“I have an idea,” Lucian said. “I will be right back.”
I alternated between a black candle and ready-melted wax in a bowl that Cam held for me.
Regardless of how I felt about the kink, my sweetheart did look amazing in this position. His skin shone from the oil I’d applied before beginning the scene, and the fact that Greer had turned his ass a nice shade of red made it even better.
Lucian returned a minute or so later, and when he opened his hand to reveal six or seven melting ice cubes, I grinned widely. Only, those weren’t cubes. They were round.
“You sly devil—I love you.” I accepted the ice and immediately started pushing one piece inside Noa’s ass.
“Gah! What in the popsicle fuck is this?!” he yelled and went rigid.
I pushed in another. “Quiet, boy.” And a third—to the sweet sounds of Noa’s groaning and bitching. The fourth plopped right in, and that was when I noticed Lucian’s sort of traumatized expression in the corner of my eye.
“Daddy!” Noa whined.
“What’s wrong?” I mouthed to Lucian.
He blinked and snapped out of what’d just struck him. And he sighed heavily. “I think you just ruined wax play for me. I brought the ice so you could drip the cold water on his skin. Sensation play. The contrasts of hot and cold.”
I frowned and, without looking, pushed in a fifth ice ball into Noa’s bottom. “Oh. Where’s the fun in that? Here you go, little boy, have a splash of water on your ass.”
Cam coughed to hide his laughter.
Lucian stared at me; maybe he was silently counting to one hundred, because that’s what it looked like, and it gave me time to ease the last ice cube around Noa’s balls and cock.
He didn’t like that, my boy. “Oh my fuck, will you stop?! Daddy!”
See, this was much more fun. The last of the ice was used to make sure all the wax had hardened, and I was looking forward to the next bit. I’d been careful to drip the wax so the drops touched one another in an even coat. It was coming off in a let-’er-rip style.
“I give up,” Lucian muttered, returning to his side of the platform. “You’ve completed your task. The puzzle piece is yours. Now you gently, slowly, peel off—”
I ripped it. With my fingers digging into the edges of the waxy cover, I just pulled.
Noa let out a sharp scream that went straight to my cock. Fuck me, the way he trembled and twitched, how his skin glistened, the red marks left behind, the melted water trickling out—I wanted to tongue-fuck him into oblivion.
Lucian smashed his lips together and directed his stare skyward, his someone-give-me-strength impatience plain as day. I’d laugh if my boy didn’t steal my attention again. He wiggled free from the invisible bondage, from my command that he stay on all fours, and he jumped into my lap and kissed me with so much need that he once again confirmed how perfect we were for each other. Gently peel, my ass. Noa didn’t want it gentle. I didn’t want it gentle. I kissed him back with just as much passion, and I kneaded his ass cheeks forcefully to enhance the pleasure he derived from the pain.
“That was so hot, Daddy,” he panted, voice shaky. Eyes bright and shining with tears. “It stings so bad. It makes my butt needy.”
“I know it does, baby.” I fingered him lightly as I teased his tongue with mine, and a cold, wet patch formed on my thigh. “Look what you’re doing. Your bottom is leaking water.”
He giggled breathlessly. “How is that my fault? You tried to shove a glacier up there!”
I rumbled a laugh and kissed his nose.
“All right, you fucking savages. Here’s your puzzle piece.” Lucian grumbled to himself and handed over our next clue. “Slave, you can give Noa his kiddie prize too.”
Noa perked up at that, and he sniffled and glued his gaze to Cameron, who dug out a small bag of something from underneath the platform.
“What’s this?” Noa tore into the paper bag and grinned widely. “Look!” It was a clown nose. “Look what I won, Daddy!”
“You have to wear it.” I chuckled and pinched the little ball, which felt like a stress ball, only lighter. I attached it to his nose and watched him light up with Little glee.
Not even Lucian could stay cranky at that sight.
“I’m a clown!” Noa laughed.
No one argued.
The evening we had prepared some of the decorations for the event, Noa had been wildly curious about the box that’d only gotten fifteen red balloons.
He was about to discover why.
With dinner out of the way on the patio, he helped me out of my chair and into my braces. Then I instructed him to head inside the cabin and put on a pair of jeans, a hoodie, and real shoes. He couldn’t be running around in the woods wearing nothing but his puppy briefs.