“We’ll last forever. You’ll be mine forever. No massages. No other men. Nothing. This body is mine.” I picked her up, wrapped her legs around my waist, pulled her close so I could keep her. Keep her forever. That’s all I wanted. I pinned her against the door, our bodies molded to one another by force.
My hands dug into her hips as I sucked hard on that sensitive part of her neck, breathed in her scent, and tried my very best to hold on to the person I couldn’t lose again, even if she couldn’t figure out how to stay.
Because I felt it.
I felt her slipping.
Our unhappily ever after crept in, and I didn’t know how to fix it. She was right. I was a man of destruction, but she knew me as one of healing, and I didn’t know how to heal us when we weren’t even broken yet.
Her heart actively worked to shut me out even as her body let me in. She searched for the what-ifs and the darkness and the pain in her mind to wedge between us, and I couldn’t control it except when I had her like this.
And this only lasted so long.
I spun her and laid her back on the massage table. Her dark waves cascaded over her shoulder and over the table’s edge as she turned her head to look at me. I let myself take her in for just a moment as she lay there breathing heavily. Took in the way that skin stained pink for me when I touched her, the way she bent her knees and her hands went between her legs as she bit her lip, like she couldn’t stop herself from touching the sensitive parts of her body while she waited for me to do it. Her muscles moved fluidly to a secret rhythm that mesmerized me. The spectrum of color in those hazel eyes hypnotized me, and I found myself grabbing the candle from behind me and moving to stand right above her, holding it out over her stomach.
I opened my mouth to remind her.
She beat me to it. “I know the safe word, Dante.”
“If I lose you, Lilah, you know I’m going to make sure you remember me,” I said before I poured the hot wax from a foot above her stomach, knowing it wouldn’t burn too much from that height. Still, I wanted her to remember, wanted her to experiment with her pain and let me redden her unmarked skin so I could replace the pain with pleasure.
A tear escaped and trickled down her face as she nodded, and I tried my best not to fall to my knees and beg her forgiveness.
Instead, the gasp that came from her as I slid my finger up her pussy at the same moment the wax hit her stomach made my cock so hard I knew I’d need to be inside her soon. “That sound is mine. Will always be mine, Lilah.”
She nodded as we watched the wax harden, and her hips rolled against my fingers.
I tilted the candle again, dripping a path of wax up to her breasts, over them, around her nipples. “The next sound is going to be you screaming.”
“I don’t scream in public places, Dante,” she whispered.
“You’re about to, Little Lamb. Spread your legs like a good girl.” She whimpered like she couldn’t do it, like she was above it, but her body submitted to me immediately. “Such a pretty little lamb. And look at that pretty pink pussy. The color I see in all my dreams. Fuck, you deserve everything I’m about to give you. Always have, always will. You’re my good girl, my very best girl … Mine.”
And then the wax was teetering over the edge of the candle and falling fast onto her clit.
The sound from her was pain and pleasure mixed together, loud enough for the whole hotel to hear as I curled my fingers into her G-spot. Her pussy pulsed around me, and her orgasm dripped from my fingers to my wrist and down my forearm.
“This is only the start of me taking those sounds from you,” I told her as her body relaxed.
The image of her on that table should have been in a damn museum, the Museum of Perfection, and access would only belong to me. I would buy the whole building, too, so I could stare at that art for eternity.
I unbuckled my slacks and nudged my cock’s barbell against the wax on her clit.
“Oh, Jesus, it’s too much, Dante.”
“Never am I too much for you,” I told her, but I was on the brink; it was all too much for me too.
We were giving into each other’s lust for one another instead of fighting for the love.
Thinking I might not always have her made me want to brand the shit out of her, made me want to hear my name on her lips over and over. I flipped her so her stomach was against the table and pushed her flat. Then I thrust into her, hard, fast, and raw.
My control had snapped at this point. I grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked it toward me. Her body arched as I fucked her, her ass reverberating with my motion. My other hand snaked up to her tits, pinching the nipples covered in hardened wax and rolling them until it fell away so she felt only my fingers on her skin.