real discomfort, I began to trace the cube down her spine. She continued to wriggle, her breath hitching, but the noises slipping from her mouth were those of pleasure. Being a dom is always a bit like walking a tight rope; you're constantly pushing your partner's limits, trying new things, and it can be incredibly easy to accidentally slip across the murky line between enjoyment and genuine distress. Temperature play, in particular, is a sensitive activity, but Sophia appeared to be loving it.

The ice melted quickly, her body still radiating residual heat, so I took another piece and repeated the path, this time trailing my tongue behind on her chilled skin.

She let out a long sigh.

"You like that?"

She nodded. "The contrast is amazing. Keep going."

And so I did, slowly traversing the still clean portions of her body, savouring the taste of her, the texture of her skin, the feminine scent that filled my nostrils until she dominated my senses.

"Let's try both together," I said.

Her sounds grew louder as I began to alternate hot and cold, stroking with ice then chasing with wax. When the cube was nearly melted down I let it sit in place and tipped the candle directly over it, sending a stream of icy water swirled with crimson heat flowing down her side.

Now that she was in the zone, it was time for the main event. Stashing the candle again I took another cube, this time focusing on her ass. Slowly I circled each cheek, making no effort to ease the chill. The skin down there is more sensitive, and she shivered and twitched at my touch. Soon her entire ass was slick and goose pimpled.

"Should I go lower?" I asked.

"Yes," she breathed.

She inhaled sharply as I slipped my hand between her cheeks, rolling the tiny nub of ice softly around the puckered rosette inside.

"Jesus Christ."

"I still want to fuck you here you know," I said, slipping one chilled finger just half an inch inside her, drawing a short gasp from her lips. "Maybe tonight?" I left the question hanging in the air. I already knew it wouldn't be now. I'd have her there eventually — I intended to have all of her, everything she could give — but not tonight. Of course, that didn't mean I couldn't plant the seed, make her wonder.

I slipped the ice lower still. Parting her legs, I stroked it gently across her inner thighs, gradually working my way towards her pussy. She was incredibly turned on by this point. The scent of her excitement filled the air, and her lips were glistening despite the fact that I'd yet to use the ice there. I desperately wanted to slip my finger into that softness, to bury my tongue in it and lick her until she couldn't even speak, but I restrained myself. I found the act of forcing self-control extremely exciting. Waiting now meant more pleasure for both of us later. That said, I'd never found waiting so difficult as when I had her in front of me.

Every time my hand drifted closer to her sex, her hips bucked a little more wildly.

"Do you want me to touch you?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied, no longer making any effort to disguise the desire in her voice.

"You'll have to do better than that."

"Please, Sebastian, please touch my clit."

I poised my hand above the entrance to her sex, my fingers splayed around it, the ice pressed just above her entrance. I love the rush of power I feel at moments like that. For me, kink has never been about the pain or the taboo, it's about power and intimacy. This beautiful woman had given herself over to me. She'd put her pleasure entirely in my hands. Nothing is more intimate than that.




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