Wanting Wilder (8 page)

No way in hell she was going to tell Wilder he’d made her so horny she nearly solicited a proxy and ruined a friendship. It was one thing to combine the men when both were pipe dreams. Wilder wasn’t closer to being more than a Dom to her, but that didn’t mean it was okay for her to pursue Master V. After two years, she couldn’t suddenly change the parameters of their relationship.

CHAINSFREE: I will. Thanks, Master V. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

MASTRV: You’d be stuck in a relationship that didn’t make you happy. Now tell me about the new job and the new apartment. Does it have a bigger bathroom? You hated your old one.

Lydia laughed. Her old bathroom had barely been large enough for her to move, and it lacked a bathtub. She used to house-sit for her parents just so she could take a bath the way she liked. The master bathroom here had a huge soaker tub with jets, and it was large enough for two. She and Wilder would fit in there very nicely.

CHAINSFREE: It’s wonderful. It has a great tub and a separate shower. I think I’ve only ever dreamed about having something like this before. The whole apartment is incredible. Too bad it’s temporary.

MASTRV: Why so?

CHAINSFREE: It’s a corporate apartment. It doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to Oasis.

The screen remained blank for a long, long time. She’d told him how desperately she’d wanted this job, but she’d never told him the name of the company. From his silence, she figured he’d heard of it, and she wondered what he thought.

CHAINSFREE: Master V? Are you still there?

MASTRV: You’re working for Oasis in Vermont?

CHAINSFREE: You’ve heard of it?

MASTRV: Yes. Hey, sorry to cut this short, but I have to go. I have some things I need to get done. I’m glad things are going well for you.

CHAINSFREE: Sure. Thanks for listening.

She frowned at his abruptness as she signed off, and she hoped everything was okay on his end. No doubt she’d pulled him away from something pressing. She stared at her desktop background, a picture of a majestic white wolf from the Potter Park Zoo. The still image watched her, a wealth of weary intelligence warning her that some pens didn’t have bars. Lydia knew that denying her desires formed a cage. She just didn’t know how to escape from it.

* * * *

When she’d explored her apartment building that first day, Lydia had been delighted to discover a gym and spa on the first floor. The second day, Sunday, she’d worked out prior to heading into the Oasis building to unpack her office. Though she knew Sir wouldn’t let her go to work today, she didn’t think he’d have a problem with her working out. If nothing else, he seemed to appreciate her body as a blank canvas for his rigging.

She meant to wake up early and get in a good, punishing workout, but for the first time in years, she slept in. Most people used alarms. Lydia did not. She naturally woke between five and five fifteen every morning. When she opened her eyes, the digital display read eight thirty.

Panic seized her heart, pumping adrenaline that made her leap from bed. She rushed to the bathroom and through her morning ritual. Wilder beat her to the kitchen.

She couldn’t exactly think of him as Sir just then. He stood before the coffeemaker, both hands resting on the counter, staring at the appliance. Expectantly. Dark blue cotton pajama pants covered his lower half, but he hadn’t bothered with a shirt. Her breath caught as she took in the cords that defined his arms and back. She couldn’t see his chest, but she could guess from how tight and trim his sides and waist were that it was just as sexy as it had been before.

She moved closer. He rubbed one eye and poked at the buttons on the front of the machine. It wasn’t plugged in. When nothing happened, he went back to staring at it.

She leaned around him to reach the plug and fix the problem. Her breast brushed his bare arm, but he didn’t seem to notice. The feminine part of her bristled against the lack of reaction. Sure, she had specified no sex, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to be oblivious to her body.

The red light came on, and water hissed. He grunted in acknowledgment and headed to the table, where he plopped down hard on a wooden chair. She would need to shop for some cushions.

Now that she had a clear view of his chest, she saw that her assessment had been correct. The man was still a delineated mass of sexiness. She got a better look at the tattoo ringing his left arm. Glimpses of it had peeked out when she first saw him in her office, but not enough to be sure about the design. It almost looked like barbed wire, but she needed a closer inspection to make a positive identification.

She had never cared about tattoos one way or another, but this one emphasized his bicep so nicely. She squelched the urge to run her tongue along it, and then she berated herself silently for lusting after him.

“I take it you’re not a morning person?” She racked her brain, trying to remember if he’d been grumpy in the morning. Nope. While he hadn’t been talkative, he’d been horny both mornings she’d awoken by his side.

His gaze lifted, and she smiled at his bleariness. He stared for the longest time, his nose scrunched as he processed her question. At last his eyes narrowed. “Coffee.”

She chuckled at his apparent grouchiness. With her mind firmly focused, she opened various cupboards and studied her options. The list of breakfast possibilities she’d made in her head the night before quickly dwindled as she surveyed the available materials. In her rush to get to work, she had neglected to shop for more than just a few basics. Since she wasn’t much of a morning eater, she’d bought mostly dinner items. Good thing she was a coffee junkie too. “We need to go grocery shopping.”

“Okay.”

She’d been muttering under her breath, so Wilder’s answer took her by surprise. He hadn’t looked mentally present. When she looked over her shoulder, she found the bleariness gone. He gazed at her, hardness glittering from his icy eyes. Sir had definitely awoken.

“Thank you, Sir.”

He lifted his chin in a dismissive nod, and then he turned his attention to the tablet she hadn’t noticed on the table.

Given the lack of available options, Lydia threw together potato hash, mixing in diced red peppers, mushrooms, and asparagus tips. Luckily she found sausage links in the freezer. Depriving Sir of meat on the first day would have set a bad precedent.

WILDER SPENT MORE time glancing up to study Lydia’s ass in those cute little yoga pants than on the digital pages of the newspaper on his tablet. He cared about world affairs, but right now he cared more about how his cock responded to the way that dark fabric stretched over her delectable heart-shaped bottom as she bent to rummage for a saucepan.

Down, boy. She’s not ours.

At least she hadn’t mentioned going to the office. Under normal circumstances, he would have helped her get things unpacked and settled. However, his intuition screamed at him to make her relax before she went to work. He’d fail with her if she had an option of burying her attention elsewhere. She’d never truly relax, acclimate to the atmosphere at Oasis, and let down her guard. Sure, she’d fit in, but she would never really feel like she belonged.

Delicious aromas drifted across the kitchen. Lydia had the cutting board out. Since her back was to him, he couldn’t see what she had on it, but when it hit the pan, he identified butter and potatoes. When he’d ordered her to make breakfast, it was in an attempt to establish some clear norms. In reality, he didn’t care if she cooked, poured cereal, or refused to serve anything. As long as he had coffee, he was happy.

But he knew she craved structure, and the responsibility to provide that fell on his shoulders. When she slid a plate in front of him, full of diced potatoes laced with other things he couldn’t identify, he forgot all about the reasons he’d given the order. The woman was a born cook. He could eat this every day for the rest of his life and never grow tired of it.

Less than ten minutes later, he set his fork on his empty plate. “Pet, you are a very talented cook. Thank you for breakfast.”

She glanced up, surprise turning her irises to buttered honey. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Sir. I like to cook. I just never get much of a chance to do it.”

He’d read her correctly. He rose, cleared the table, and then started in on the dishes. “Are you planning to head downstairs and work out this morning?”

“If that’s all right with you.”

He threw a grin over his shoulder. “I’ll join you.”

Joining her turned out to be a mistake. He couldn’t keep his gaze from following her around the room. Her shirt and pants clung to her curves, emphasizing her breasts, her ass, her sexy shoulders, and her lithe legs as she bent and twisted. No matter which machine she chose, pictures of the ways in which he could tie her to it and fuck her senseless popped into his head. That made a certain member of his anatomy swell up and beg for release.

He remembered vividly the soft feel of her breast as it brushed his arm earlier and robbed him of his ability to think or speak.

By the time they headed back to her apartment, he was in serious pain. Just to be safe, he walked in front of her. He couldn’t handle the sight of her ass swaying side to side with every step she took. It might snap his fragile control.

In the shower off the guest bedroom, he gripped his shaft and thought about their first night together.

Dinner, their first date less than twenty-four hours after he’d introduced her to subspace, had gone well. She’d smiled and flirted, her attention focused solely on him. He liked that. It appealed to his dominant tendencies. More than that, he liked Lydia. He liked the way her nose wrinkled when she related an amusing story. He liked the way she tapped her foot as she studied the menu and the way she dabbed at her bottom lip with her napkin. He liked the way she didn’t shy away from a frank discussion of BDSM and an honest negotiation about limits for a scene.

When he suggested going back to his rented cabana, she didn’t play coy or pretend to be uninterested. She’d slipped her hand in his and followed him to his car.

The cabana hadn’t belonged to Oasis, so it wasn’t stocked with bondage equipment and sex toys. Good thing he’d been able to find a fetish store, and the local hardware store had plenty of lumber and rope.

SAFE IN THE privacy of that spacious shower stall in the master bathroom, Lydia slid her finger over her clit and moaned. Watching Wilder’s muscles bunch and strain as he lifted weights and worked the machines had tested her limits, especially after he’d left her wanting the night before. If he’d dragged her to the floor the moment they arrived back in the apartment and ripped off her clothes, her hard limits would have been the last thing on her mind.

She imagined it now as she rubbed harder and inched her way toward climax. Passion would heat his eyes, melting that icy blue and transforming it to smoke. The wall of indifference would drop. He’d growl and nip at the sensitive place at the juncture of her neck and collarbone.

She remembered their first date, how romantic he’d been, and how he’d thrilled her when he turned dominant.

* * * *

8 years earlier

“Kneel at the foot of the bed.” Wilder pointed to a spot on the floor, expectation simmering through his command.

“Yes, Sir.” Just as it had the night before, his voice activated a place deep inside Lydia. Now that she was aware of it, this intrinsic piece of herself fell into place, a fact that could neither be subverted nor denied.

She knelt and waited.

He moved about the room. She heard the sounds, evidence of his activities, but she didn’t know what each noise meant. At dinner, he had explained that, while kneeling, she was to look at a point a foot or so in front of her unless he told her to look elsewhere. It limited her field of vision, a sort of blindfold for beginners. She didn’t want to disappoint him, especially not their first time together.

“Stand. Feet shoulder width apart. Hands by your sides.”

The urge to look around the room pressed close, but she forced her attention to him. It wasn’t difficult. Wilder’s confidence and presence demanded it. To her right, in the periphery of her vision, she could see the bed. Raw lumber rose from each corner near the bed, following the places where posts would go.

Wilder fanned his fingers along her jaw, cupping her face in a display that managed to be both tender and primal. He followed up with a kiss that matched. Her heartbeat synchronized with his, and by the time he pulled away, her entire body buzzed with awareness. She swayed forward, following him.

He chuckled and pushed her back into position. “Stay there, Lydia.”

She straightened her spine and took a deep breath.

Wilder circled her body. His predatory action heightened the tension in the room. The need to submit to his power seized her hard. All semblance of resistance fell away. With her whole heart and soul, she wanted to make him happy. She wanted to play whatever games he devised. She wanted to pass whatever tests he administered.

He drew a finger along her shoulder, caressing the bare skin her halter revealed. He spent some time worshipping her with these light touches full of promises unspoken. She trembled under the tender onslaught. With a soft tug, he released the knot holding the tie that kept her top from slipping. Now only the tightness of the material and the swell of her breasts stopped it from falling. She took a deep breath, and it inched downward.

His forays grew serious as he stopped teasing her with featherlight touches. He pressed his palms to her skin and burrowed under her shirt. He gripped her breasts, kneading and pressing until her shirt had fallen to her waist. Then he rubbed lightly, grazing his palms over her nipples.

Delicious sensations wended through her senses as he played with her body. Soon she was naked, and she had no clear memory of her clothing falling away. Every inch of her skin was awake, clamoring for his attention. She whimpered, pleading for more without saying a word.