Two of a Kind (Desire Island 2)

“You ready, my love?” Dylan murmured into her ear from behind, startling her.

“I hope so,” she replied breathlessly. “I’m scared.”

“Embrace the fear. Surrender to it.”

His words calmed her and she nodded. “Yes, Sir. I’m ready.”

She drew in a sharp breath at the first contact—a light tap of the wand’s head against her ass. She felt the heat, but it didn’t burn, the touch quick and precise.

Caelan was drumming his wand against Skylar’s body, the fire moving in gracefully, sparking arcs behind her. Skylar’s lips were parted, her eyes shining, her nipples fully erect.

Behind Kendra, Dylan picked up the pace, tapping the fiery wand rhythmically against her flesh, each burning touch sending a flame of excitement directly to her cunt. It was like a hot, stinging spanking that hurt so good.

“You doing okay?” Dylan asked after a while, pausing a moment to kiss the back of her neck. He ran his hand over the path of the wand, his touch at once soothing and exciting.

“Yes, Sir,” she breathed, leaning into her cuffs, warmth spreading through her body.

“Then it’s time to ramp this up a bit,” Dylan responded.

She gasped as he changed the tempo from soothing, gliding strokes to hard, fiery taps that felt like the snap of a rubber band against her skin. Each touch was painful but brief, stoking the masochistic pleasure center in her brain until it was burning as hot as the flames that licked her skin.

When the torches went out, the men returned to the toy table to take up the floggers. They had long oak handles, knotted Kevlar rope tresses hanging from them.

Kendra was completely relaxed now, in that delicious zone where deep sexual excitement blended with erotic fear of what was coming next. Skylar, across the pit, looked similarly relaxed, her face a study in erotic bliss.

Kendra gasped with awe as the men dipped the alcohol-soaked tresses into the fire, setting them aflame with a whoosh. Caelan moved behind Skylar, his fiery flogger whirling in dramatic crescents through the air.

She knew she was safe as Dylan took his place again behind her. Nevertheless, the powerful dichotomy of the beauty of the fire versus its potential for pain made her tremble. For a moment, she considered calling out her safeword. This was too scary—too intense. What if he burned her? What if she freaked out?

As if reading her thoughts, Dylan’s mouth was suddenly by her ear, his voice low and soothing. “You can do this, Kendra. I know you can. Surrender your fears to me. I’ll keep you safe. Remember, you belong to me.”

As his words reverberated in her soul, the tension that had coiled in her limbs unspooled. Her breathing slowed, her skin tingling now with the need for what he offered. “I’m ready, Sir,” she whispered.

She cried out as the fiery tresses smacked across her ass, the impact more powerful than a plain leather flogger, both because of the knotted ends of the tresses, and the flames. She rose on her toes, jerking in her restraints, her heart slamming in her chest.

As before, the heat was intense but quick, the tresses only in contact with her skin for a fraction of a second. The roar of the flames filled her ears as she gasped with each sharp stroke of the flogger. Watching Caelan and Skylar was like seeing a mirror image of Dylan and herself. The flaming flogger struck Skylar at the same time the stinging, hot rope made contact with Kendra’s flesh.

Sweat bathed her body, both from the heat of the flames and the passion building inside her. The novel experience, the fiery impact, the sight of Skylar across from her with her head thrown back, her body jerking with each masterfully placed strike of Caelan’s flogger, all combined to send Kendra to a powerfully erotic space. The last vestiges of fear ebbed away as she was lifted into the dark, perfect peace of sublime surrender.

Across from her, she saw that Caelan’s flaming flogger arced and spun in the air. Skylar’s face was lifted to the dark sky, her chest slowly rising and falling as the rope tresses brushed her skin.

Kendra savored the stinging stroke against her back and ass, the flickering heat lifting her to her toes. All too soon, Dylan eased the intensity of his stroke.

“Don’t stop,” Kendra begged. “Sir, I want more. More. Please, more.”

Dylan chuckled softly behind her. “It’s enough, sweetheart. You’ve had enough.”

She sighed, aware on one level he was right, though she felt as if she could stay there forever, bound to the whipping post, kissed by the flames.

She didn’t have the strength to protest, though, when Dylan reached up to release her wrists cuffs. She collapsed back against him with a deep, satisfied sigh.

Though the floggers had sputtered out, the fire was still dancing and sparking in the pit. Dylan draped a light blanket around Kendra’s shoulders and led her to one of the cushioned benches.