The Candlemaker (Kinkades #3)

Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Chandler

“Burn me again.”

Using my hand around her wrist, I hauled her against me and kissed her like I’d been starved of her for the whole of my thirty-six years. Her plea ripped the buttons of my restraint, and I bruised her smart, soft mouth with my own.

This was insane. I was insane. The way I felt about her was driving me insane. But I didn’t care. I’d go mad if that was the price of one night with her. Or maybe that was the very definition of my madness.

“On the bed,” I growled into her mouth. “Hands above your head.”

I gave her a little push, watching her backpedal until her legs bumped the inflated mattress and she lowered onto the blankets, her gaze never leaving mine as she tipped back.

Fuck.

Hot air hissed through my lips, and I couldn’t help but stare. It wasn’t restraint that paralyzed me, it was reverence. Frankie was fucking gorgeous. Her damp hair clung to her chest like hot honey, the ends sticking to the swells of her breasts. She looked like a damn siren captured straight from the sea, begging for a taste of my world.

I kneeled onto the bed next to her, watching her pink tongue dart out over her lips as her gaze shifted to my cock. The damn thing was right at mouth level for her, the end dripping with how fucking bad I wanted her. My jaw locked. It would be so easy to give it to her. To feed her my swollen length until she choked. But that would be the end of me. A tidal wave of accelerant onto an already uncontrolled wildfire.

“Eyes on me,” I rasped, waiting for her stare to lift before I held the candle over her, high enough so it wouldn’t truly burn her.

“Show me,” she begged softly, her back bowing with how bad she wanted it.

A growl scratched its way from my chest as I slowly tipped the candle. Her breath hitched just as the wax fell, and time suspended just like the molten heat for a second as our eyes connected. There was no going back. No undoing. No unmelting the wax or unlighting the flame.

There was no undoing us.

The wax splattered on her sternum, and time galloped forward again, leading to her sharp gasp at the sensation. My eyes locked on my first mark, watching her skin redden around it, and the force of my groan shook my grip on the candle.

“Beautiful,” I murmured, losing the last threads of my sanity at the sight of her. The dark honey of her hair. The cinnamon peaks of her nipples. The flush of goose bumps across her skin. Desire chewed through my veins like a starving beast. If I wasn’t careful, the next thing that dripped on her would be cum from my painfully hard dick.

“Chandler… ”

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes,” she breathed out the word.

I lowered my head slowly, watching her stomach tremble as I got close and blew on the wax to temper it.“Do you like it?”

“Yes.” She arched as she answered, and my body quaked at her responsiveness.

“I see it,” I rumbled. “How flushed you are. How hard your nipples are.” My eyes flicked to the bare skin of her pussy, and I started to salivate. “I wonder how wet it made you…how wet it will make you when I drip this on your tits.”

“Stop wondering and find out,” she dared, and my jaw locked tighter, so fucking tempted to obey.

“Soon,” I promised, holding the candle above her again, but this time so thewax fell onto the slope of her left breast.

The sound she made—a gasp that melted into a moan—made my cock jerk. She was fucking perfect for this. All pale skin and unabashed desire. Her back bowed into the burn, her nipples pebbled so fucking tight, all I wanted was to sink my teeth into them.

“So fucking perfect,” I muttered, letting the wax run closer to the peak before I lowered my head and stopped it with my breath.

With my lips hovering just above her skin, I saw every tremor and tremble of her flesh. Every goose bump and hungry beat of her pulse. And it was all for me. I pushed my fingers into the soft heat of the wax, dragging around the slope of her tit. I painted her skin with the warmth, watching it pebble and pink—watching her tremble and come undone.

“Chandler, please,” she whimpered, and, in my periphery, I caught how her thighs rubbed together. And that was how I missed her hand reaching for my head. I hissed when her fingers curled into my hair and pulled my head toward her.

I gritted my teeth for a fraction of a second, but I couldn’t resist. Not anymore. I cupped the weight of her breast, feeling the wax mold it to my palm as I fed the tight bud of her nipple to my mouth.

“ Fuck ,” I growled as my teeth hooked her soft flesh first, giving her that bite of pain before I pulled the soft bud between my lips. My deep groan came straight from the marrow of my bones. She tasted like cinnamon—or maybe it was the wax so close that my brain conflated scent with taste. Whatever it was, I couldn’t get enough.

“ Yes ,” she whimpered and writhed under me when I sucked hard, her hand clutching me tighter, not wanting me to stop.

Every stroke and flick of my tongue made her wild. I slid my hand to her other breast, pinching and teasing it with my fingers to mimic the movement of my mouth. She twisted underneath me, and there was part of me that knew I could make her come like this—knew I could come like this. Just from touching her—tasting her if I didn’t stop now.

Her nipple popped from my lips, and I dragged myself away. “Another time I’ll feast on every inch of you,” I promised, like having more than this night—more than this inn was even a possibility. Isat back on my thighs, my palm grazing across the trembling softness of her stomach, resting there for a beat. “Arms above your head,” I reminded her and sat still until her hand that had slid onto my forearm lifted and returned above her head.

“I want to touch you.” Her eyes flicked down to my cock.

My jaw hardened, and I lifted the candle over her chest. “Not tonight.” I dripped more wax onto her chest, the pain putting an end to that thought. I glanced down at my cock and let out a tight breath. Fuck. The swollen, red length confirmed that I wouldn’t survive her touch.

My focus returned to Frankie, sinking two fingers into the hot pool of wax and dragging it in a spiral around her breast all the way to her nipple.

“God, I love the color this turns your skin,” I rumbled, watching the heat char her skin to crimson.

“ Please .” She writhed and twisted around the word like a fire stoked to life by my touch.

As much as I wanted to torture her, it was too much torture for me. I wanted her so damn bad.

“Let’s see how wet you are, my little flame,” I rasped and poured another stream of wax—the last of what was stored around the wick—from her sternum onto her stomach.

The sounds she made as she quivered went straight to my dick, the damn thing throbbing so fucking painfully I was starting to not see straight. But I ignored it as I wiped my fingers on the blanket and reached between her legs.

Our gazes locked. Hers was pulsing like twin golden embers. And mine, well, I was sure I looked like an animal. I wanted to see that look of surprise on her face when I made her come—the look no one else gave her. Fitting because I was going to give her an orgasm unlike anyone else either.

“Let’s see how well you melted for me,” I rasped and moved my hand higher up her thigh, watching the way her breath caught and her eyes flitted a little wider, and then the way that perfect mouth of her parted with relief when I slid my fingers through the seam of her pussy.

“ Fuck …” She was so damn wet. Molten and wet and mine.

“Chandler,” she moaned and arched into my touch.

The heat of the wax was nothing compared to the heat of her cunt. I didn’t even recognize the sound that escaped my lips as I pushed my fingers inside her, my thumb rolling over her clit.

“You burn so good for me, my little flame.” I didn’t know where the endearment kept coming from, but I wouldn’t take it back even if I could. Not when she looked at me like she did—not when her body responded like it did.

I worked my fingers inside her, sliding in and out like her pussy was a damn instrument I played to hear the melody of her moans.

“Yes.” She bucked when I found her G-spot, her body becoming putty to my fingers. Before long, she was nothing more than trembling muscles and a frantic heartbeat, chasing the release my touch promised. “Please, Chandler…”Her head thrashed, her fists curling into the blanket above her head.

My breaths turned labored, watching how fucking beautiful she looked as pleasure unraveled her tight control.

She could fool everyone else, but she couldn’t fool me. Frankie was all fun and games for everyone but herself. When it came to her own life, it was business, business, and more business. When you spent almost ninety-six hours straight with a person, there wasn’t a chance to hide faults—to hide much of anything. And I wasn’t sure Frankie would’ve even tried to hide that she was married to her candles. It was an admirable quality right up until my lips first tasted hers.

Then it became a challenge.

A challenge to bend my rules for the sole success of breaking hers.

She started to tense, her body quivering around my fingers. She was so fucking close, one thrust of my cock would send her over the edge. But I wanted more. This woman didn’t need anything from anyone, but so help me God, I wanted her to need me. Desperately. More than independence. More than oxygen. More than anything.

So, I stroked her inner wall, coaxed her orgasm right to the edge—right to where her jaw dropped and her eyes squeezed shut—and then I stilled my fingers and tipped the candle in my other hand, scorching the edge of her pleasure with another drip of hot wax low on her stomach.

“Chandler!” She bucked, her eyes snapping wide.

Her body jerked, the searing pain pulling her back from the edge of release. Her wide gaze swirled with shock and pleasure and pain, her chest heaving to try and catch her unsteady breaths.

A slow smile dragged at my lips. “Again.”

Her mouth parted, and she choked out, “I can’t—” She broke off with a moan as I rubbed her clit, the tight, aching bud so fucking desperate for release. “Chandler…”

“I thought you said you could handle the burn, my little flame,” I growled, starting to pump my fingers inside her again. Now my cock was leaking steadily, knowing how fucking prepared she was going to be for me. How tight and desperate she would be.

She moaned and her thighs drifted apart, her body answering before her voice did, “I can.”

“Good girl,” I rasped, and I stroked her clit like I was fanning the most delicate flame. The sound of her slick heat taking the thrust of my fingers consumed me, my next words coming out raw and rough and absolutely fucking feral. “Because you only get my cock when you come through the pain.”

Frankie shuddered, a rush of heat drenching my fingers.

“That’s it,” I growled, pumping my fingers faster and lifting the candle over her trembling stomach, watching and waiting for enough liquid wax to form.

The sounds she made started to blend together. Started to crack and fracture the way everything comes apart inside a fire. Her body tightened. Pleasure eatingaway everything but instinct.

“Please,” she begged me—begged herself .

Gritting my teeth, I curled my fingers into her front wall at the same time as my thumb pressed the tight button of her clit. She bowed, her chest pinched in one last breath, teetering on the brink of release.

And I let the wax fall.

This time, the hot splash on her stomach didn’t reel her back from her orgasm but sent her shooting over the edge.

She screamed, coming so hard against my fingers she made my whole arm shake.

“Fuck.” I blew out the candle and tossed it off the mattress. She was going to be the death of me. I grabbed her hips, replaced my fingers with the head of my cock, and buried myself inside her with one hard thrust.

There was no going slow. It was her muscles that pulled me deeper, her body that clutched me tighter. I watched my cock spread her tight pussy beautifully wide. Felt her legs wrap around my waist as she met me thrust for thrust.

My head tipped back, pleasure chewing through my veins like a beast with fangs.

I drove into her with hard, unyielding thrusts, and she took every thick inch of my cock like it was what she was made for.

“ Chandler.” She panted. Begged. Choked and gasped. If she was new to wax play, it was a damn safe bet she was new to stacking orgasms. But not for long.

I drove into her with long, sure thrusts, watching pleasure fight pleasureuntil my own threatened to knock me out.

“Chandler…” Her hips bounced. Churned.

“Burn for me,” I ordered roughly. “Burn for me, my little flame.”

Her nails dug into my forearms, her pussy squeezing so fucking tight that I stopped breathing. Stopped thinking. Stopped everything except fucking her until she screamed my name again .

She came like wildfire around me. Hot and unstoppable, her orgasm absolutely destroyed me.

“ Fuck ,” I swore. The ripple of her tight cunt was too fucking much, and I lost it.

I slammed into her hard and fast, the thrash of her climax igniting the pressure at the base of my spine. I knew nothing but the need to come, and I took it.

My cock swelled. Stretched. And then erupted. I came with a loud roar that shook everything from my bones to the bones of the old inn as I held myself buried inside her, filling her with jet after jet of thick release.

We clung to each other like neither of us had experienced anything like that before. And neither of us were willing to admit it out loud.

What happened after, I only processed in pieces. Kissing her gently. Cleaning us up. Pulling her close. Her slow, rhythmic breaths as she slept. And the words “ my little flame” murmured as I pressed my lips to the top of her head, knowing I’d never be the same.