The House of Flame Lilies Ch. 07

As he melted into the kiss, he was suddenly pierced in the shoulder blade by an angry dagger of pure heat. He squealed and threw himself forward to hide in her forest of hair. The pain subsided quickly, replaced by a strange, tight, gummy sensation. He searched like a scurrying mouse in his mind for what the feeling could have been. He remembered knocking a candle onto his hand as a boy. She was pouring hot wax over him. "M... Mistress?" he stammered uncertainly.

"What is it, my treasure?"

What was it? What if it hurt him? What if it damaged his skin? What if he couldn't take it and it was all over?

What if he was brave enough?

He pressed a devoted kiss to her shoulder. "More, please."

She hummed luxuriantly and curled one hand into his hair, holding him to her, holding him up. He held his breath. Another hail of scalding droplets rained onto his back. He hissed and coughed. She teased the roots of his hair reassuringly. She spilled the candle again. Lancing pain skewered him, biting harder than her fangs, no sweet ache to offset the blade keenness and the white heat. Sparrow trembled and ploughed his energy into breathing, into not speaking, not crying out, not resisting. His animal instincts wanted to tear him away, to plunge into a river and swim for his life in soothing waters. But something deeper, something ancient, overpowered them. He took his urge to flee and wrestled it into his need for her. Every lightning strike of pain flung him towards her. He clung to her with his mouth and senses, hunched into the shield of her body, and took the carving heat with gritted teeth and a resolute heart.

She shushed him softly and caressed his head, even as she poured pain onto his youthful skin. "Oh, my wonder, my excellent man, my Sparrow. You're doing so well. So, so well, Carissime."

He whined, eyes pricking behind the mask, tears seeping into the satin.

She took a breath and her torso rose to his body and filled him with the feeling of softness. "This is not just about trusting me. This is about trusting yourself. See how strong you are. How brave you are. I'll bet none of those short-sighted fools where you came from would have known how much you could take, how much you could do. They thought that the mountain could end you? Look at you. So powerful that the Queen of the Mountain herself desires you. The cold could not break you, and nor can the heat. You have the most extraordinary body, my treasure. You have the most extraordinary heart."

The tears went from a prickle to a swell, from pain to joy. Sparrow took a shuddering breath and let out a deep sob. He felt something lifting from him, even under her weight he felt light. She cast the boiling wax down another stripe of his back. The sensation turned warm, tantalising. He moaned and arched his spine to take it again. She gave it to him. She drizzled him in piercing heat. From needles on his skin, it began to feel like syrup in his muscles. Warmth enveloped him and sank to his core. All the warmth he'd found here welled inside him. He flexed and sighed. He crumpled, senses spinning in the darkness, his mouth sliding from her shoulder to her breast. He nuzzled the softness and kissed it ardently. "Why doesn't it hurt properly when it's you?" he mumbled.

He heard the quiet thunk of the candle being laid down. The hot cloak over his back hardened to a crust that made him feel he was being moulded out of clay. She folded him into her arms. "Because you know I would never hurt you, Carissime. Your body knows it."

"I want to put my arms around you."

"I know."

"I want to see you and hold you and touch you and..."

"Hush, hush." She cradled him and squeezed his waist between her thighs. "Be patient for me, Little One."

She rocked back and brought him into a quelling kiss. He mewled into it and crushed to her lips helplessly. The darkness was encapsulating. He gloried in the taste of her mouth, images of her cascading on the inside of black satin. They whirled so fast that when she drew away he almost toppled. He gasped and ground his knees on the rug, burning gently.

She took longer to return to him this time. He knelt in the hollow of his bondage and his blindness and the passing moments took bites out of him. He strained his ears. She moved like smoke, but every now and then he caught a subtle sound that told him she was still there. He moved his wrists softly, the grazing of the rope comforting, grounding, tantalising. The slight scent of honey leaked into the air. He moved his tongue in his mouth. The hearth warmth washed over him, easing the ache from his long while trussed. He breathed slowly. He let himself drift. The overlapping sensations lingered in his body, more than pleasure, a whisper that something was changing, that tonight was a rebirth. He craved it.

The sound of snicking ribbon and rippling silk scampered up his spine. His mind filled with the picture of her gown falling away.

Her fingernails glided across his back, drawing a tender blush to the surface as the dried wax flaked away like shedding feathers. He pressed his lips together, brow creasing in anticipation of her nearness. The satin tugged against his eyes, and wilted away. Sparrow's vision blazed gold, singeing his pupils. He blinked and adjusted to the light. The wash of gold slowly cleared into dozens of twinkling details. His mouth dropped open in a touched, awed smile. She had filled the room with candles, towering in stands as tall as him and gathered like stalagmites on the dark surfaces. They littered the window seat, veiling the mountain night sky in gold. Gold pooled like oil on polished mahogany and glimmered into the depths of the shadows. It swirled on metal and winked on crystal. It soaked into the lush coverings on the canopied bed, calling to Sparrow's tested body. The honey scent from melting beeswax teased Sparrow's tongue. The dozens of flames twinkled like watching eyes, like spirits gathered to bless a ritual.

A tug on the rope strummed his nerves. His cock had softened as he endured the pain. With the loosening of the restraints, it thickened and tingled, excitement coursing into his blood. His wrists and ankles were freed and he tipped onto his hip to uncurl his legs. He rotated his wrists and shoulders, resettling his warped limbs. Her hand floated down over his shoulder, palm up for him to take. His cock pulsed. He laid his hand delicately in hers and let her lift him to his feet and turn him around, their other hands drifting together. He saw her at last, statuesque and naked but for the constellation of her diamond necklace, stars around the moon. She appeared as a vision, the golden shimmer shrouding her, setting her into amber, running down the coils of her glossy hair and painting her smooth skin in a glow like cooking ginger. Her inferno eyes wheeled with carnelian light. Sparrow gazed mesmerised at her other-worldly beauty, the inhumanness of her dawning on him in full. She looked carved from pure light and shadow, ethereal and impossible. She looked solid as stone and supple as yew, grotesque in her extreme grace, enchanting and base, a hundred contradictions that could only be housed in someone ancient and eternal.

She smiled at him, the gold filling her mouth and gushing into his blood. She stroked her thumbs over his hands and led him towards the bed. He walked dumbly, falling into a dreamy step as if they were dancing to some faery flute. The shadow of the canopy tinted her gilded body in red jasper. She lowered him to sit on the bed, gazing up into the blaze of her eyes in the mask of darkness. "Make yourself pleasurable for me, Carissime."

Sparrow's heart kicked. He nodded eagerly and spread his legs. His cock was thrumming even before he touched it. He curled his hand around it and worked himself hard again, his desire rocketing as his ravenous eyes were finally satiated by the sight of her. His gaze roved around her body, familiar and new, fresh wonder in each detail of her beauty - the garnet points of her nipples, the split, swollen cherry of her vulva, the way the glow moved on her curves and painted her full lips. She looked deliberate, she looked natural. He palmed his tip and made a pathetic sound as his eyes glazed over and quickly startled sharp again, not to miss a single element of her perfection.

"Mmmm..." Her smile spread into a scheming grin. She stroked her fingernails down his torso. "I am glad you came back to me, Sparrow. How I would have missed this body."

He bit his lip, breathless with hope. "Really?"

Her blade touch skated to his nipple, pinched, and twisted, shooting pleasure into him. "Oh, horribly so. I have been living and fucking for more than a thousand years and there is something truly special in the pleasure you give me. There is a delicious darkness in you."

Sparrow shrank back.

She leaned with him and circled her fingertip on the glistening head of his cock, stopping his breath. "It's the flavour of your willingness."

He swallowed, tremors seizing his arms and vibrating on his cock in his grip. "I don't know what to say to that."

"Say, 'Thank you, Mistress.'"

"Thank you, Mistress."

The end of his speech was subsumed by a devouring kiss. He flung his arms around her neck and moaned into her mouth, begging her for everything with the body he couldn't believe she treasured. He soared on the knowledge, pulled her close to kiss her over and over and make it truer and truer. She smiled against his lips, gently unhooked his arms, and eased away from him, stepping to stand astride his lap, scratching playfully at his clean jaw, just near enough to his wound to make it prickle. She tenderly swept his long, flaxen hair down his back and moved to massage his shoulders, the pressure oozing down his muscles. He stroked her thighs and hips and waist, meticulously relearning the feel of her with all his new understanding.

She sucked her lip and let it bloom crimson. "Now, Carissime, are you ready to make your vows? To seal your fate with me?"

Sparrow took a deep breath, his stomach fluttering. This was it. "Yes."

She closed her hands on him. "You swear? Because after this ritual, there will be no going back. You will be mine, utterly and irrevocably."

He squared his shoulders, so she could feel him steel himself. There was still so much he didn't understand, so much to be afraid of, but in this moment he knew one thing with every shred of his soul. "I am yours already." He bowed his head and kissed the scoop of her belly. "Let me vow."

She hummed, the sound caressed him, made him swell with pride and lust. She took his hands from pawing her hips and cupped them between hers, cooling in the close heat. She hooked his eyes hypnotically with hers and spoke in a voice like bubbling rosewater. "Sparrow, my own, I bind you to my house. This is your place. Your place is with me. My bed is your sanctuary. My table is your abundance. You grow in my ground."

Sparrow forced his catching breath quiet, he wanted no sound but the lilting of her spell. She squeezed his hands. He glanced down at them and saw with a flicker of curiosity that a fine stain was winding around his wrists, as if an invisible quill was inking a rosy vine pattern onto his skin. He looked back up at her wide-eyed.

She was grinning. "I bind your hands. You act for me. You craft for me."

He blushed and smiled and nodded. She guided his hands between her legs.

"Oh... Mistress... Thank you..." Sparrow sighed and sank his fingers gratefully into her flesh. He slumped, relaxing into the relief of touching her at last. He wormed his fingers into her folds, searching for the moment when she...

"Oh!"

That moment, when she threw back her lustrous hair and snarled and snaked her spine. He groaned and shivered and tensed his core to feel the beating of his cock in his abdomen. He spread her labia and pressed his thumbs to her gleaming clit, peach and strawberry in the gold light. Her scent wended to his nose and mouth, saliva springing over his rising tongue. It drew him forward, tranced.

She stopped him with a finger to his lips. "Not yet, Passer. This part is about your hands. Make me come with those clever fingers and show me they serve my pleasure."

Sparrow nodded, sucking back the drool. His eyes darted to the shining swell of her clit and he began to massage her adoringly with his thumbs, strumming over the nut of sensitivity, her shudders avalanching into him. He summoned all his dexterity, like he was a small god moulding rivers into the mountain. He traced the electric lines of her nerves, braiding a sparking web of sensation around her. The candlelight trickled into her flesh and made her wetness shine, turned her arousal dazzling. He slipped his fingers back and forth in a smooth crescent, trailing pleasure from her peak to her seam, watching her swell and redden, scenting the thicket of dark curls. He softly rolled her clit between finger and thumb like marzipan. He pinched her labia gently between his knuckles and pushed his hand into the motions from the bucks of her hips. He cupped her warmly and circled the heel of his hand on her seat, catching droplets of her juices in his palm, like coins in a wishing well. Her thick thighs either side of his lap quivered with her jerks and the rocking of her hips. He dropped and caught the quivers between his teeth, softly nipping her and kissing her as he pleasured her. He kissed around her thighs and smothered himself in her belly, rushing hot, sighing and mewling at her rumbling moans of hunger. She chased his fingers with her clit, smearing his hands and spurring on his heated playing, like he was plucking a speedy dance on a violin.

She grasped his forearms suddenly and growled like a wolf. He whipped his face up to stare in burning awe as she stood tall and ecstatic, the golden light gushing over her as she spread her legs wider and revolved her hips. Her sumptuous figure writhed in pleasure. Her eyes were closed and her lips were parted, murmuring low, "Yes, yes, Sparrow... Mmmm, my miracle, you know so well how to touch me..."

Sparrow moaned. He gazed enthralled at her towering, twisting body and tossing hair. He deepened his touch. He carefully placed his trust in his instincts and found his fingers just anticipating her, slipping where she ground on them just before her motion, spreading and sliding and finding new patterns of pleasure that turned her writhing wilder, her hair cascading around her face so her eyes glared and her teeth glinted from darkness. It emboldened him. He bit his lip and sneaked one hand to her ass and squeezed. She chuckled and shimmied, the quiver filling his grasp. He blushed and grinned back. He held her gaze cautiously and crept his fingertip between her fat cheeks to tease her asshole. Her eyes flashed. She tilted forward so her breasts tempted his mouth and the twinkling diamond necklace starred his vision. She cupped one buttock with her hand and bunched it sideways to spread her entrance for him. Sparrow was hit by a lightning thrill. He pressed his fingertip to her rim and massaged it rhythmically. His other hand he spread to stroke her seam and thumb her clit. Vestalia arched her spine and snarled and moaned. It reverberated in his body.

"Yes?" he checked tentatively.

She beamed, an amber glimmer on her cheeks. "I think you know. Yes, yes, yes..." Her voice spectred away and her head lolled as he sent a powerful shiver of pleasure up her. Her ass cheeks trembled on his hand and her breasts bobbed near his mouth as he worked her. He ducked and took her nipple between his teeth, filling his mouth with her, sucking gluttonously as he rubbed her rhythmically, a little rougher, unravelling shudders from her and flickering his tongue over her rosehip-hard nipple.

"Oh, yes!" Her voice lightened, her breathing rapid. "That's it, like this!"

Sparrow hastened with her encouragement, teasing her asshole and her cunt and her clit and gobbling her breast, letting her avalanching shuddering submerge him. His cock pounded. His stomach burst in butterflies. His hands ached with work and weight. He felt magical, empowered, that these hands could craft such pleasure, that he could be this for such a being.

"Ah! Make me come!" Her fingernails stabbed his forearm.

He felt her pulsing, contracting. He moaned feverishly and tickled her asshole and circled his thumb pinpointed on the peak of her clit. She thrust into the pressure and, with a resounding moan, she erupted into a swarm of shudders that rattled his bones. He felt something locking inside of him, a certainty, a seal. He ached. He cupped her vulva to draw out her moans, licking the underside of her breast and making kitten sounds of dreamy pleasure at the force of her climax.

He was shocked out of it by her weight slamming into his lap. She sat astride him and scooped him into a claiming kiss. He melted into it and sighed. It was speedy at first, almost sharp, then as her convulsions eased became slow and sweet. The honey scent of the candles infused with her stirred musk. Sparrow breathed in the fragrance and entwined their tongues and sighed.

After a long moment, she pulled away, sucking his lip pink until the final moment. She cupped his face and looked brightly into his eyes. "Mmm, that was good. But I have so much desire left in me. Will you sate my desire, Carissime?"

"Yes, Mistress," he breathed urgently, running his hands over her soft, strong thighs. "Yes, yes..."

She smiled like a succubus. "Of course you will." Her hands fell to his shoulders and she pushed him back so he had to prop himself up on his palms behind him. She slid to kneel over him, her cunt hovering over the straining tip of his cock.

"Don't come, Passer," she whispered. "Stay hard for me, no matter how close you get."

He nodded wordlessly, staring at her looming over him.

She rolled her shoulders like a leopard and lowered her cunt to kiss his tip. His breath snagged in his throat. He bunched the bed covers in his fists. She snaked her hips and dragged her drenched vulva over his slick head, pleasuring herself on him like nothing but a toy. His flesh fizzed.

Once more, she began to speak in her high priestess tone, this time breathier, ever escaping a rough, musical moan. "I bind you to my body." She took his hands and laid them on her breasts as she kept up her grinding on his weeping tip, pressing his fingers so he gathered her flesh and squeezed. She guided his hands around her figure as she spoke, having him delight in grabbing at her fat, her belly, her thighs, ass, her breasts again, lifting and caressing them, warming them, kneading them softly. "This is your pleasure. I am your nourishment. I am your passion. My touch is your ecstacy. My appetite is your blessing. Your flesh and blood whispers to be near me."

Her wet cunt slathered his head in pleasure. The feel of squeezing her and stroking her, of being allowed such shameless, filthy greed, awoke gnawing cravings in his gut. He squirmed in his seat, pushing his cock deeper into her folds. They writhed together, touching fearlessly, gripping hard, shared beads of sweat threading together. Sparrow's need churned in his body, his gentle innocence splitting at the seams as his cock thickened and thrummed, his hips fidgeting, desperate to slide inside her, but adoring the torment. His pleasure surged.

She lifted from him and slid back to standing, grinning at his trembling, glistening body, his slack jaw. She held his eye with a mischievous gleam as she bent to put her hands on his knees, spread them wide, then sank to kneel between them. Sparrow rushed hot, but flashed with concern. He lunged for a pillow on the bed and held it out for her with eyes like a rabbit. She cocked her head and pouted with a mixture of humour and sweetness and blew him a little kiss. She took the pillow and slipped it under her knees. She moved like a cobra between his legs, her eyes swirling ruby and entrancing him. She ran her pointed fingernail up his shaft, glaring at him from behind a black lock of hair. "I bind your cock. You ache for me. You give to me."