Wanting Wilder (17 page)

Wilder approached her from behind. He slid his body underneath hers so that her thighs fell to the outside of his. The blunt tip of his cock nudged her inner thigh. Her butt nestled against his hard stomach, and his chest provided support for her back and eased the strain on her shoulders. She hadn’t realized she was relying so much on the restraints to hold her up.

Almost reverently, he secured the gag into place. “I’d rather hear your passion, but that isn’t going to be possible this time.” His statement was ripe with the promise of a next time. Of a hundred next times.

The places where he’d whipped her no longer bore evidence in the form of redness, but her skin remained ultrasensitive. With his hands on her hips, he lifted her fully to her knees. Between her legs, she watched him roll on a condom. When he urged her back down, he positioned his cock at her entrance. He split her open—his cock seemed
wider
in this position—and filled her core in slow, aching inches.

Once she was fully seated, he pulled her knees wider so that she was no longer able to rely on them for support. She rested her full weight on his lap, and his cock slid even deeper. Never in her life had she felt so possessed, so thoroughly a sexual being, as she did with Wilder. He made it safe—and a requirement—to give of herself completely. With previous lovers, she’d always held back a little, not wanting to give anything important that she feared wouldn’t be cherished. Here and now, that option had been taken away.

He ran his hands over her skin, caressing his way up from her knees, over her hips, and up her arms, all the way to her hands above the ropes. Feeling the pressure of his caress over the ropes held an erotic appeal Lydia hadn’t expected. He treated the rope an as extension of her body, not as a separate device.

“You are exceptionally beautiful, Lydia.” His honeyed voice sounded warm and tight with passion. “So soft and giving.”

He cupped her breasts. Swollen with need and begging for his touch, they felt heavy, and they filled his hands. He massaged them, squeezing and pulling her down as he tilted his hips up. Then he relaxed his hold as he withdrew his cock almost fully. The swelled head pressed into her sweet spot, and he slowly filled her again.

This deliberate torture felt so sinfully good. It triggered every nerve ending from her core to her arms. The only thoughts she could hold in her head were pleas for more. He held her in a state of perpetual bliss. She wanted him to go faster, and she wanted him to never stop.

Then he released her breasts. His powerful thighs flexed under her as he spread her wider. Behind her gag, she moaned. He pinched her nipple and her clit at the same time. The harsh sting took her by surprise, ripping her from the calm place of pleasure he’d lulled her into. She tried to wiggle away from the exquisite pain, but he slapped her breast and gripped her sensitive nub even harder.

The unexpected violence drove her over the edge, and she came in a rush of molten heat. Ignoring her climax, Wilder tilted her hips back and fucked her harder. His wide hands and strong fingers were everywhere, caressing her skin with demanding strokes, pinching her tender places, and crushing her body to his.

In her ear, she heard the steady stream of his praise. She was beautiful, lush, and soft. Her cunt welcomed him, held him, and milked him. He loved her curves, her breasts, and the silky feel of her skin. She pulsed around him in time to his thrusts, which drove the intensity higher and made her orgasm spiral out of control.

She came again. This time he grunted and slowed his pace. Her nerve endings protested everywhere he touched, begging a reprieve he wasn’t inclined to give. Even his slow fucking didn’t last long. Soon he was back to pistoning his hips. She’d become so slick that she didn’t know if sweat or her juices sealed her body to his. He put his hand between her legs at the point where they came together, holding her swollen tissues captive and guiding his cock back into her pussy with each lengthening thrust.

The sensations were too much. She felt consumed and treasured, more feminine and alive than ever. Another climax ripped through her, and she screamed as a force she couldn’t hope to handle crashed over her body, consuming her whole.

She was aware of Wilder’s cries as he came, of the tender way he murmured words of praise and affection as he loosened the ropes around her wrists, and of the heat of his body as he held her close to him. Her heartbeat synchronized with his, and she reveled in his embrace until she fell asleep.

* * * *

Present day

Lydia breathed through the feelings coursing through her system. Bondage turned her on. So what? Sex wasn’t part of the deal. Wilder didn’t seem affected by her all that much. Sure, he’d been hard when he’d punished her earlier, but anything could have caused that. Right?

One thing was certain: she couldn’t afford to fall for him again. She’d mistaken his skill as a Dom for something more once before, and the aftereffects had kept her from trusting another man for far too long. It was time to move forward and think about life after Wilder.

Later, after Wilder had released her, she fired up her laptop to see if Master V was around. He was.

CHAINSFREE: Master V, please explain to me why it’s so hard to move on from my first Dom. He’s back in my life, and I find myself having similar feelings for him.

MASTRV: So your new guy isn’t new after all?

CHAINSFREE: Yes and no. He’s the same person I met eight years ago on spring break, but he’s different. Harder, more reserved. I can see him abandoning me just like he did before.

The screen remained blank for a little while, the idle cursor blinking with maddening regularity. So what if this was the same man? They were both older and wiser. She’d said he was harder and more reserved, but she had changed in the same ways. So why did she yearn for more from Wilder? Hadn’t she learned her lesson well enough the first time?

MASTRV: The person who introduces us to something we love almost always secures a prominent place in our psyche. I remember my first sub fondly. Our relationship didn’t work out, but when I see her today, I still fall under her spell. I have to remind myself why things didn’t work out between us. Those factors haven’t changed. Do you have unresolved feelings?

CHAINSFREE: I must. I think it would be easier if more things about him had changed. But he’s the same person—intense, handsome, intelligent. He has a great personality, and he’s a gifted rigger. Except for this distance between us, there’s nothing I don’t like about him.

MASTRV: Does he feel the same way about you?

Did he? Did it matter? She was too afraid of rejection and abandonment to seriously consider acting on her feelings. After all, she had to work with him for the next however many years. In that time, he would likely meet somebody special and cherish her with all the reverence Lydia wished he would shower on her. On the screen, Wilder sounded perfect. There was no reason to keep her feelings secret. But in her heart, she couldn’t get past the fact he’d stood her up all those years ago. She’d been so sure of him then, and she’d been wrong. Now she wasn’t sure, and she was reluctant to take another chance.

CHAINSFREE: He offered friendship. That was the original deal. He’s willing to tie me up and flog me, but nothing else. This morning, I thought for a second he might be turned on by our session, but I’m not sure.

MASTRV: In any relationship—friendship or romantic—communication and negotiation are important. It sounds like you need to sit down and have a heart-to-heart with him.

That was not going to happen. Lydia didn’t have a yen to humiliate herself. She shook her head vigorously.

CHAINSFREE: No way. I can’t put myself out there like that again. It still hurts to think about what he did to me.

MASTRV: You never told me exactly what happened to cause that relationship to end. You said he abandoned you. From the way you describe him, I can’t see that happening. Are you sure you have the whole story?

Lydia blinked at Master V’s message. She hadn’t described Wilder in detail. Calling him handsome and intelligent and intense were general terms anybody who liked another person would use, regardless of their accuracy. They were opinions intended to communicate what she liked about him. So how had Master V arrived at that conclusion?

Last night he’d said he was familiar with Oasis, and then he’d abruptly signed off. It wasn’t the first time either of them had ended a conversation quickly—life happened, and sometimes conversations needed to end to attend to other things. But this seemed too coincidental. For the first time, she felt distrustful of Master V.

But she didn’t have the courage to come out and ask him how familiar he was with Oasis.

CHAINSFREE: I’m sure. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m probably just reacting to some good bondage. It’ll fade once we’re finished with this.

MASTRV: Finished? Does it have to end?

CHAINSFREE: This was only ever supposed to be temporary, probably until the weekend. Oh well. I’m tired, so I’m heading to bed.

It was probably apparent that she was fleeing the conversation, but she didn’t care. The next time she talked to him, she knew she would have to come right out and ask him questions she wasn’t sure she wanted answered. She thanked Master V for his time and advice, but thoughts of Wilder preyed on her mind, robbing her of sleep.

Chapter Eight

Lydia stood at Wilder’s door, her gaze downcast. He hadn’t consented to dropping protocol at work, so she had to wait for him to acknowledge her. Because she wasn’t thrilled about the idea of submitting at the office, she made compromises like this. She wouldn’t get on her knees, but she would wait unobtrusively for him to notice her.

Unlike her office, his was quite small—the smallest space in the building. Isla had told her it was due to the fact that he preferred to work from home. Macy Burke didn’t see the sense in wasting space on somebody who was rarely there.

It had a window with a view of the café across the street. Her office looked out on the other side, which had a large community park. He’d shoved his desk against that wall, which meant his back was to the entryway. Still, he seemed to know the moment she paused in his door.

“Come in, Pet. Let me finish this, and I’ll be right with you.” He indicated a chair pushed up against the wall next to him. She sat there. He tapped a few keys on his laptop, and then he swiveled his seat to face her. His knee brushed against her thigh, but he didn’t shift to sever the contact. She was glad. At home he almost never touched her except when ropes were involved. Those encounters invariably left her aching for more.

He dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. The first few buttons were open to reveal the collar of the white cotton shirt he wore underneath. It clung to him, defining his shoulders, arms, and chest in a way that made him look like a displaced lumberjack. When he looked at her, those clear blue eyes seemed to see into her soul. The sounds of people in the hall and other offices faded.

“How can I help you?”

She had a request, and she wasn’t sure how he was going to take it. Over the past few days, they’d spent most of their time together. Even at the office, he stopped by frequently just to check on her. At home they shared meals that couldn’t help but be intimate. Afterward he would bind her. She hadn’t asked for a session since that first night. Curiously she was handling the stress better than she thought she would. Part of her wondered if she would feel the same way once the wish was finished and she was alone in the evenings. She didn’t feel like she had Master V to fall back on once this was over. He’d tried contacting her a few times, but she hadn’t responded to his queries. She didn’t want to confront him, but she couldn’t fool herself into thinking he wasn’t somehow acquainted with Wilder. She needed answers. Eventually she would have to find the courage to ask those delicate questions.

Taking a deep breath, she plunged in. “Sir, Isla and a bunch of other people are heading over to Elmhurst after work tonight.” It was a great chance to get to know people outside the work environment. Lydia had been strangely flattered to get the invitation. Everybody seemed to have accepted that she belonged to Wilder, at least temporarily.

“I know.” He smiled. “You have permission to take the night off.”

“You know?” Lydia frowned. Had Isla asked Wilder for permission before asking Lydia to join them, or had Wilder suggested the night out?

“Yeah.” He took her hands in his and massaged her palms with his thumbs. After he untied her every night, he invariably massaged any muscles he thought might be sore or tight. The man was gifted with his hands. Her shoulders relaxed a bit as he continued. “They do it every Friday. I was hoping you’d want to go.”

For someone who expressed hope, he didn’t look all that pleased, and he didn’t meet her eyes for more than two seconds before turning away.

“Sir, is something wrong?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Isla will make sure you get home safe and sound. We’ll suspend protocol until tomorrow. You’re free to have fun.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

* * * *

Elmhurst sounded like the name of a funeral home, but it turned out to be a restaurant that turned into a bar on weekend nights. Lydia had eaten lunch there once that week. The food was typical bar fare. Nothing fancy was happening in that kitchen. Still, it was one of the only places open in town after eight, so it earned the title of most popular hangout by default.

Isla had taken Lydia home to change into something more conducive to relaxing. She seemed disappointed when Lydia emerged from her room wearing jeans and a baggy tunic. It looked good, but it wasn’t sexy by any stretch of the imagination. If Wilder was going to be there, she might have switched out the jeans for leggings, and she would probably have chosen high heels instead of flats. She didn’t need Master V to clarify the situation. Her wish would be over very soon, and she had a limited amount of time to make an impression on Wilder.