Not Safe for Work(79)

After a while, a thick layer had formed on top of his back and shoulders. I put the ladle back in the pot and, with a butter knife that was deliberately kept cold, scraped the wax off his skin. He gasped and twitched beneath the cold metal, and swore when the wax grabbed an errant hair.

“Just be glad I’m doing this on your back.” I laughed. “Maybe if I ever want to punish you, I should put wax on your chest.”

A strangled sound escaped his lips.

“Relax.” I peeled another piece of wax off the groove of his spine. “You’d have to f*ck up pretty hard for me to wax your chest.”

“That’s—damn it!—encouraging.”

I laughed. “It’ll teach you to behave, won’t it?”

He wisely didn’t even try to mutter anything under his breath.

I removed the last piece of wax, and I ran my hand over his newly exposed flesh. “There. Now I can start all over again.”

“Oh f*ck.” He released a heavy sigh.

“You want me to stop?”

“No. Just…” He rolled his shoulders as much as his position allowed. “It’s intense.”

“As it should be.” I dipped the ladle again. “It’s supposed to be.” The wax hit just below his shoulder blade, and the throaty cry he released damn near made me come right then and there. I poured more on. He whimpered. Fuck yes.

I drew lines all over his back. Swirls. Switchbacks. Sometimes he hissed, sometimes he just recoiled. Other times, his muscles twitched, but he moaned so quietly it was barely audible. By the time I’d covered his back in wax again, his skin was gleaming with sweat, and the ends of his hair were damp and curling.

I put the ladle back in the pot, and this time, left it there. Touching his shoulder, I said, “You did well. Did you enjoy it?”

“Intense,” he murmured. “Yeah.”

I smiled and squeezed his shoulder. He may not have been a masochist per se, but he was no wimp.

I shut off the Crock-Pot and started removing the wax from his skin again. This time, he barely responded. The occasional soft moan, but that was it. He was probably floating on a cloud of endorphins right then. Maybe not all the way into subspace, but damned close.

I carefully slid the toy free, and he moaned, letting his head fall forward.

“You okay?” I asked.

Rick nodded. “Just…a lot.”

I rubbed a hand up and down his side. “That’s the idea. Not in pain or anything?”

“No. I’m good.”

I untied his feet, then his hands. Making sure to keep a firm grip on his arm, I helped him up off the table, but then encouraged him to sit on its edge.

“We’re done.” I handed him his water and kissed his cheek. “Relax for a minute, and then we’ll go upstairs.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. For the scene? For the reprieve? Didn’t matter. His gratitude made my heart flutter as much as his submission did.

We stayed like that for a while, drinking some water and catching our breath until he was steady on his feet. Then I guided him up the stairs, leaving our clothes in the dungeon. Eventually, I’d go back down, clean up the room, retrieve our clothes. For now, my focus was on him and helping him onto the bed.

“How do you feel?” I asked as I settled in beside him.

“Good.” He rested his head on my shoulder. “I’m sorry about earlier. With the machine. It—”

“No, don’t be.” I kissed the top of his head and held him closer. “The whole point is to overwhelm your senses, and there’s a very fine line between too much and too much. I fully expect you to tell me if we’re on the wrong side of that line. It’s bound to happen, especially now while we’re still finding each other’s limits. Getting to know each other.”

“It’s weird to think about, isn’t it?”

“How do you mean?”

“That we’re still figuring all this out.” He lifted himself up onto his elbow. “I keep forgetting that we only started doing this recently.”

“Me too, now that you mention it.” I kissed him, drawing it out for a moment but not deepening it.

He looked in my eyes again. “It’s funny. Most Doms I’ve played with before, it’s a slow process. But with you…” He lost focus for a moment. “With you, it’s easy.”

“It’s easy with you too. There’s still a learning curve, and there’s bound to be bumps in the road, but…”

He nodded. He started to speak but yawned instead. “Sorry. Jesus.”

“Tired?”

“Exhausted.” He smiled sleepily. “In a good way, though.”

“I should hope so.” I kissed his forehead. “Go ahead and sleep for a while if you need to. I’m not going anywhere.”

He smiled, eyes sliding closed.

And in minutes, he was asleep again.

He was right. It was easy. Even as we worked out the limits, which sometimes meant hitting those limits and needing to back off, it was never awkward or unpleasant. This relationship’s learning curve was probably the easiest I’d ever been on.

Well, there was no telling where it was going, but I liked where it was right now.