Flames Untamed

by Alix Sharpe

  “What’s the second?”

  “Huh?” he said, blinking away the image in his head.

  “You said there’s two rules.”

  “Oh. Nevermind.”

  “What?” she said, laughing a little as she glanced over her shoulder. Guess the magic of massage calmed her down.

  “I was going to remind you of your rule that ‘nothing is mandatory here’.”

  “Okay…”

  “And then I was going to say you didn’t have to be in control here.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” she said, “It’s a good reminder.”

  “Well,” he said. A sudden bout of mild embarrassment sprang out of nowhere sending the corners of his mouth twitching back and forth between a nervous smile and a wince. “Then I was going to make another lame BDSM joke about you letting me tie you up and having my way with you.”

  What was wrong with him!? He never got nervous around women. Well, it could be because he never spent more than a few hours around any particular one. He never spent more than a few hours with anyone really. Being around himself for that long felt rough on most days.

  “You know,” she said, turning around, an amused grin firmly in place, “I think I might have missed the question on the recruitment exam where they ask: ‘do you enjoy experimenting in the bedroom? Yes = Salamander, No = continue exam’.”

  “Sorry,” he chuckled awkwardly, removing his hands from her shoulders. “It was a stupid joke, I—“

  “Kyle. I’m not judging. I would have checked yes.”

  Kyle stopped and stared at her, unsure what to say.

  “I started out as a Salamander, remember?” she said. “I must share some of their traits.”

  “Hah. Yeah. Us Salamanders all tend to get a little crazy between the sheets. Not sure why.” He grabbed his beer and shoved it to his lips just to stop himself from yapping.

  “I think,” she said, tilting her head sideways, “it’s because Salamanders just tend to be bolder. Everyone wants it, Salamanders just aren’t afraid to ask for it.”

  “That makes sense,” he said, instantly regretting it. That was his chance, where did his suave go? How was she doing this to him? He felt like that little boy again, holding that axe, covered in chicken blood, entirely transformed in a matter of seconds. Too scared to know what to do next. Chicken blood. Sexy. Even at the rate stupid shit was rolling off his tongue, at least he still had enough sense to decide he probably shouldn’t mention chicken blood.

  “Kyle,” she said, sliding her hand up his thigh. “I’m asking you for it. It’s been over a year since I got laid. You’ve been joking about sex since the second we met. I need this. So, are you going to tie me up? Or are you all talk?”

  Kyle’s heart slammed against his ribs, pulse shooting through the roof.

  Was she testing him? Messing with him? What if she was just joking? He would look like such an idiot. Why did he care all of a sudden if he looked like an idiot? He was a giant man who proudly played with Mai Tai umbrellas for crying out loud.

  But what if she was serious? What if he missed out because he was too much of a pansy? What did he have to lose, really? As soon as she got her amulet, she’d be on her way and he’d probably never see her again, so might as well take the chance.

  The corner of his mouth ticked up. “Where’s the rope?”

  CHAPTER 11 – ANGELINE

  Captain Angeline Quintana sat in the center of the bed and suddenly felt very small. What was she doing!? She’d done outfits, some light roleplay, even body frosting, but she’d never tried bondage before. Yes, she was horny as hell, but could she really give up total control like that? Was it too late to back out? Kyle really shouldn’t have left her alone for so long, could it really be that hard to find a damn rope? She chugged the rest of her beer, which, now that she had half a loaf of bread in her stomach, didn’t do much.

  Kyle finally returned, shut the door, and awkwardly stood at the foot of the bed. God he was cute, even with that hint of nerves tugging on his face. Good! Okay! Yes. It wouldn’t be any problem, he was hot as hell, it would be fun. Her body had already started reacting to him, now she just had to convince her mind. She just had to let go.

  He swung the pack off his shoulder and pulled out the contents. Three candles, a couple ropes, a… riding crop. And—

  “Is that a feather?” she said, shifting to her knees.

  “Yeah,” he laughed, “I don’t want you to get bored. I found it in the armory, it’s been treated, it’s to make arrows with.”

  No wonder he was gone so long, he was off getting creative. Rope was one thing, but between the feather and the riding crop, she wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about it. “Good,” she said, awkwardly, “wouldn’t want to pick up any weird bird diseases.” Hot. That was some hot pillow talk.

  Oh. Shit.

  “Speaking of diseases,” she said, pointing to his amulet. “Do you think the anti-infection and anti-conception spells in that thing work if only one of us is wearing it?”

  “Yes,” he said, “I know for a fact they do. No way I was gonna risk it the way people slept around back when I was at post.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Good.” Yes, it was awkward… but she had to ask. It would have been stupid not to. She was initially going to demand he let her wear the amulet, but she knew that would result in a deflated erection and an enthusiastic ‘hell no, Angelface’. He was never going to hand it over. That’s okay, hearing it had been thoroughly tested was comfort enough. She trusted him.

  Wait? She trusted him? When did that happen?

  “So, uh…” he mumbled, snatching the candles and walking around to place them on the bedside table. “What’s the safe-word gonna be?”

  Oh. She’d heard of that. A hint of relief dusted down her spine. She wouldn’t be giving up total control after all. “How about ‘butter’?” she said, eyes landing on the empty box he’d carried the creamy treat in.

  “Butter. Okay, got it. Any ground rules?”

  Rules. She loosened a little more.

  “Umm,” she said, “nothing goes in my ass.”

  “Fair enough,” he said.

  Wait. No ass jokes? Who was this man!?

  “And nothing leaves this room,” she said. “This is a one-time thing.”

  He paused for a second and looked her up and down, his brow folded in an emotion she couldn’t quite identify.

  “Okay,” he finally said, “nothing leaves this room.”

  They were both silent for a second.

  “Ready?” he finally asked.

  She nodded.

  He picked up his beer, chugged the rest of it, and set it back down without another word. Then he lifted a palm and whipped three little flames alive atop each candle wick. As he extinguished the larger candles overhead, the room fell into a glimmering darkness, illuminated only by the soft glow in the corner.

  The shadows fell across his face, and suddenly he was transformed completely. Gone was the lively grin of the cocky, carefree jokester, replaced instead by a smirk so wicked he resembled the Devil himself. The deviant sparkle in his eye had narrowed, burrowing under her clothes as though he could burn them away with just a look. He wanted her, and he wanted her bad.

  A slickness gathered between her thighs under the heat of his penetrating gaze. This was a Salamander in its truest form, a fire demon, an elemental force. If she wanted to stop this, she had to do it now. She knew as soon as he touched her, her resolve would turn to ash.

  But it didn’t even take a touch, all it took was a word.

  “Stand,” he ordered, voice dropped down low, deliciously smooth.

  Her body obeyed, an invisible force pulling her to her feet before her mind could argue. It felt as though she’d shut off that part of herself, locked away the prickling need to command, or even to choose. She didn’t have to call the shots here. An exhilarating tingle washed through her as she stood before him, awaiting his next order.

  A di
mple formed on his cheek, his amused smirk darkening. His amulet began to softly glow. He raised a hand and her shirt burst into flames.

  Then as quickly as the fire had ignited, it went out.

  Kyle laughed lazily as Angeline looked down at the front of her shirt, now split open in the front, edges charred, revealing her bra underneath.

  For a brief moment, a surge of irritation bubbled up in the back of her throat, but as her surprise settled, she couldn’t help but smirk back at the Salamander and his scintillating ingenuity.

  “You like that?” he rasped, lowering his palm.

  “Yes,” she answered before she could even think.

  “Good. Now take off your pants. Slowly.”

  Her hands dropped to her zipper, as though entranced by his words.

  His eyes darkened as she slid the zipper down, watching, mouth parted as she sluggishly pulled the fabric away from her hips, pressing it down her thighs. He sucked in an appreciative breath as she let her fatigues drop to the floor, pooling around her ankles.

  She stood stock still, awaiting instruction, his simmering gaze swimming up and down her exposed body. Five minutes ago, she would have been upset by the dynamic: her nearly naked, him still fully clothed and giving orders. But when those lights dimmed, her dark side had come out to play. She was no longer Captain Quintana, her name was Angel, and she’d do whatever this man demanded. It was time for someone else to play God.

  “Kneel.” He nodded towards the bed with his chin. Cracking his neck, he eyed her with an animalistic hunger, a predator, considering his prey.

  She felt a warm pull low in her core as she crawled onto the mattress. It had been five long years since a man had given her that look, since a man had been strong enough to take her on. Her partners since then had been so sloppy drunk they could barely get it up.

  As much as she hated Jesse and everything he did to her, she missed feeling like a queen, she missed the worship only a king could bestow. In their world, fucked up as it was, they were royalty. But now, after everything she’d seen, she knew this world was pretty fucked up too.

  Rough callouses grazed the cheek of her ass through her panties, snapping her out of her daze.

  Hissing in satisfaction, Kyle gave her a quick, all too brief squeeze and pulled his hand away. “I’ve wanted to feel that ass ever since I saw you from that hill. It’s even better up close. Angelic.”

  Angeline turned over her shoulder and stole a glance at Kyle. Her body tightened at the look of sheer lust slathered across his features. In a world where she did everything wrong, it felt so good to feel perfect, just for a second. And the way he was looking at her, she felt like a damn goddess.

  Kyle plucked the feather off the table and brushed it against his palm. “Alright Angelface, time to test your wings. Face forward.” He bit his lip and reached for her, knocking her legs further apart with his fingertips.

  Ohhh, why was being handled that way such a turn-on? Angeline whipped back around to hide her flushed cheeks and took a steadying breath. She curled her fingers tight over the scratchy blanket and waited for Kyle to make his next move. Then, on the back of her left thigh, just above the knee, she felt the soft brush of the feather kissing down against her ready skin.

  He chuckled softly as she leaned into the sensation. Carefully, deliberately, he brushed the ticklish tip up and down one leg and then the other.

  She gripped the sheets tighter, stomach clenching under the divine little circles dusting across her skin. Such a gentle whisper of a touch. A conflicting feel of satisfaction and insufficiency rolled in her chest, it tingled so good, but it was just a tease. She needed his hands on her, it was the only thing that could slake this tortuous thirst. But, she knew he’d make her wait, he was having too much fun watching her squirm.

  With a grunt, he readjusted behind her, boots echoing softly on the cold, stone floor. He discarded the feather, finally bringing his hot palms to the backs of her thighs instead.

  She moaned into his touch, pressing against him.

  “Hold still, Angelface,” he said, removing his hands once more.

  A whimper of frustration slipped past her lips before she could stop it.

  He laughed darkly. “I know, babydoll, patience. I know you want it, but I’m not going to give it to you until you need it.

  A flicker flared in her chest, her inner Salamander coming alive. She didn’t just need it, she needed him. NOW. She had been commanded to wait, but she just couldn’t. The fire in her veins would eat her up. She reached for him and took control.

  CHAPTER 12 – KYLE

  Kyle stared down the front of his pants, to Angeline’s hand wrapped around the outline of his swollen cock, growing harder under her touch. He wanted to laugh, to knock her hand away and say something teasing, but that look in her beautiful hazel eyes, fuck. He was helpless. That look, it wasn’t just the usual surprise at how thick his dick was, no it was something more.

  No. He had to get it together. Whatever weird thoughts he was imagining running through her head, he knew it wasn’t real. The beer was letting him get a bit too creative. Yeah. Right. The whole big, fat, singular beer they’d each had. Sure.

  Fuck. He had to take back control. This was his routine; no way was he going to let someone else choreograph it. He reached down and snatched her hand, prying her hot fingers off the length of his cock.

  “No touching,” he grinned, pulling her hand vexingly close to his abs.

  A little whimper of protest buzzed behind her lips.

  Geez, why did that sound make him melt? She had him feeling all gooey like the goddamn butter. Butter. Some safe-word.

  This sure was a hell of a lot easier when it was some random chick in a bar, or the odd, wet-pantied Salamander out on patrol. He needed to get it together. He needed to lock it down. What he really needed, was to tie her up.

  With one hand, he jerked Angeline’s palms together and held them firmly in place. Snatching the rope off the nightstand, he quickly, deftly, twisted a couple knots around her wrists.

  She gave him a subtle smirk as if to challenge him. He tugged at the knots. Just to be sure, she was strong as hell after all. If she pulled a Houdini in the heat of it, his dick would deflate lickity split.

  He gazed down. Should he tie up more than just her wrists? His eyes drifted down over her smooth, honey skin. Okay, okay, maybe dick deflation wasn’t a thing he had to worry about around her. He’d just make sure the rope was extra tight.

  He gave it another good tug to increase the tension. As her bonds tightened, so did his pants.

  She noticed.

  Nope. Can’t let her see the effect she’s having. Kyle scooped one arm beneath her, the other hand grabbing the binds and flipped her over, back onto all fours. He yanked down her panties and stood back.

  Her sweet gasp of surprise sent a little shiver straight to his groin making him somehow even harder.

  He stared down, mesmerized by the candlelight flickering off the soft flesh of her ass. Goddamn she really did look like an angel. The pads of his fingers ached, every part of him begging him to just reach out and sink his thumbs into the meat of her round cheeks. “There’s a penalty for touching.”

  He paused for a second then laughed silently at his choice of words. Was he informing her of her punishment, or was it a warning to himself? Unintentionally clever.

  He snagged the riding crop, dragging the warm leather across his palm. Then he closed his fist and squeezed the handle tight, hoping to release some of the ridiculous stress that was piling up inside him. What was he doing? Getting down and dirty was supposed to relieve stress, not cause it. He just had to focus.

  Drawing one knee up to the mattress, he slid his fingers into her thick, wild hair. He leaned forward and buried his face in her locks, inhaling deep. Wet grass and honey, with a hint of tangy, earthy salt from days in the field. Goddamn delicious.

  A sweet groan drifted from her lips as he gently tugged her head back further, exposing
the soft skin of her neck. He slipped his hand from her hair down her collar, thumb brushing along her throat. His fingers closed slightly, just enough to hold her in place, but light enough to where she wouldn’t bruise.

  Apparently, the pressure was just right. The fucking Goldilocks of caresses. He could tell by the look in her eyes, by the deepened tempo of her breath. He watched her beautiful face as he slowly brought the riding crop to her back, tendrils trailing over the tops of her pert ass cheeks and down over the backs of her thighs.

  The flames from the candles reflected in her big golden eyes, illuminated with want.

  Time to give her a taste. “Ready for your punishment?”

  She nodded.

  With a quick flick of his wrist, he cracked a snap across the smooth skin of her ass.

  She bucked against his hand at her throat, a hiss whistling over her teeth.

  Her lips parted, pupils dilating, rounder, darker. Angelface liked.

  Kyle smirked and went back for a second.

  She jerked again, this time with a little squeal. Her long fingers twisted in the sheets as she angled her ass a little higher, wordlessly begging for more.

  He gave her one more crack then released his grip on her neck. Swinging around on his knees, he placed his hand on the back of her head and guided her face to the sheets, her ass rising in opposite tandem.

  He leaned back and admired her shape, the curve of her back from nape to base, her head resting against the mattress, her lower-half ready, exposed.

  Was it hard for her to lay like this, vulnerable? Captain brain all switched off? Well, if it was, she sure as hell wasn’t acting like it. Though what he had in mind next… that just might bring out the safe-word.

  He shifted around, away from her head, and sat back on his knees behind her. His chest rose with a deep, sharp breath at the sight of her. Pink and silky. He had to see more.