I waited for further instruction, unsure as to how I was supposed to ‘set the mood’. Thankfully, it came as he approached my side and took my lips in a moment of hot passion.
“Light some candles, sweetheart.”
His demand was soft and caring; a stark contrast from his usual tone. At first, I panicked, seeing no candles but soon relaxed when I spotted some already set up by the bed. Next to them was a packet of matches, making my life a lot easier. I quickly lit all three and noticed their soft state. At one point, they almost crumbled between my fingers but I managed to complete the task without burning the place down and upon doing so, turned back around to find Spencer holding up a bottle of what looked to be massage oil.
“Would you be so kind as to lie on the bed,” he smirked, taking this Valentine’s shebang way too seriously. “Naked.”
I paused what I was doing to remove my corset and did so with great difficulty. In the end, he had to help out. Soft fingers brushed past my exposed skin and ran down the curve of my back, teasingly so.
“You feel so beautiful,” he whispered, tugging on my earlobe using his teeth. “You’re perfect, Jessica.”
Being the centre of such compliments resulted in flushed cheeks and my confidence soaring. I loved this side of him. The side that never held back from his every thought. He was passionate and loving and at best, my everything.
“Colour?” he asked, helping me onto the bed and insisting I lie on my back.
“Green,” I replied, feeling the cool air nip at my bare breasts.
My pebbled peaks hardened as his hands made initial contact, warming my body from his touch alone. His thorough caress worked like magic over my muscles and by succumbing to such satisfying sensations, I was able to willingly close my eyes. Moan after moan slipped past my lips, encouraging my man with his wandering hands. Soon, oil became incorporated, intensifying my pleasure and rendering me just about useless.
“You’re so responsive, Jessica. Always so keen to impress.”
“Always.” I panted, gripping at the sheets.
His skilled hands moved lower until they dipped between my legs, pressing against my bundle of nerves. At first, I didn’t know how to respond. Everything was so heightened and extreme. His fingers felt brilliantly hot as they slipped further into my core, giving me no option but to gasp. I clawed at the bed and wriggled around on the sheets, so sure I would be punished for displaying signs of desperation. But it never came. If anything, he encouraged my vocal response, even going as far as to welcome it. His spare hand circulated my breasts and the other, my clit.
“Spencer, I think- Can I-?”
“No, baby. Not yet. Stay with me.”
His need to deny me was serious but that didn’t stop him from continuing. He still proceeded to touch me, yet somehow expected me to hold it all in.
“I’m going to try something new and I’ll need you to stay relaxed,” he explained, piquing my interests. “Open your eyes for me, bella.”
I instantly obeyed and struggled to adjust to my new surroundings. The lights were low, yet still bright enough to blind me in the process.
“Look over towards the door. Do you see a fire extinguisher?”
Not what I was expecting…
He lightly slapped my bottom.
Shit! “Yes, sir.”
His smirk was unavoidable. “Good. You know how to use one, yes?”
“In the instance one is needed, you will need to take responsibility. Understood?”
What the fuck was he planning?
“Understood,” I replied, more than a little curious.
I settled back into my position with the firm instruction of his hand and watched as he prepared the oil. On went a thin layer over my chest and thighs, relaxing me further into the bed. At first, it felt cold but I soon warmed up when, once again, his hands became involved. He thoroughly rubbed the oil into my skin and planted soft kisses around my body, never once stopping for air. Then, completely calm and full of confidence, he rubbed a tiny amount into his forearm and did the unthinkable. Picking up the candle, he proceeded to shoot me a cheeky grin and dripped hot wax onto himself. Just enough to test out the temperature.
My concerned tone was met with a soothing, “Shhh” and a gentle caress of my hair. “It’s okay. It doesn’t burn,” he ensured, easing my mind some. “Much.”
I continued to stare as the wax seemingly cooled and turned to solid mush. His face didn’t resemble pain and the surrounding area on his arm didn’t indicate towards a burn taking place.
“This candle is made of soy. It melts at roughly 54 degrees.”
His explanation was informative and for that, I was grateful. I always preferred to be in control of my surroundings. Even when Spencer was the one calling the shots, I liked to be made aware. Most of the time, the element of surprise was not enjoyable in the slightest.
“It may sting a little but it will not burn you. I will not hurt you, Jessica.”
“Okay,” I whispered, fully preparing myself. “I trust you.”
At this, he smiled. “You have your safe word.”
“Yes,” I agreed, repeating them back for good measure. “Red, amber, green.”
“Good girl.” Came his response, thrilling me in ways that used to disturb me but not anymore.
I was no longer ashamed of my preferred tastes.
Patiently, I waited. The expectation of what was to come was almost too much. I both wanted it and didn’t want it. My thoughts were conflicting and when Spencer finally did hold the candle over my stomach, I held my breath. It felt like an eternity before I felt the hot drips land on my skin. I jerked at first, a little surprised by the sensation but soon mellowed when his entire hand covered the area, sending heat throughout my entire being.
My back arched on its own accord and my throat let slip a sound resembling that of pure bliss. It was a pleasant feeling but what I found I loved most about it was that Spencer was the one inflicting such a thing. Everything this man did to me was always with my best interests at heart. He lived for our pleasure and no doubt found pleasing me pleased him. I knew it was certainly that way for me. If he was happy, I was happy. If he was experiencing pleasure, I was experiencing pleasure. We were in sync. Joined. Linked.
“Colour?” he asked, gently caressing my hair.
“Green,” I replied, confidently.
His reassuring smile made my insides clench, loving that feeling of fulfilment.
More came in the form of four drips, only this time to my inner thigh. The skin there felt extremely heightened and Spencer’s need to kiss me afterwards was every inch the blessing. He kissed his way up my entire leg, past my stomach and ending at the swell of my chest. He took it upon himself to latch onto my nipple and whilst sucking one into his warm mouth, he teased the other with his fingers. I thrusted my hips up in a bid to initiate relief but was met with nothing as my hips collided with thin air. I needed his touch more than anything but knew if I asked, I’d be denied it for longer.
“You like this, don’t you, bellissima?” he asked, dripping more wax onto my boobs.
“Yes, sir!” I replied, clutching the sheets as he went on to work his fingers over the waxed area.
The heat of the solution mixed with the heat of his hands was indescribable. It was almost as if the candle was symbolic of pain but with his touch never far away, I was promised pleasure. It hurt–there was no doubt about it–but in a good way. The sting reminded me that I was alive and experiencing things I never thought possible. The arrival of his immediate touch was as much protective as it was sensual and I could honestly see myself doing this for hours on end. If only my desperation for him would allow for it.
“Talk to me, my love. What colour are you?”
“Green, Spencer!” I cried, reaching out for his jaw. “I love you.”
My emotional state was teetering on the edge and I was so overcome with love that I feared a breakdown was surfacing. This past few weeks had been hard for me and Spencer of all people understood that. Not only had I been forced to relive my past, I had been blackmailed into leaving Spencer and thrown into the depths of grief when losing Mum. Often, I convinced myself I could handle things when that wasn’t always the case. I thought being away from Spencer was the answer. I thought six months to a year was nothing but I was wrong. So wrong. Two weeks was hell without my man and with everything else on top, I hit rock bottom. Physically, I was fine but emotionally, I was damaged. I still hurt from the loss of Mum but day by day, I was getting better. Because of him. Spencer. He looked after me, fed me and most importantly, held me when it all became too much. He checked in on Dad when I was at work. He included Sam in his plans whenever I expressed my worry for him. He would talk about my mum as though he wanted to know more about her but most of all, he never judged. He took me for exactly who I was and continued to love me despite my flaws. Despite my mistakes.
His soft tone forced comfort into my body, stifling all urges to cry for the time being. I reached up to caress his cheeks and whispered my plea across his face.
“Are you ready for your second gift, sir?”
His eyes were sincere and full of love, staring down at me as though I was the answer to all of his prayers.
“Second gift?” He was surprised.
I attempted to sit up, managing it by resting on my elbows.
“Can you see me?”
His brief frown was his answer.
“No,” he whispered, stripping off his few layers. “But I can feel you.”
He quickly blew out the candles and joined me on the bed, blanketing my body with his own. His hands ran the length of my legs, feeling my every last inch.
“What’s this second gift then?”
“Well…” I began, gently caressing his cheeks. “You’re the one who said your first time should be special.”
“Yet, neither of us had that. Our first time with other people wasn’t special.”
He offered me confusion in return. “I’m not following.”
“How about we have our first time again? Only this time, it will be special.”
He let slip a small laugh. “You want to lose your virginity again?”
“Yes,” I nodded. “With you.”
His smiled faded into seriousness and with no words uttered, he proceeded to enter me with slick precision.
“I’ll be gentle, I promise,” he whispered, instantly morphing into his part for the scene. “Tell me if it’s too much for your tightness.”
“You are rather big!” I replied, attempting innocence with my high pitched tone. “You may even break me?”
“Oh, I fully intend to,” he smirked, suddenly unsure of himself. “Although, I’m new at this too. Perhaps we should take things slowly for our first time.”
The way he said ‘first’ made me smile. He put emphasis on the word and pushed further into me; our low moans counteracting each other. They each bounced from wall to wall, mimicking our passionate embrace and soon, we required no play for the moment. We simply slipped back into our everyday selves, making love the way we both wanted to. His movements were slow but with purpose, whereas mine were relaxed and poised. I kissed him feverishly and blew the occasional, “I love you” out, needing the words out there, as if somehow saying them made him stronger. I wanted this man to achieve brilliant things in life and had no doubt he would. He was a wonderful dad. One day, we’d have kids of our own and they’d grow up to love their daddy for all that he does, despite being blind.
“Ti amo, Jessica,” he whispered, thrusting into me with one final flick of his hips.
His angling was perfect and saw me dive headfirst into my climax, masked by the sounds of his own taking over. Together, we flew from the high we’d given each other and came down just as happy. Sweat covered and extremely exhausted, Spencer smiled down at my panting form and kissed my face all over.
“Mio per sempre.”
Note to self: learn Italian.