The Widower (18+) | [Complete]

Fourteen

Seeing the aggravating, arrogant Augustine bound and blind between my thighs gave me such a high. My senses sharpened—his scent, every flinch of his muscles, every breath he took captured my attention. I was the hunter and he was my prey. I couldn't wait to devour him.

I reached behind me and patted my hand against his package, making him jump. I climbed off him to stand next to the bed, dragging my fingers down his thigh as I did.

Then, I waited.

I didn't move—not even a shift of my weight. I simply watched.

He tugged at his restraints, testing them while his anticipation grew and faded in the minutes that passed. His brow creased.

"Aubrey?" he called out finally.

"Yes, Augustine?"

His head twitched in my direction. "I thought you had left."

I didn't respond.

Padding over to the nightstand, I smiled as his head stayed tilted in the direction I used to be. The lighter clicked quietly, drawing his attention. I lit the quick and watched in silence as the wax warmed, glistening as it became liquid inside the bowl-shaped divot.

He pulled at his restraints again. When his arms could do nothing but flex under my expert ties, he growled with frustration. I would have thought he wasn't enjoying himself if his cock wasn't rock hard and throbbing rhythmically against his lower stomach.

"Will you say something?" he asked.

My answer came in the form of a drop of wax.

He hissed and bucked when it landed against his chest. "Fuck!"

I climbed back onto the bed and swung my leg over him. I lingered, letting him lie anxiously, watching as his breath became shallower with anticipation. Once he seemed to calm, I tilted the candle again.

"Agh," he grumbled with exasperation. He relaxed back into the mattress. A smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth.

I swirled the candle to verify the pool that had accumulated, letting drop after drop fall in quick succession from his nipple down the crevasse of his chest. His muscles flexed and reddened as he expected more. When nothing came, he relaxed just a tad. "Sh-shit, that hurts."

"Do you think you deserve anything less?" I asked him. I dropped another against his stomach making him hiss again.

"I don't. Fuck, I don't." He panted, waiting for the next drop. I obliged.

My tongue traced over my lips while I trailed the drops lower and lower. His fearful groans turned guttural and reverberated in my core.

When I reached the base of his abs, I let the wax pool yet again. The anticipation was palpable in his audible breaths and the glorious sight of his penis swelling and straining with need. I could let the wax fall there, really hurt him, or, I could do something better.

One last series of drops fell skillfully along the V and down the apex of his thigh to the sound of his moan.

I took him in my hand and held him between my legs. Slowly, I moved my panties to the side and lowered myself down just a couple, delicious inches.

His breath came in quickly, his mouth parted in a silent groan. Blindfolded, he couldn't see how good he felt, how much it drove me crazy to tease him this way.

When I paused, his brow twisted. His legs strained against the silk in a failed attempt to thrust. "No, love. Don't stop."

"Why? Do you want to be inside me?"