Read Safeword: Davenport for Free Online Page B

at the sight, and she was both frustrated and comforted when her bonds held firm.
    She groaned as Zach reached for another piece of ice, her apprehension growing as his tongue snaked around the corners, rounding them, while his eyes dared her to look away.
    She tried to withdraw into the table as his hand moved towards her pussy, cold touching the outside of her lips, running up and down the right side a dozen times, then the left. The fingers of his other hand spread her open, giving him room to swirl the ice in circles around her clit.
    She sucked air into her lungs, wanting it to stop, needing it to continue—her passions blazed beyond lust and she didn't know what to yearn for. It didn't matter, she was tied down and at his mercy, experiencing only what he chose to give her.
    The circling stopped and the cold stayed on the left side for several heartbeats before moving to the right. Freezing it. Right side, left side, right, left. Top.
    She screamed, her voice filling the room, spreading out into the darkness. It was too much; she couldn't... the intensity slid away from her clit and into her depths, freezing her inside. Her eyes opened to his hand dipping the ladle, and seconds later hot wax poured onto her clit and she howled in silence as an orgasm claimed her breath as well as her body, rocking her insides since her outsides were bound motionless.
    Biting ice was followed by liquid fire, surrounding and encasing. The pain drew her under, taking over her senses, allowing her to sink beneath the soft luxury of it. Her lower body jerked in the bindings, her hands moved the few inches allowed, and her stomach muscles writhed as they battled the enforced immobility. She screamed at the pleasure and torment and overwhelming sensations, the orgasm fighting her restraints as it rolled through her body.
    When the room was finally quiet, so all she could hear was the sound of her ragged breathing, she opened her eyes to see Zach standing patiently, watching over her.
    "Touch me, please? Hold my hand?"
    His gentle strength anchored her, and when he saw her relax, he caressed the skin between her thumb and forefinger. “I love your responsiveness. Are you finished, or would you like more?"
    "More, please, Sir."
    She lost track of time as her world became a blur of lava and ice, and a dozen mini orgasms. He encased her nipples and clit, pulled the cooled wax off, and did it again. Her torso reminded her of graffiti, with stripes, dots, and shapes in a myriad of colors. He piled the viscous paraffin, building a wall on the side of her breast, and propped ice on it before surrounding it in molten wax. He did the same at her clit, encasing multiple frozen cubes on either side. He stuffed her pussy with penetrating cold and blocked the entrance with a barricade of heat. Hot and cold became nothing but sensation—the pleasure and pain merging until she couldn't tell the difference.
    Dana was floating through the sensations when she felt him breaking large pieces off. He'd done so before only to melt it and pour it on again, swapping crock-pots when necessary. This was different, as she realized he was removing all of it.
    The air around her came alive, tickling her senses, moving over and around her skin.
    Still drifting, she heard and felt her left wrist cuff being disconnected. She wasn't ready for this to end, didn't want released, but she stayed quiet, waited to see what he'd do next.
    She breathed a sigh of relief when he bound her hands to the upper corners of the table. The strap around her upper chest was unfastened, and the towel was no longer under her head, though she didn't remember losing it. He manipulated her like a rag doll, situating her feet just below her ass and binding her into basic missionary position, forcing her knees towards the corners of the room by stretching the rope tight between thigh cuffs and table anchor. For good measure, he ran a wide band around her legs and tied it off to the anchor points,