She heard the change in the wand and then fought not to come off the table as he ran the damn thing over her labia. A little burn started and then the sensation intensified. He moved on to her thighs, but her pussy was definitely awake and alive now.
Charlie focused on the sensation. Ian seemed determined to not leave an inch of skin untouched. He turned the wand up so the lightest burn scraped across her. It brought her warmth where she’d been cold before.
He pulled the wand back and she missed its bite.
“The trick with flash cotton is that you have to make absolutely sure you’ve gotten rid of all the bunched-up pieces. You want flash cotton to be thin, spider web like. If you leave too much together, it could burn the sub. So the first thing the Dominant partner has to remember is to fully part the cotton.”
His big hands went to work on the mound of flash cotton. In no time at all he had pulled it apart so it resembled a filmy spider web. He separated a piece of the cotton about the size of his palm and held it up. “This should work for our first demonstration. I like to call it mound o’fire.”
Ian’s friends all groaned, but Charlie was trying to figure out if he was about to place that cotton on her pussy. She breathed a quick sigh of relief as he covered her right breast with the stuff. Her skin already sensitized by the wand, she could feel every tiny movement as he adjusted the thin, filmy material.
He was really going to do it. He was going to light that cotton on fire and it was going to burn her. Right? Surely it would burn. That was what fire did. Yet she knew this was a perfectly acceptable form of play in the BDSM world. She hadn’t seen a bunch of torched subs running around so it was only rational to come to the conclusion that she would be okay.
But her lizard brain was telling her to punch Ian, jump off the table and run away.
Ian looked down at her, those gorgeous lips of his curled up in a sexy smirk. “Scared?”
Asshole. “Yes.”
“Good, because I’m going to light you up, baby.” He held the violet wand up like it was a torch, the electric sound blotting out the murmurs around her.
Her heart was pounding, almost beating out of her chest. That was what she heard—the sound of the wand and her own loud heart.
Inside, she was shaking, but outside she kept completely still like that cotton on her breast was a spider and it would strike if she moved a single inch.
Then it started. Purple sparks flew from the wand to the cotton and she was on fire. It started at the outer edge, and red and orange flames marched a quick step across her breast, leaving a warm heat trail that fanned over her. She watched with a mix of horror and fascination as the fire flared, and then as quickly as it came, it was gone and she was left with nothing but a warm sensation and a crazy endorphin rush.
She laughed, a wild urge she couldn’t contain. She’d been so afraid, and now that fear morphed into joy.
Ian looked down at her, his previous smirk softening into a smile that showed those creases on his face. “That’s why they call it a mind fuck, baby.” He turned back to his audience. “Now, let me show you how to form some fun patterns. You start with the flash cotton.”
He talked on, but Charlie relaxed, letting his voice flow over her, finding that connection that had been missing most of her life except for those precious weeks.
She would do whatever it took to never lose it again.
Chapter Eight
Ian helped a very subby Charlie off the table. After the initial demo, she’d seemed to relax and allowed him every possible liberty with the rest of the scene. She hadn’t protested once when he drew the cotton out in elaborate trails that led from between her breasts all the way down to her toes. Each time he lit her up, there was a momentary breathlessness and then a brilliant smile as the flame died out, never once harming her.
At least he thought it hadn’t really touched her. It hadn’t been his intention to put her into subspace, but he was pretty sure she was still there. He needed to get her out of the crowd and ensure that he hadn’t burned her in any way. When Charlie was in subspace, she could take a lot more pain than normal. At least she used to be able to.
“Why don’t you take her to the locker room and let her come down?” Alex asked, stepping up to start dealing with the scene clean up. “I’ll take care of this. You deal with aftercare.”
Charlie was in a robe Eve had brought her, her arms wrapped around her middle, but a beatific smile on her face. God, she looked so innocent it was sometimes hard to remember all the shit she pulled.
“I’ll take her to the locker room for you,” Eve offered.
Eve was overstepping a bit, though she couldn’t really know it. Eve often took care of his subs after the play was done because they needed more than he was willing to give them. But this was different. He hadn’t signed a contract with Charlie outlining what he would and wouldn’t do for aftercare. No matter what he wanted, Charlie was his sub for now and he would take care of her. He swung her up into his arms and started walking away.
“Don’t you think that was a little rude, Sir?” Charlie asked, but her head was already drifting to his shoulder, her arms around his neck. “Shouldn’t you have said something to Eve?”
He thought he’d made himself pretty plain. “I prefer actions to words. Words can be taken different ways. Me walking away told Eve everything she needs to know.”
Like to stay out of his relationship with his sub. Except it wasn’t a relationship. Not really.
And maybe he’d gotten into topspace. Playing with her, having her trust him, had gotten him a little high, too. She wasn’t the only one who’d been hit with a ton of adrenaline. Every time he’d touched the wand to the cotton, a thrill had flared through him as well, and he didn’t pretend it would have been that way with any sub. This was his sub, the one who was attuned to his needs and desires, the one who somehow completed him. It was different with the others, and when she was gone he would mourn her all over again, but then he’d always known he would mourn her for the rest of his life.
His body was humming, a healthy lust strumming through his system. Why should he drop her off at the locker room? He’d been honest with her. He’d told her everything that would happen if she got sexual with him again. He’d explained that it wasn’t a relationship and never would be. It was sex, and sex between them had always been fucking incredible.
Charlie was a big girl who knew all the rules. Why should he leave her alone? Why shouldn’t he take this time and enjoy the fuck out of her body?
“Can I talk now?” Charlie asked in a low voice.
“You’re not very good at the whole ‘high protocol’ thing. We’re going to have to work on that.” He carried her past the bar toward the privacy rooms. There were three in Sanctum, each nothing more than a tricked-out bedroom with hooks and eyelets in the walls and ceilings for bondage and suspension play. He would have taken his kit with him, but there was no need. This wasn’t about discipline. It was about getting off. It was about letting his cock have its way.
“I get the feeling you would keep me in high protocol forever if you could.” She cuddled against him, not seeming to care that everyone in the club was watching them.
Ian cared, but there wasn’t a hell of a lot he could do about it. They would watch and gossip. It was a part of life. When he wasn’t on the receiving end, he was usually watching and commenting, so he accepted it. “We get along better when you don’t talk.”
“Caveman.” She slapped lightly at his chest but there was no real intent behind it. “You know you’re kind of a Neanderthal.”