Free Red by Kate Kinsey

along his throat, then into his ear. Her teeth nipped his earlobe, not softly this time, but hard enough to ignite a flash of pain as sweet as it was disturbing.
    Her hands moved down his body, not the light teasing touch this time, but the firm command of ownership. Over his throat, down his shoulders, along the subtle definition of chest muscles.
    “Right here, right now,” she whispered in his ear. “Your body belongs to me.”
    Her wet mouth fastened on one of his nipples. It puckered as she traced circles around the tight nub of flesh with the tip of her tongue. She pressed her mouth to his chest and suckled.
    He had never known a man’s nipples could be so sensitive before she proved it to him. She sucked, nibbled, and sucked some more, alternating between them, her mouth and teeth getting harder each time. His nipples seemed to be attached directly to his cock. That swollen muscle was so hard, it ached.
    She sat up, licking her lips. He looked down and saw his cock jutting up between her thighs and his, as if it belonged to both of them.
    She reached for the white candle.
    “There’s a fine line between pleasure and pain . . .”
    “I’m not so sure about this—”
    “Oh, don’t whine. Men should beg, but never whine.”
    Her naked flesh glowed as she leaned backward, thrusting her breasts forward. He watched, fascinated, as she tipped the candle and allowed several drops of wax to spatter onto her skin.
    At the contact of the wax, her back arched and she made a little noise deep in her throat.
    Then she rolled her hips, grinding her pussy lips against his cock.
    “Untie me.” His voice came out just a little breathless and it pissed him off. “Untie me, Gee. Let me fuck you.”
    “You want to fuck me, baby?” She smiled coyly, her voice lilting like some porno movie sex kitten. But then it dropped again into that deep husky silk. Raw, hungry, dirty. She spat out the words.
    “You want to slam your hard cock into my hot, wet little cunt and fuck it, do you?”
    He jerked against the restraints, but only managed to rattle the carabiners.
    “Goddamn it, you know I do.”
    The hand not holding the candle was toying with his cock.
    “Tell me, baby.” She reached down to his balls and squeezed. “Tell me how bad you want to fuck me.”
    “I wanna fuck you—”
    He wanted to impale her with his cock, fuck her into the goddamned mattress, fuck her until he split her in two—
    “No,” she said coolly.
    She ran a finger across the head of his aching cock, catching the glistening drop of pre-cum and raising it to her lips. Her tongue flicked out; then the finger slid in and out of her mouth.
    “Tonight, I fuck you. I’m going to ride your cock like you’re a dog put out to stud . . . but not yet.”
    She tipped the candle over him. The first drip of wax hit the middle of his chest.
    “Shit!” It wasn’t exactly pain, but the heat of it against his flesh was too foreign. “What the fuck are you doing?”
    “It’s called wax play.”
    “I know what it’s called—Ah, shit !”
    The candle moved closer, and the next drop was hotter.
    “Fuck, fuck, fuck !”
    He felt his balls draw up, tighten. It was confusing, the way his mind said this is fucked up, but his cock was screaming yes, yes, yes.
    The wax ran slowly, warmly, into his belly button, sending shivers down into his toes. The carabiners rattled louder this time.
    He stared up at her, into those deep emerald eyes, and there was something more than simple playfulness in them. More than simple enjoyment. Something complicated and maybe even dangerous . . .
    “Christ!” The word came out a moan. “You sick bitch, you’re enjoying this.”
    “So are you,” she whispered, smiling that Mona Lisa smile. “Admit it.”
    More wax spattered down onto his chest. His body spasmed, but her weight on his thighs kept him from bucking her off.
    Christ!
    She laughed softly and ground her cunt against his thighs. She was slippery with her juices. He