Page 82 of Five Days of Christmas Spice

Droplets of wax fall like a warm rain, competing with the hum.

The intense and pleasurable sensations pull my head in different ways.

I feel the wax brush my skin in wider arcs, and the vibe increases its rhythm.

A bead of wax lands on an uncovered spot on my nipple. At the same time, the vibrator roars to life at the strongest setting.

I am so lost.

Floating above the table, above this exquisite dungeon, the orgasm rips through my body as my muscles contort in pleasure.

Tears are falling down my cheeks. The loud panting belongs to me.

The vibrator is pulled away from my body, and I feel empty.

But not for long because Noel’s fingers are on my clit.

“Give me another one, Holly.”

I try to turn on the table in protest, but the wax feels like its own bondage, holding me in place.

“Yes, you can.” The gentle command in his voice creates space in my body. His thumb presses down on my clit.

It’s too much.

The press of his thumb, the rock of his fingers, I can’t help but give away to what he wants my body to do.

I shriek because the explosive pressure is almost painful.

“Good girl, Holly. That’s exactly what I want.”

The orgasm sails me further over the crest, parting me from my own control.

“Please, oh please, Noel.” I don’t know what I’m saying, but I keep saying things lost in this scene Noel created.

He swipes away my tears so gently his touch makes me want to cry in a different way. It brushes by the wound I’ve worked so hard to ignore, that wound of not being wanted. Not by my father or my ex-Dom, who took it too far and didn’t listen to my safeword, to freaking Phil dumping me right before Christmas, when he knew that was a vulnerable time for me.

“Holly, I’m here.” The blindfold comes off me. I blink, adjusting to the light. Noel’s face is close to mine, his dark gaze steadying me.

“Are you okay?” Noel traces a finger along my eyebrow.

I swallow. Exhale. Feel like I’m coming back to myself. “I am because you are here.”

“I’m not leaving.” Noel kisses me so tenderly I want to cry again. “Are you okay to continue?”

“Yes!” I want to see this through and push my jumbled emotions aside.

“Now it’s time to clean you up.” Noel grins, holding a credit card.

“I’ll try to be still.”

“Do that.”

The first scrape of the plastic card in the wax mound on my nipple brings me off the table. Noel laughs, setting me back in position.

“Not easy, is it?”

“I already got my orgasms.”

---