by Vivian Wood
He buried himself in her, not wanting to let her go. Effie writhed beneath him and hooked her heels behind his thighs.
Gradually, King allowed her to control some of the rhythm. Her little yelps into his ear got him close to coming. He pulled out and ignored her desperate scratches at his back that kept him close.
“What are you doing?” she murmured.
“Hold on.”
King went into the bathroom and found the paraffin wax that had been shoved in the back of the drawers for years alongside a book of matches.
“What is that?” Effie asked as he re-entered the room.
“Turn on the bedside lamp.”
Her eyes widened when she saw the tapered candles, but she didn’t ask any questions.
“Remember,” he said as he lit the candle. “You need to be quiet. If it hurts too much, shake your head no. But it should be a little painful, right at first. If you want more, nod. No talking, got it?”
Effie nodded and let him push her back.
The first of the candle drippings started to lick down its length. Carefully, King let one drop fall high onto Effie’s chest, just below the collar bone. She winced and he cocked his head at her. But she opened her eyes and nodded for more.
Drop by drop, King made his way to her areolas. Effie winced less, but as the wax hit the edge of the most sensitive part of her breasts, she closed her eyes and caught her breath.
Her nipples hardened for the first time since he’d started the candle play. Effie caught his eye and nodded at him.
“Play with yourself,” he said quietly.
Her hand moved to her clit and she began the slow circles he’d come to know so well. Effie bit her lip and held his gaze as he tipped the candle to the side—higher to reduce the pain—and watched as the droplet splattered across her nipple. Effie closed her eyes in pleasure and let out an animalistic moan.
“Quiet,” he reminded her. Effie pressed her hips shut.
By the time he’d nearly covered both breasts in the wax, her nipples were rock hard. He could tell she was close to coming as he blew out the candle and set it into a mug on the bedside table.
King straddled her chest while Effie opened her mouth, eager to take him between her lips. Instead, King slid two fingers into her mouth.
“Suck,” he whispered and she obliged, greedily.
He spread the wetness across her breasts and pressed them together. King ran his thumb across her wax-covered nipples as he started to fuck her breasts. Slow at first, he picked up speed. He could feel her hand beneath him as she fingered her clit to match his rhythm.
“Here,” he said, and pulled both her hands to her chest.
As Effie held her breasts together, he continued to fuck them while he reached behind and dove two fingers into her. With one thumb on her clit, he couldn’t believe how wet she was.
“Stick out your tongue,” he demanded in a low voice.
When she did, he watched the tip of his cock meet her tongue. Effie’s mouth opened wider. It always amazed him, how much she wanted him—every part of him, anything she could get.
He slid a third finger into her and she threw back her head in ecstasy.
“Do you want me to fuck you now?” he asked.
“More than anything,” she said.
“Do you want me to come in you?”
Even as the words fell out, they surprised him—and it surprised him how much he wanted it, too.
“Yes, oh, God, please,” she moaned.
“Will you be quiet?” he teased her as he pushed her hands away from her breasts and settled on top of her.
King kissed the lobe of her ear and trailed his tongue along her jawbone. He felt the softness of the wax, melting again from the heat between them, on his chest.
“I’ll be good,” she murmured.
“Are you sure?” he asked. King positioned his tip at her opening. “You can’t wake up my parents. Or my brother.”
“I promise, I’ll be really good,” she said. “Whatever you want.”
With that, he entered her again. He heard a cry start to build up in her throat, but Effie bit his shoulder to quiet herself. The sudden shot of pain got him closer than he thought he was.
“You’re fucking incredible,” he said. “And so fucking wet. How does your pussy get so wet?”
“You,” she whispered. “You do this to me.”
“Are you going to come on my cock?” he whispered.
“Yeah, all over it,” she groaned.
King started to fuck her faster. The slickness between them, sweat mixed with the warm wax, was too much to bear.
Effie let out a sharp yelp and he felt her body squeeze his length at the start of her orgasm. King clamped his hand over her mouth to muffle her.
“Let it go,” he whispered.
With that allowance, she screamed into his hand. He felt the heat and wetness of her squirt against him. It was all he needed to release inside her.
When he came, she wrapped her legs tighter around him while her nails dug into his back. Effie started to shiver beneath him, too sensitive to take any more.
King buried down deep. He felt the combination of their orgasms already pushing out of her.
Effie’s shivers finally subsided. King pulled out of her slowly. He looked down and watched himself spill out of her. He was still half-hard and covered in everything they’d just done.
He pushed himself up and stood by the bed.
“You did good,” he told her as he brushed stray locks off her forehead. “Do you want your reward?”
“Yes, please,” she smiled up at him, exhausted.
Still, she sat up and parted her lips as he directed himself into her mouth. Effie closed her eyes in pleasure as she licked his length.
“Gentle,” he said as she cleaned him up. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. That was the sight he’d never be able to get over. “Tell me, how do we taste together?”
He tucked her hair behind her ears as she lightly flicked her tongue across his tip.
“Like perfection,” she said.
Effie gripped his ass and pulled him deep into her throat. He felt himself begin to regain full hardness again. Effie’s hand loosened its grip on his base. King felt a finger trail across his scrotum to his perineum and finally to his ass.
“Effie—” he started, but the sensation instantly made him rock hard. She re-gripped his cock with her other hand and teased his ass while she expertly licked and sucked his cock.
The light from the bedside table highlighted her tits, covered in the melting wax and nipples hard as always.
“You’re going to make me come again,” he said. King wound his wingers through her hair.
She released him from her mouth for just a moment.
“That’s the goal,” she said quietly. Effie went right back to working him.
King closed his eyes and tilted his head back.
How did she know exactly what to do? Every move she made, from pressing just enough into his ass. The way she pushed her tongue against his cock just right as she took him to the back of her throat was perfectly intuitive.
“I’m going to come,” he said through clenched teeth. “Fuck, Effie—”
She kept him at the back of her throat and increased the speed of the ass play. He hadn’t planned to release in the back of her throat, but her hold was tight and it was too tempting. When he was about to let go, she began to hum. The vibration took him beyond anything he’d experienced before.
He cradled her head carefully as he released himself. Effie licked her lips and gazed up at him. Beyond tired, he laid down on the bed and pulled her close. With her back pressed against his chest, everything felt in place.
King might be uncomfortable with his feelings for her, but he couldn’t deny they existed.
Damn. How did she manage to get me ensnared again?
In the cabin, he thought it was just the sex. It was the best sex of his life, but he couldn’t create or sustain a rel
ationship on that. But it was more than sex. There was a connection between them that was more than lust.
Their time together had bound them in a messy web with no clear exit. At this point, he realized he didn’t know if he’d be able to go on without her. It had taken him years after they’d broken up the first time to be with anyone and not see Effie’s face.
But these past few days? It was worlds better than their first time. Unlike anything he’d experienced before.
Not only did he not know how to unhook himself, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.
21
Effie
Effie snuggled deeper in the unfamiliar sheets. When she reached for King, she felt nothing. As she fluttered her eyes open, she realized he was gone.
Great. Just like always, she thought.
She knew it had been a mistake to go in the bedroom after him last night, but what else was she supposed to do? Being with him was the closest thing to comfort she had.
She swung her legs over the edge of the massive bed and saw a note on the nightstand.
I’ll be back soon. Don’t go anywhere.
Effie groaned. That’s just what she needed—to be left alone, quarantined in a strange house to take care of Yaya, while he runs all over town.
Crap, Yaya, she thought.
Effie pulled on the same clothes from last night and raced downstairs. She didn’t hear anything, but more than once she’d found Yaya fallen and unable to move. When she asked why Yaya hadn’t called for help, her grandmother just said, “Stop making such a fuss, I was perfectly fine.”
She breathed a sigh of relief when she found Yaya in the guest en suite brushing her hair.
“Good morning, Yaya,” she said. “Did you sleep well?”
“Oh, honey, just wonderfully,” her Yaya said. “Have you heard back from the ambassador yet?”
Sometimes it was easy to tell which era her Yaya was in based on what she said. Now, it seemed to be around forty years ago. It was a good era for Yaya, which meant it would be relatively easy to take care of her.
“Not yet, Yaya. Do you want to watch some television with me? Seinfeld?”
“Sweetheart, you know I hate that show,” Yaya said with a sniff.
Effie ushered her grandmother into the great room and fiddled with the various remotes while Yaya gazed at the family portrait.
“I think I know that young man,” Yaya said as she pointed to King.
“Oh, yeah? Is he a good guy?”
Yaya sniffed. “I don’t know about that, but he’s certainly good looking. It’s too bad I’m taken.”
“Yaya!” Effie said with a laugh as she finally figured out the television.
“What? I can still look, can’t I? I haven’t gone blind.”
Effie flipped through the various stations while Yaya was transfixed on the non-stop trailers.
“Well, would you look at this?” Yaya asked, mesmerized. “I never thought I’d live to see the day everything got so high tech.”
“Does anything look good, Yaya?” Effie asked. She lingered on Seinfeld, but Yaya wouldn’t bite.
“Oh, whatever you want, dear. I’m not picky.”
Effie gave Friends a shot, and fortunately Yaya settled into the plush, thick leather sectional.
“Would you like to share something with me?” Effie asked. “Popcorn, or something?”
“I’m fine, dear.”
“Yaya, you need something to take with your pills.”
Her grandmother let out an exasperated sigh.
“Fine, fine,” she said.
Effie dug through the pantry and checked all the non-perishable foods. She found a packet of movie theater-style popcorn in the back. Yaya’s pills were neatly sorted by the day in her bevy of pill containers. The microwave beeped as she filled a glass with water and double checked all the pills were in order.
“Would you look at this?” Yaya asked as Effie entered the great room. “How do these young folks live in such a big apartment in New York on those salaries? I lived in New York, and let me tell you we didn’t have an apartment like that.”
“It’s one of life’s greatest mysteries, Yaya,” Effie said.
She curled up in the couch next to her grandmother and handed her the pills and water. It had been years since Yaya kicked up a fuss about taking the pills, but it seemed burned into her daily tasks now.
As she watched her grandmother munch on the popcorn and watch television, Effie bit her lip.
What if someone comes over here while King is gone? She couldn’t come up with any kind of excuse. This is a super temporary situation at best, she reminded herself.
Still, she needed to make certain there was no trace of them being there. If Thorne came barreling into the house, there was no telling what he might do.
They watched three episodes—or, Yaya watched three episodes while Effie obsessively checked the time. When the neighbor’s dog started barking, she nearly jumped out of the seat.
“Everything okay, sweetheart?” her Yaya asked.
“Uh, yeah. Good. The dog just scared me.”
“You never liked dogs, Bill. I don’t know what your problem is.”
Effie could tell from the tone, and the mention of her uncle’s name, that her grandmother had moved into a different decade.
Hopefully not an upsetting one.
At the end of the fifth episode, Effie heard a shuffling at the door and a smart knock.
Shit, shit, shit. She pressed herself against the wall and inched down the foyer. A shadow could be made out through the ornamental stained glass of the big double doors, but the shadow didn’t seem to be moving much. Who is it and what do they want?
Effie was an arm’s stretch away when the brass mail slot shot open and a cascade of mail fell through. Only then did she let out her breath.
There must be a package left outside, she thought. Effie realized that there wasn’t any mail around when they’d come in the previous day. Who’s getting the mail, then?
It made her nervous. Someone had to be checking the house regularly, if not daily. It might be a caretaker. Or it might be someone in King’s family.
“Who was it, dear?” her Yaya asked when she pulled her feet up on the couch beside her.
“Just the mailman.” Yaya seemed satisfied and returned to the bowl of popcorn.
All of this nervousness and jumping around reminded her of the first time King left. In between the bouts of crying, she kept jumping up to check the window every time a car drove by. Effie never thought he’d really leave her. She was confident he’d drive up to her house at any moment and apologize.
But it never happened. Instead, it was Thorne who showed up at her door. She’d been so happy when she saw a slick Rolls Royce roll into the driveway, sure it was King in his father’s car going all out to win her back, that she’d raced out of the driveway and directly into his arms—Thorne’s arms.
That’s how it had all started. Effie often wondered if she was really so blinded by hope and love for King that she didn’t realize it was Thorne. Or maybe she did know, and she saw an opportunity even before Thorne spelled it out for her.
It was the end of the sixth episode, and Effie couldn’t stop herself from pacing behind the couch. Yaya kept turning to look at her, but Effie couldn’t help it.
She had to move. Otherwise, she’d go crazy. The exterior sounds were still making her crazy. She bristled and jumped with every motor starting or animal sound.
This is it, it’s for real this time. He’s not coming back. He ditched me here, in his family house, and is probably laughing about it right now.
Effie froze behind Yaya and scanned the room.
Cameras. There are probably cameras in here. What if King was watching her, incredulous that she’d believed him for so long?
Then again, it’s not really his job to come back, she thought. He could just leave me and Yaya here, and I can’t be mad about it. Not really, not after I accepted Thorne’s stupid pr
oposal years ago.
Effie knew she should have resisted. She should have said no. But her mother had put incredible pressure on her, and it had felt kind of good when Thorne showed up at her door like a white knight. She swallowed, guilty. It also helped that there were some physical similarities between King and Thorne.
Of course, King had always been better looking. Taller, more muscular, a squarer jaw and a thick five o’clock shadow. But he shared the same eyes as Thorne, and they had the same twitch in their cheeks when they were annoyed.
Effie couldn’t count how many times she’d slept with Thorne and wished it were King. When she’d had a few drinks, it was easy. The parts of Thorne that reminded her of King became highlighted. Still, she kept her eyes mostly closed when she was with Thorne and tried to convince her brain and body that it was King she was with.
But he didn’t kiss like King. It wasn’t deep and passionate. He didn’t make love to her like King did. There was no fooling her in her deepest parts. Thorne was a poor substitution or alternative, and the last week had really put that in perspective.
Who gets over something to life-changing so fast? she wondered.
Not someone like Thorne, that’s for sure.
It wasn’t just her, and she knew it. Yes, she’d jumped right into bed with King the first chance she got, but she hadn’t sought it out. It just happened. Thorne had done a complete one-eighty, too. He’d soared through guilt and begging straight into revenge territory. Effie wasn’t sure what would have happened if Thorne hadn’t caught her with King.
Would he still be trying to turn the tables? She didn’t know. He shouldn’t be surprised, though. After all, I was with King first.
Effie chewed at her cuticle. On the television, an advertisement for cologne began to play with the Supremes crooning in the background.
“Oh, Effie, baby, you always liked this song,” Yaya said. She turned and smiled at Effie.
Effie returned the smile. The lucid moments were rare.
“You played it for me first,” she said.
As “Stop! In the Name of Love” faded, Effie knew her feelings for King had come shimmering back to life in the past week—she could try to deny it all she wanted. And it was easy, given how incredible the sex was. Who wouldn’t fall apart with sex like that? But it was more than that, and she knew it.
