Free A Lesson in Desire: Season of Desire Part 3 (Seasons Quartet) by Sadie Matthews

fall, encasing my nipple with a hot coating of wax. As I gasp and moan again at the stab of pain and the echo of pleasure, he pours a stream of wax down my cleavage towards my waist. Then he blows out the candle and puts it on the hearth.
    ‘Fire causes a change of state,’ he murmurs, ‘from solid to liquid, and when the heat is removed, the liquid becomes solid again.’
    Miles brings his face close to my left breast. I can see that the nipple is covered in a white cap of wax. He carefully puts his forefinger and thumb on either side of it and tugs gently so that the cap comes off, making my nipple tingle with delight as it’s freed. Immediately he takes it in his mouth, sucking and pulling hard on the pert bud so that I can’t help moaning again. It’s beautiful. I had no idea my nipples were capable of giving me so much pleasure. The yanking pull of his mouth on my breast is exciting, making me move my hips in time with the deep sucks on my nipple. When it’s exquisitely tormented, he moves to the other, repeating the process of freeing it from its waxen prison and then sucking it into reddened torment.
    When I look down, I can see Miles kneeling between my legs, his form dark against the flickering firelight, his head bent over my breast as he sucks it. I wish I could touch him and caress him but I can’t move my wrists from the side of my dress. I can only writhe with the effect of the wild sensations he’s causing in my body, and gasp with the intensity of what I feel. In my core, I can feel a mad longing building.
    I have to have him. This need has to be slaked.
    I want him to release my hands so that I can tear off his clothes, dig my nails into the skin on his back, find his hard length and pull it into my depths, where I’m so hungry for it. At the very least, I wish he would press himself against the swelling mound where my clit is already stiff against the gold mesh of my knickers, and give me a little of the relief I crave.
    I mustn’t force it. I have to wait.
    At last he releases my nipple with a tiny popping sound and turns his attention away from my breasts. Now he follows the waxen trail down between them, and his hand plays lightly around my belt and then at the silken ribbon of my knickers. I bite my lip again as he runs his finger under the ribbon, tantalisingly close to my mound but still so far away. Then he takes hold of the end of one of the bows I tied earlier and tugs so that it slips free.
    I can’t help myself whimpering with anticipation as he folds the triangle of golden mesh gently away.
    ‘Oh, Winter,’ he murmurs. ‘You’re ready for me, I can tell. You’re learning very well about the transformative power of fire.’
    ‘Please,’ I say, my voice light and breathless, ‘I need more.’
    ‘All in good time. This is your lesson, not mine. Relax and surrender to it.’ His voice is low and hypnotic. I close my eyes and relax my head, letting the tension out of my body. ‘That’s better. Only when you stop fighting it can you begin to experience it.’
    I know I’m not fighting anything, except my own desire and need to move things along at the frenzied pace my body is demanding. But I understand: Miles is dictating the order of events here, not me. The more I surrender control over what is happening, the greater the heights I’ll climb to.
    ‘There’s plenty to learn, Winter. No need to hurry it.’ His tone is gentle, caressing. Now his hand begins to play over me, touching me lightly, stroking me. I feel completely exposed to him, my sex now open to the fire and to his gaze. I open my eyes and see that he’s looking at me, his dark blue eyes fixed on mine. He smiles and says quietly, ‘I love to see the pleasure on your face when I touch you.’
    The pressure in his fingertips grows as his hand roams over me. Now he’s touching the wet slit of my sex, trailing a burning zigzag over it. It feels as though his fingers are on fire as he moves them over me, toying