Unlocked (11 page)

She didn't even jump when I spoke. "Well, isn't this romantic."

She gave a little laugh. "Is it? You'll have to fill me in. I'm having a little trouble seeing right now." It was funny, although my comment had been fairly innocuous, there was something different about her voice. It was softer, more compliant. The change occurred whenever we made love, whether there was kink involved or not. I don't even think she realised it was happening, as though she simply slipped from one persona to the other, automatically. I was amazed she'd never realised her predilection before. She was a natural.

I walked over and dragged a hand gently down her back. So soft, like stroking silk. She trembled a little, but otherwise didn't move.

"I have something special planned tonight," I said. "Something new."

"I suspected as much," she replied. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me what it is, though?"

I chuckled. "Now where would be the fun in that?"

I moved over to the dresser and withdrew a bottle I'd stashed there earlier. "Have I told you how gorgeous you are today?" I asked.

Her lips quirked up. "Not in at least ten hours."

"Then I have been remiss," I replied, moving closer. "I have to admit, I've been thinking about this all day. I could barely wait to get my hands on this body again."

"Your hands have been on this body a lot lately."

I slipped onto the bed and straddled her legs. "Not like this," I replied, popping the cap and squeezing a large drop of massage oil onto her back.

She twitched and let out a little noise of surprise, but it quickly morphed into a groan as my hands began to work across her skin. "God, a girl could get used to this after work."

She wasn't the only one enjoying herself. The sight of her skin, slick and shining, was like a shot of testosterone straight to my veins, and she felt magnificent between my fingers. I kneaded my way slowly up and down her back, paying attention to each individual muscle. In my younger days, in a spontaneous attempt to impress a woman, I'd taken a massage class, and while I was a little rusty, with a little trial and error I found the sort of pressure and pace Sophia liked. More than a few areas felt tight, so I spent extra time on them, enjoying the sensation of her gradually melting beneath me.

The lower I moved down her body, the deeper her noises became, the mood gradually shifting from sensual to sexual. Applying more oil I began working the firm globes of her ass slowly, occasionally dipping close to her sex but taking pains not to actually make contact. She shifted, letting out several little whimpers, but didn't voice any objection. Seeing that restraint got me so ridiculously hard. Only a month ago, she'd already be begging for me to touch her there. She'd beg eventually, I'd make sure of it, but the fact that she held back now showed how far her self-control had come.

I had no doubt that she knew there was more to the evening than a simple massage — we'd been together long enough for my surprises to be truly unexpected anymore — but I was still looking forward to what came next. I love that sense of unpredictability, of taking my partner into unknown territory. The uncertainty of it heightens everything. I could almost feel the anticipation vibrating through her body.

"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?"

"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.

"You
have
done very well," I said, brushing the ice ever so gently along her slit. "But there's one more thing I want to do first."

She let out a groan of disappointment, but it quickly cut off as I began cupping and kneading her ass. God, it was so firm, so perfect. I could have played with just that part of her for hours. But I didn't want to lose the effect of what I'd just done. Her skin was still icy and wet, and it made a delicious cracking noise as I slapped my palm gently against it.

Instantly her body tensed. She knew what that symbolised, and although I'd spanked her once before, it was some time ago. I didn't blame her for being a little fearful.

"But I kept my hands exactly where you told me to!" she said.

I laughed. There was still plenty of vanilla in her. "I know. This isn't a punishment. It's a reward." I leaned in close, stroking her skin tenderly. "Remember how much you enjoyed being spanked last time? Remember how wet it made you?"

She swallowed loudly, her cheeks flushing pink, but after a few seconds she nodded.

"Good. You can lift up your hands now and get onto your knees."

She did as I asked, the smallest tremor evident in her movements. Sliding in next to her, I wrapped my hands around her hips and lifted her over my lap until she lay, bent over my knees, across the bed.

I took a moment to admire her in that position. I could feel the heat of her arousal radiating onto my thigh. She was so sexy and so strong, yet she allowed herself to be so vulnerable. It was one of the most erotic things I'd ever seen. "Wonderful. Are you ready?"

She drew a long breath, then nodded.

"Say it."

"I'm ready to be spanked." It was barely more than a whisper.

Those words were music to my ears. "Okay."

And without further ado, I pulled my hand away and brought it whipping back against her left cheek. The crack was much louder this time, ringing throughout the room. She bit back a cry.

"It will sting more this time because of the cold," I told her, pausing to admire the small red circle that was blooming on her skin. "That's part of the fun of temperature play, it sets all your nerves into overdrive."

I started softly, easing her into it, alternating from side to side and soothing each cheek with a gentle rub before continuing. I kept my pace uneven, never pausing the same amount of times between blows, never allowing her to develop a rhythm. With the blindfold on, she was constantly guessing.

Her body flinched with every blow, her breath coming short and sharp, but the pitch of her cries and the quirk of her mouth told me all I needed to know.

"Are you enjoying that?" I asked, landing a slightly harder slap.

"Yes," she replied, her voice thick with lust.

"Shall I smack you harder?"

She nodded quickly, now utterly shameless.

My next blow was stronger, and she yelped as it landed, driving her crotch into my leg and sending a pulse of pleasure shooting through my own body as she pressed against my cock.

I sped up, losing myself in the moment. With every blow she grew more excited, and that in turn stoked my own arousal. There's something intoxicating about the connection I feel during a scene like that. The trust, the sensuality, the vortex of sensations; it's a potent cocktail.

Soon, her entire ass was rosy and glowing. I paused, parting her cheeks with my hand, mesmerised by the wetness between. Unable to resist, I punctuated my next smack by slipping a finger from my free hand inside her. She let out a long moan, a sound of pure animal pleasure, as all her muscles clenched tight around me.

"Christ, look how turned on you are," I said.

She writhed beneath me as I explored her, revelling in the way her body hummed as I stroked her G-spot. I'd been with a lot of other women, but none looked so perfectly alluring in their pleasure as she did. Something about her just sent all of my blood rushing south.

Slipping my finger free, I left it poised against her entrance, and then smacked her again. "Do you think I should keep going?"

"Please," she replied, sounding almost pained.