There’s about three inches left to burn, but I’m taking no chances. I massage my clit furiously, relishing the pleasure but hating myself—and this situation—at the same time. I always imagined sex would be pure and beautiful. A sacred act where you rolled around in silk sheets and whispered sweet nothings in a lover’s ear, but this? It’s nothing like that.
“You’re getting close,” he comments.
He holds the fireball to my ankle and bounces it up my leg. I yelp, but continue pleasuring myself.Focus on your hands, Erin.Ignore what he’s doing.He goes higher, and the flames lick at my knees. I imagine that it’s something else. A warm caress. A gentle touch. Anything to distract me.
“Maybe you need more incentive,” he says, pushing the candle farther into my ass, so deep that I can feel its warmth.
Lex’s flame wand continues rolling up my legs, whooshing back and forth. I gasp as it brushes my delicate inner thighs.
“Come for me, Little Ghost.”
My orgasm nears. I push aside my self-consciousness and let my eyelids flutter closed, seeking the joy in the heat like a warm shower spray. There’s no other way.
The first wave of pleasure rolls over me with a moan. The stuffed candle heightens the sensation, as if the orgasm is rebounding around my body, like an echo down a mountain range.
Lex yanks the chain hard, cutting into my windpipe. I choke and gasp for air. Dots swim across my vision while my pussy spasms, consumed by waves of toe-curling pleasure that are being squeezed from me, alongside my oxygen.
“Lex—” I gurgle, wobbling on my feet and about to pass out.
He releases the tension, allowing my lungs to swell.
When I come to, dizzy and in a haze, Lex faces me. He watches with a deep fascination that, while unnerving, reminds me he’s under my spell, too. There’s power in my ability to hypnotize a monster while coming undone. If only I can understand what they see in me…
“I’ve played your game,” I say, glancing at the mirror. “Put it out.”
He cackles. “Do you really think I play by the rules?” He leans close, his breath fanning my face. “Like you, I play dirty.”
My heart thunders while he heads to my bathroom. The faucet runs, followed by a sizzle of him presumably putting out his flame rod. I thrash my neck from side to side, increasingly more panicked the shorter the candle gets.
“Lex,” I yell, unable to keep the terror from my voice. “Put it out!”
He doesn’t respond.
He simply returns to the room, gathers his supplies, and walks away with his briefcase.
“Lex!” I scream as his footsteps grow distant. Wax continues to drip onto the floor and mirror. One drop lands on my inner thigh, scorching me. “You can’t leave me here!”
The chandelier rattles as I grope the collar, fumbling with the lock. It’s no use. A key is required. Frustrated tears spill down my cheeks.
“Help!” I plead. “Somebody help me!”
I scream in frustration. Not at Lex. Not at my masked men. But at everything. It’s primal, coming out like a carnal roar.
Suddenly, the floorboards creak, and Lex nudges the door open.
He leans against the doorframe and purrs, “I knew you’d have a pretty scream.”
This is what he wanted. To humiliate me. Shame me. Make me scream.
Lex calmly pulls the candle from my ass with a slippery pop. He blows it out and stashes the waxy stump in his pocket.
“I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” he says, unlocking my collar, then holding my chin. He cups my face with a force that implies he won’t hesitate to break my neck. “Never let another man touch you again.”
Finally free, I fall to the ground, cradling my neck and spluttering for air.
“What do you know about Sarah?” I wheeze, reaching for his ankle but missing.
His shoulders tense. “If you want to know what happened to your sister, look closer to home.”
