. : bliss valley : . [18+]

. : three : .

t h r e e

Unbe-fucking-lievable.

Bas thought he'd be at least a little uncomfortable tied up in the middle of Rose's room completely bare. That'd be normal, right? He wasn't wearing a stitch besides the aromatic sunflower oil she'd handed him when he arrived.

Sebastian realized he was far past the point of caring.

First she'd watched him undress, talking him through the strip with her arms crossed, leaning against the wall.

"Slowly. Slowly. Your shirt first."

"Turn around. Hands behind your head. All the way up. That's it."

She sounded utterly bored when she said it, voice low and unconcerned, but her eyes told a different story. Her black stiletto nails dug into her forearms whenever he caught her gaze. He could play coy. Bas didn't mind putting on a show, glad to see he was affecting her as much as she was rattling him.

She tossed him the bottle once he was finished, and he caught it with a curious look.

"Rub it in well. Don't miss a spot."

Bas fought a smile and sniffed the tube. He liked the smell. He wondered if it was a gift from Mr. John or maybe one of her own herbal creations.

Bas smoothed the creamy balm into his skin until he was positively glistening, slicking himself up with care. He didn't miss the opportunity to give himself a few relieving strokes, never knowing when permission would be granted.

She didn't scold him, eyeing his wandering hands as if they were her own.

Satisfied with his work, she pulled out her rope and guided him underneath the hooks in her ceiling.

"You gonna fry me up and eat me or something?" He joked. Bas caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, hard planes and smooth lines.

Rosaline hummed and tugged his wrists into firm knots. "Don't tempt me."

He leaned forward and snuck a soft kiss, which she gently returned before shoving his head back with a laugh.

"Cut it out," she warned, in full Domme mode. "Try that shit again and it won't be pretty."

Bas licked his full lips, wondering what she had prepared for them tonight.

Ropes bound and scene initiated, she stepped away and rustled through her black trunk.

"On your kink sheet you mentioned an interest in wax play."

With a knowing eye, she pulled out a thick red candle and a box of matches. In her belt strap rested a flicker whip, two feet long and mean-looking.

"Since you've been so good for me, I think a reward is in order." She circled him, brushing a gloved hand up his flank, inside the soft flesh of a dark quivering thigh, just past the dip of his hip bones where all common sense fled.

"That is, if you're still alright with candles."

Huh?

Oh, right.