Under His Command (Six-Alarm Sexy) (22 page)

“And I haven’t been communicating openly and freely.”

“Not even close.”

“Well I’d like to change that. Please give me another chance. Sir.”

“Tonight, after the luau, we’ll have a scene. A little bit of edge play to introduce you to something very special to me.” The idea of Rickie laid out on the table submitting to his favorite play made him go rock hard. He wasn’t sure he’d survive the thrill of seeing his wife with waves of blue heat racing over her body.

Her eyes glittered as she yanked the towel from his hips and caught him in her fist. “I can hardly wait.”

Chapter 10

As the luau began to wind down, Jamie placed a bottle of water on the table in front of Rickie. “Drink up, babe. I’m heading back to the cottage to get things ready for you.”

She glanced around, nervously licking her lips. “We’re going to do it? Do the scene I mean?”

“Join me in ten minutes.” The cottage was only a short distance from the open-air restaurant, and the path was well-lit. She’d be safe alone.

When Rickie nodded, he jogged back, pumped and excited about the upcoming scene. Fire play. He’d taken to it when he was still a novice in the lifestyle, but it had quickly become his specialty. For years he’d dreamed of sharing his love of fire with Rickie, but it wasn’t until this week, until today, that he’d ever considered making the dream a reality.

In the sitting area, he pushed the furniture against the wall to make space for the massage table he’d borrowed from the spa. He placed a cushion from one of the lanai loungers on top of the table, making a nice comfortable space for Rickie.

He dragged an end table and set it at the head of the massage table. Next, he laid out the equipment he’d need. Since all of his was at home in a well-hidden box, he’d have to make do with what he’d scavenged from the grocery store, the pharmacy, and the lumber store: a dozen torches made with chopsticks and two-inch gauze, a stainless steel pitcher he’d filled with rubbing alcohol, dry gauze for swabbing, gauze soaking in alcohol, a survival candle in a sturdy holder, and several packets of instant ice from the first aid kit. Under the table, he stashed the fire extinguisher from the closet.

Almost ready. Picking up the remote, he found an easy-listening station that Rickie would like, then he lit the candles he’d used the night they had their first scene. The room needed to be dim, not dark. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and grimaced. The khaki shorts and Hawaiian shirt didn’t fit the Fire Master image. Unfortunately, his leather pants were at home in the box with his equipment. Would Rickie like them? Maybe he’d find out some other time. But only if tonight went well. For now, he’d have to settle for jeans and a tight black T-shirt. Only natural fibers would do. Anything else could melt, or worse, ignite.

He’d just finished changing when a knock at the door made him jump. He checked his watch. Ten minutes exactly. Rickie was nothing if not punctual. He hit the lights and wiped his palms on his thighs, then took several deep breaths to center himself before opening the door.

Rickie clutched her purse, and he could almost hear her knees knocking. Smiling, he held out his hand and slipped into his Dom role. “Welcome, Mrs. Caldwell.”

She swallowed and placed her hand in his, letting him draw her into the cottage. Her eyes widened as she took in the candlelight and music before zeroing in on the massage table. He could see her confusion as her brow furrowed, and he had to bite back a grin. She’d probably been expecting whips and chains. Not that he had anything against those. If things went well, he’d introduce her to those toys, but not tonight.

“Get undressed and I’ll explain what I have planned.”

“Everything?”

“Yes.”

She walked over to the bed and reached behind to unzip her dress. Her fingers shook and she couldn’t grasp the zipper tab. Jamie went to her and gently brushed her hands aside. Might as well start the warm-up right now.

Inch-by-inch, he lowered the zipper, exposing creamy flesh that glowed gold in the candlelight. His lips followed the descent with butterfly kisses along her spine. She moaned and her head fell back. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he slid the wide straps of her dress down her arms and over her hands. The dress puddled on the floor. Kneeling, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her tiny panties and stripped them off her legs. Unable to resist the temptation of her fabulous ass, he pressed his lips to each round cheek, kissing and nibbling. He was careful not to leave any marks that could collect the alcohol and burn her.

Spinning her around, he found himself at eye-level with her pussy. Her beautiful bare pussy. He almost swallowed his tongue seeing all that exposed pink flesh. Placing a small kiss on her mound, he promised himself to return for a taste if the scene went well. He stood and took her hands. “You’re so goddamn gorgeous, Mrs. Caldwell.”

A blush blooming on her cheeks, she slipped off her shoes and followed him over to the massage table. “So why couldn’t I wear any perfume or use any lotion? And why did I need to shave my p-pussy?”

“Hop up here and I’ll explain.”

With his help, she climbed onto the table. And squeezed her legs together.

“Uh-uh.” He pushed her knees apart. “Remember, never hide yourself from me.”

“Okay.”

He crossed his arms and frowned. “Do you need another lesson on how to address me, Mrs. Caldwell?” This scene could be dangerous, and it was critical that she accept her role as sub and his as Dom. There was no room for leniency or error.

“No. No, Sir.”

“Very good.” He lit the survival candle then picked up a torch from the end table and dipped it into the jug of rubbing alcohol, pressing it against the side to squeeze out any excess liquid. Drips led to unexpected results and he didn’t want anything unexpected to happen tonight. He could feel Rickie’s eyes on him as he went through the preparations, feel her tension and worry. He passed the torch over the open flame, and it ignited with a burst of light and heat.

She gasped and leaned far back on the table. “W-what are you going to do with that? Sir?” she asked, barely managing to tack on that last word. Knowing she was frightened, he let it slide.

Away from her face and the equipment on the end table, he waved the torch around, making shapes in the dark. “Tonight, my sweet sub, you and I are playing with fire.”

“But you’re a fireman!” Her hands flew to her mouth. “Sir.”

The outrage on her face made him laugh. “Haven’t you ever wondered what drew me to firefighting? I’m not from one of those families where half the men are in the fire service.”

She set her hands on her thighs and kept her gaze downcast. Did she know she was presenting again? This time though, it didn’t bother him. He loved seeing the glint of her juices in the light of the flames.

“Fire is magical. It gives life, and it takes life away. Some fear it, others worship it. I have a healthy respect for fire, and because of that, it gives me great pleasure. A pleasure I can share with others. A pleasure I want to share with you.”

Lifting her head, she offered him a tremulous smile.

Time for a demonstration. He stretched his uninjured arm out and ran the torch along the inside of his forearm. The fire followed his lead before quickly extinguishing itself. He brushed his arm on his thigh to complete the pattern.

“Oh!” She grabbed his arm and touched her fingers to the area where the flame had been. “Did it hurt, Sir?”

“Not at all.” To him, flames on his flesh were like a lover’s tongue. Sometimes it was a long broad lick, other times, a short sharp lash. Either way it turned him way the hell on. Just that small taste had made him hard. He couldn’t wait to get on with it. But this wasn’t about him, it was about Rickie.

“Aren’t you afraid to get burned again, Sir?” Her eyes went to the damaged skin on his other arm. “Fire hurts.”

“It’s all about the fuel. The fire last night was gasoline-based, which burns very hot. I’m going to use 70% rubbing alcohol. Since it burns just above normal body temperature, it will feel warm, but not hot. Now, if I used 90% rubbing alcohol, it
would
burn you.”

“So you want to do that on my body?” She made a face that had him smiling. “Now I get why you wanted me to shave, Sir.”

“That and because the thought of your naked pussy turns me on.” When she squirmed, he grinned. He was so loving this. “If the fire starts to feel too warm or if things get too intense for you, you will use your safewords. Tell me what they are.”

“Yellow for slow down. Red for stop.”

“Perfect. You’re handling this very well.” He trailed his fingers down her arm in a calming gesture. He wasn’t going to explain about subspace; no need to alarm her. In this kind of play, it was the Dom’s responsibility to see to the sub’s well-being; his responsibility to check her skin for color changes and hot spots; his responsibility to push only as far as the sub could handle. And with Rickie, those were responsibilities he cherished. “If you have any questions, ask me now.”

“Not a question, but I do have a request, if that’s permitted, Sir.”

“Go ahead.”

“Can you walk me through this, Sir? It will help me relax if I know what you’re doing. I really don’t want to mess this up for you.”

He blew out the torch and set it on the steel platter he’d left on the end table for that purpose. Caressing her cheek, he smiled. “I have every intention of walking you through it, step-by-step until you’re comfortable with the technique. There shouldn’t be any pain. At least not more than you find enjoyable. Fire play is sexy and sensual. It feels good, like the best high imaginable. I want you to have that.”

“What if something goes wrong?”

“You remember I told you I was in the lifestyle before we met. I was a Fire Master. I did shows and taught workshops on fire play. I won’t lie to you; in unskilled hands, even the basic techniques I’m going to do tonight can be very dangerous. Lucky for us, I have a lot of experience, and if something does go wrong”—he pointed to his chest and grinned—“I
am
a firefighter and an EMT. Relax. You’re in good hands.”

Judging by the angle of her brows, she still wasn’t convinced. “Aren’t you out of practice though, Sir?” she asked.

“I’ve kept it up. I do demos when we get prospective members for the technical rescue team.”

“You’re teaching them about fire play and sex?” Her eyes bulged.

“No! I test them to be sure they aren’t trying to get onto the rescue team because they’ve developed a fear of fire. One member who panics in a fire situation puts the whole team at risk.”

She massaged her forehead. “How did I not know about all this? I’m your wife. A wife should know when her husband has a strong passion for something.”

Placing his hands on either side of her hips, he leaned forward until his face was inches from hers. “Fire play was part of my BDSM life, so I kept it from you. I’m sorry about that. But we’ve made promises to each other now—no more secrets.” He closed his eyes for a second. “There’s so much I want to share with you about me and about this life. I hope you’ll let me.”

She kissed him, her lips soft and pliant. “Of course, I will. I’m dying to know all of you.”

People said he was brave, but compared to Rickie, he really wasn’t. He always went into situations with both eyes open, knowing exactly what he had to do, and he remained in control the entire time. Rickie, on the other hand, had no idea what he was going to do and where that was going to take her. She was placing herself in his hands.

Her courage in the face of incredible vulnerability humbled him. He would go to any lengths to see this through and do her proud. “Then lie down on your stomach, Mrs. Caldwell, and give yourself over to the experience of a lifetime.”

Erica quelled the almost overwhelming instinct to leap off the table and run screaming into the dark night. Jamie wanted to set her on fire and he actually believed she’d enjoy it. Was he crazy or was she? Definitely her. She was crazy in love with her husband. That was the only possible explanation for her willingness to humor him. She had to trust that Jamie really knew what he was doing.

Swallowing her fear, she stretched out on the table, and Jamie tightened the bun she’d made with her hair.

“I want you to close your eyes and breathe deeply.” His hands began massaging her back, kneading the tense spots below her shoulder blades. He moved down her body, tapping his fingers on either side of her spine. “In. Hold. Out,” he instructed her, his voice low and soothing. He made wide sweeping motions over her bottom, her legs, and her feet, before returning to her back. The friction from his hands rubbing her skin made her moan.

“One of the key ways to ensure you don’t feel any pain is to release endorphins into your system.” His hand smacked her bottom in a series of short, sharp slaps.

The shock had her gasping and clenching her fists. Just when it was starting to sting, he stopped and rubbed her cheeks, his touch whisper light. “The side benefit of endorphins is that they allow you to experience greater pleasure.”