Work Text:
"Whaddya think, cutie?" Rafayel's eyes are mischievous as they assess her. "Willing to let me turn you into a mixed media masterpiece?"
She swallows, her mouth watering a little in anticipation as she surveys the array of coloured paraffin candles. Her skin is warm from the massage candle that Rafayel had dutifully rubbed into her skin earlier. He had anointed her with the sensual oil as though she were a monarch about to receive a divine blessing; worshiping every inch of her with reverent touches. Now she's bare before him, glistening as he appraises her in the dim light the way he appraises his canvas after a flash of inspiration lights through his veins.
Taking a deep breath, she nods, reclining on the already ruined sheets and propping herself up on an elbow. "Drip on me like one of your French girls." She looks off into the middle distance dramatically to emphasize her joke.
Rafayel grins and laughs with her. "I can't say I've dripped anything on any girls from any other countries." He steps towards her, holding a navy blue candle in one hand. Closing the distance with a few long strides, he cups her chin and leans down to kiss her deeply. His lips still taste like a mixture of her and the massage oil from earlier. She leans into the kiss, devouring his small moans. No matter how many times she kisses Rafayel, he gives her butterflies, and the luscious sounds he makes in response make those butterflies flutter lower and lower.
"Let's let this be another one of our many firsts together, yeah?" He rasps against her lips with his forehead pressed to hers. She nods against him and his arm guides her back down onto the bed. Maintaining eye contact with her, he snaps his fingers, lighting the wick of the candle in his hand. Rafayel smooths her hair away from her face, artistic eye trailing down her body. The constant observation of her body was once intimidating; an opportunity for flaws and undesirable traits to be unearthed and scrutinized, however Rafayel's eyes were never filled with anything but sincere devotion and heartwarming adoration when he looked at her.
Fingers trail and dip along her curves with feather light touches until his palm comes to rest above her navel. He glances up at her for confirmation and she nods again, chest heaving in anticipation. Sunset hued eyes dart quickly down to her chest, sneaking an illicit glance and smirking before smiling at her and slowly tipping the candle over her skin from a foot away. The warm wax spatters over her stomach and she clenches her abdominal muscles as she adjusts to the new sensation. Rafayel looks up to check in on her, righting the candle for a moment.
The flame from the candle reflects in her gaze where it's transfixed on the dark trail of slowly hardening wax. Rafayel smiles as he tips the candle back down, moving it in a swirling pattern and continuing to drip droplets of coloured wax along her skin. It's hypnotic; the steady rhythm of wax on skin, the emerging pattern, the sensual closeness of her lover as he leans over her. She's so mesmerized it takes her a moment to realize that Rafayel has extinguished the navy blue candle and fetched a saffron yellow one which he ignites again with a snap.
Long fingers trace over the cooling bumps as they wait for the wax to melt enough to use. "Can you handle a little more heat? My big strong bodyguard isn't afraid of fire, right?"
She looks into his eyes - they're rapt with an expression she knows well: inspiration. Rafayel has a vision of what he wants to see, but first, as with many of his masterpieces, it requires a bit of pain. Her hand finds his, and she brings it up to her face, kissing delicately in the center of his palm like he does so often with her. His gaze melts, and he focuses back down on her abdomen, bringing the candle just above her skin and pooling the hot wax onto her sternum. She winces, inhaling sharply as the saffron liquid flows between her breasts. Rafayel presses an apologetic kiss to her nipple, sucking and licking around her areola. She groans and arches into him, making the wax follow the dip in the center of her chest all the way to her belly button before it begins to harden against her skin.
Rafayel kisses her other nipple and extinguishes the candle with a swat of his hand. He cradles her head as he hovers above her, not leaning in and embracing her tightly as he usually does. Mindful not to disturb the wax, he withdraws again with a chagrined expression. He returns with a red candle, lighting it and setting it aside. He pulls her hand to his face, kissing her palm in a mirror of her earlier affection. Strong fingers turn her arm so her wrist is facing upwards and he leaves another conciliatory kiss at the pulse point on her wrist before he picks up the candle and resumes the slow rhythmic drip of wax onto her skin, trailing it up her arm.
She hisses a breath through her teeth as the hot sting of melted wax sears into her sensitive skin. The hardened wax on her stomach cracks as her abdomen tenses.
"You're doing soooo well, cutie. What a perfect canvas you are: made for me to use." He comforts her, cool fingers chasing the heat of the wax and playing along the soft edges of the coloured droplets. Her breaths shudder, and her pupils are wide as she squirms under him. Rafayel licks his lips, bringing her wrist back to his mouth and sucking a hickey against the soft skin.
"So beautiful." It's a statement, it's a supplication, it's devout worship. She pulls him onto her lips, kissing him passionately and wrapping her legs around his hips to pull him into bed after her. He dives into her with a smile, pinching the wick of the candle to extinguish it and darkening the room.