His Absolute Domination: The Billionaire's Paradigm (#5) (A BDSM Erotic Romance) (The Billionaire's Ultimatum, Book Two) (15 page)

Protecting me, watching over
me.

He had enough wax now and he tilted
the jar upright again and returned it to the table. With another
paintbrush, he shifted the purple around this way and that,
connecting part of it to the greens, and painting other parts to
match some image in his mind.

I'd focused so much on the wax and the
heat that I didn't realize he still had a brush, too. The bristles
shaped the purple into Lucent's ideal image, but they also caressed
against my body. The paintbrush flicked across my nipple, back and
forth. I bit my lip, excited. The wax cooled, but my body heated up
at the prospects of Lucent's expertly wielded brush.

Back and forth, swishing, teasing me.
He had nothing more to paint, but he seemed to like painting my
nipple nonetheless. Without warning, he tossed the brush onto the
table and moved down to kiss me hard on the lips. I gasped,
breathing into his mouth. One of his hands forcefully grabbed my
hair and tugged, bringing my head up and into his kiss, while his
other hand reached for my oiled, glistening clit. He rubbed me
gently, back and forth.

I wanted to grab him. I wanted to
touch him. I went to do exactly that and tried to bring my hand to
the back of his neck, but it was the hand he'd trapped with his
leather cuff earlier. Feebly, I stretched to try and touch him, but
the restraint refused me. Lucent slipped a finger into me roughly,
toying with my sex, and he kissed me even rougher.

Then he stopped.

As quickly as that, he resumed his
calm demeanor and reached for the darker purple wax. "More pouring,
Miss Tanner."

I nodded, breathing hard, unsure what
to make of this.

He poured the darker wax across some
of the lighter one, focusing mostly on the breast he'd only
partially painted the last time. This nipple needed attention too,
no doubt, and Lucent supplied it with plenty in the form of hot and
heated wax. He poured until it hurt, but no more, and then he moved
on. The darker wax formed the shape of a sliver of a crescent moon,
from my breast and nipple to the side of my stomach near my belly
button.

Then, the brush. I watched him. I
should ask questions, I thought, except I didn't know how to think
of any questions right now. Everything eluded me. I was wax and
heat and pleasure and his. Oil, slick, dripping and
ecstatic.

He teased my nipple again like before.
I knew. This time I knew what came after the brush against my
nipple, just like I now knew what came after a spanking with
Lucent. I knew and I waited and I grinned in anticipation, happy
and eager.

Lucent didn't kiss me, though. He
didn't throw the brush aside and attack me with his passion. He
didn't touch my clit or my slit or my sex or my labia or anything.
He did put the brush down gently, and took up another clean one,
but I found this quite a bit less interesting.

He laughed at me. "Disappointed, are
we?"

"I thought you were going to kiss me
again," I said.

"I know." He dipped the brush into the
single brown candle and painted a line from the lower parts of the
purple and my belly button to the very top of my pubic
hair.

"Why didn't you?" I asked.

"It's more exciting when you don't
expect it," he said. "Your expression and your gasp and the look of
surprise in your eyes pleases me. I like you in all ways, Miss
Tanner, but those rare expressions of spontaneous pleasure are my
favorites."

I smiled, giddy. Lucent sounded so
formal and erudite sometimes, but I loved the meaning behind his
words. He made everything he said important and special, and when
he spoke about me I felt like I was important and special because
of it.

He returned to the greens, painting
little spots and lines here and there, following alongside the
streak of brown. The brushes tickled and teased at my stomach and I
squirmed a little, side to side, but I tried to stay still. With
Lucent watching me, glaring and teasing me with his eyes, it made
this difficult.

Soon he finished, though. Or nearly
finished.

"Miss Tanner," he said. "This final
part will be more intense than any of the previous parts combined,
because of the nature of where I wish to pour wax. It is also
paramount to my plans. If you wish to forego it, I shall
understand, though."

I eyed him, confused. To better make
his point, he rested his palm over my sex, curling his fingers
downwards and squeezing me gently. I melted into him and pushed up
against him, desiring more.

Taking hold of the mostly unused brown
candle once more, he hovered it above his other hand and, by
association, my pussy.

I stared and... wait, oh my. Did he...
wax pouring... heat... right there? His gentle, insistent nod
seemed to indicate that, yes, he wanted to pour melted wax across
my most intimate area.

"I trust you, Lucent," I said. "Please
don't hurt me."

"Never," he said, and with such
conviction that it stunned me. What was he thinking right
now?

I didn't have time to ponder his
meaning or his thoughts before he removed his hand from my body and
began his final task.

It didn't hurt at first, nor was it
anything exceptional. Wax dripped from the jar and onto my body. He
started near the end of his previous brown line, creating a pool in
my pubic hair, but then he went lower. The wax washed across my
body at the same time, too, gathering heat and a little speed as it
trailed lower and lower.

Then he reached my clit.

With the previous warmth already
there, and more bubbling forth with Lucent's constant pouring, the
effects were intense and immediate. I cried out, gasping. It didn't
hurt so much as it was... powerful. A pervasive, strong heat
pattered against the center of my pleasure, consuming
me.

I was a body, a person, in a room, on
the world, in a universe of many planets, but at that moment I felt
like I was nothing more than my clitoris, a single pearl hidden
behind a thin veil, being covered in smooth, silken wax from head
to toe.

The wax dripped down my core,
traveling across my labia, inside and out. For protective measures,
or something more, Lucent pushed two fingers inside of me, keeping
the wax away from my inner depths. Protective, yes, except this was
somewhat of a double-edged sword.

My body clenched against his fingers
and bucked in protest, alarmed at all of the sensation. But still
he poured. I tried to grab the edge of the bed and grip it tight in
my hands, but only one of them could. The other, bound by the
leather cuff, stretched and strained uselessly near my
side.

It was hot, too hot. Not too hot,
though. Hotter than before, but it didn't burn yet. I could do
more. I clenched my teeth, trying to overpower these new sensations
with some that I knew better. My eyelids clamped tightly shut,
blinding me, and still Lucent poured.

Then he stopped. He stopped and he
kissed me. With two fingers still inside of me, and his lips on me,
he uncuffed my wrist with his free hand. The snaps came loose and
my arm broke free from restraint and I grabbed him by the neck and
pulled him against me.

Or, I tried to pull him against me,
but he smiled and laughed against my lips and pressed me back onto
the table.

"Lucent," I whined. "I want to kiss
you."

"Soon," he said. "I want you to see
something."

This intrigued me. What was there to
see? I looked down at my body and saw his painting, but from my odd
vantage point, I couldn't quite make out what he'd done. I supposed
it looked nice, though?

Holding up one finger, indicating I
should wait patiently, he strode towards the door. Flipping another
switch near the lightswitch, he waited. The panel above me
quivered, shifted, and moved aside. Directly overhead was a
body-length mirror set into the ceiling.

I looked up, and in effect down, at
myself.

Painted across my body in tender
detail was a purple lilac. The original green part from when he
began made a leaf, and the purples created the main part of it,
with tiny florets swirling across my breasts. The brown line down
my stomach was a branch, and the other green spots were more
leaves. The thick brown patch across my pubic area and my sex
formed a mound of dirt, or something like it. I didn't think this
was part of the picture exactly, but it did look nice and
interesting, albeit different.

I gaped, staring at my body and the
wax picture painted onto me.

"With your permission," Lucent said,
"I would like to take a picture of this. I will keep it private,
Miss Tanner, and I swear never to show anyone."

"I..." I didn't know how I felt about
that. Was this pornography or art? Both? Who knew? "Can I have a
copy?" I asked, sheepish.

He blinked at me, clearly caught off
guard. "Yes," he said after taking a moment to regain his
composure. "If you'd like, I can arrange that."

I nodded and lay perfectly still. The
wax covering my clit and my lower lips cooled, but I continued to
feel an insistent pulse where Lucent had first poured it. Pounding,
beating, thrumming like a miniature heartbeat, my clit desired
freedom and release.

Lucent reached atop one of his
bookshelves and retrieved a fancy looking camera. Turning it on and
adjusting the settings, he pointed it at me and...

Click.

Just one. That was enough, apparently.
I glanced over at him in time to see him turning the camera off and
stowing it away.

What now? We were going to have sex,
he said. I definitely liked that idea. Though I didn't quite know
how this should work with me covered in wax. Lucent knew what he
was doing; he returned to my side and collected a small, metal
spreading knife from one of his drawers.

"This," he said, "is the best
part."

Why? I didn't know until he
started.

He formulated it into sensible ideas
and words while my mind reeled with the possibilities.

"The heat of the wax and the way it
dries on your skin increases your sensitivity," he said. With
quick, deft strokes he peeled wax from my upper body and my breasts
and my stomach. The chips and pieces cracked away and he flicked
them onto the floor.

Wow.

My skin beneath the wax
was red and responsive, like a sunburn but not bad. Everywhere
Lucent touched, everywhere he removed the wax, I just felt
more
. When he tweaked my
nipple after freeing it from its cocoon of wax, I swore I must have
nearly had an orgasm right then and there, from nothing more than
that. I felt like I had four nipples tightly packed into one and
all of them sensitive beyond belief.

Lucent chipped and flicked and removed
more wax, leaving a red-skinned imprint of his lilac flower
painting on my body. When he reached my pubic mound, I realized I
was in trouble. Lucent realized it, too, but with a goofy grin on
his face and an ever vigilant gaze towards his newfound source of
excitement, I don't think he found it as troubling as
me.

The wax came free from my pubic hair
easily, just as he'd said. The mineral oil kept it from sticking
too much, though it did nothing to remove my heightened
sensitivity. He cracked and peeled away the wax on my clit and my
labia and everything else and...

I spasmed in some heady, immediate
orgasm. What? How? I knew how, and yet I didn't. I'd been so worked
up before, so needy and aroused, that with the extra sensation
throbbing through me from the wax, and the easy way Lucent handled
my body, I became completely undone. While I squirmed in climax on
the table, completely not expecting this, Lucent put a hand on my
stomach and pubic bone and kept me mostly in place.

He seemed more amused than anything,
and he stroked and rubbed around the hood of my clit, urging my
climax onwards.

Oh, wow. Oh, wow. That was all I could
think. Oh, wow.

"So you see, Miss Tanner," Lucent
said, cocksure and confident. "I'm about to have a lot of fun with
you. Not that you need it at the moment, as I'm positive your
arousal will give me plenty to work with, but the mineral oil from
before should provide us with an interesting experience,
too."

He didn't say anymore. He didn't ask
me any questions, or tell me what he was doing, or anything.
Staring at him, rapt, my pleasure fading slightly during my
post-orgasmic wind-down, Lucent divested himself of his shoes and
pants and underwear. Standing before me, naked and glorious, he
stepped to the end of the table.

He grabbed my legs. He grabbed my legs
and pulled, and with the slickness of the oil that had dripped onto
his cushioned table, I slid towards him easily. His erection stood
prominently before me, eager, like he said, with
anticipation.

I thought I might have a little time
to prepare, maybe some warm up beforehand, but, no. He pulled me
and I slid directly onto his cock. He sheathed himself inside of
me, the mineral oil and my arousal making his journey extremely
easy.

I had an orgasm, and I was coming down
from an orgasm, but apparently I wasn't. I gasped as he fitted
himself inside of me, filling me completely. He held my thighs
tight, squeezing me against him, and in my heightened state of
affairs, all I could do was feel pleasure. As he rocked against me,
pushing in and out of me in quick bursts, I think I
died.