Author: Roni Loren

“I need to discuss limits and boundaries with you, Kelsey. I want to know where your lines are so that I don’t harm you. We need a safe word.”

She nodded in his hand, and he released her chin.

“But right now I don’t have the patience for that.” He reached for the buttons on her blouse, pulling them free, and pushing the garment off her shoulders. The material hit the tile with a wet smack. “I’ve spent morning after morning in that cafe, talking to you, watching you, aching for you. I sit there getting no work done because all I can think about are the filthy, deviant fantasies I conjure up about you. You drive me to distraction, love. And I’ve spent one too many nights in this very shower, taking my cock in my hand and imagining it was you around me instead of my fist.”

She closed her eyes, his name a soft whisper across her lips.

He reached for the waistband of her jeans, dragging her against him, his voice low. “And what I’m about to do has nothing to do with training or our deal. I want . . . need to fuck you before I lose my goddamned mind. And I need to do it my way. So if you don’t want that, say so. And if I do something you aren’t okay with, tell me to stop. That’s all the safe word you need right now. Even once we establish one, I will always listen to the word no. Do you understand?”

Something seemed to open in her expression, like a flower unfurling for the sun, and without a word, she met his eyes and worked the button and zipper on her jeans. The slow grinding sound of the zipper’s teeth was one of the sweetest noises Wyatt could ever remember hearing. Then, her cold little fingers were encircling his wrist and dragging his palm down beneath the thin satin of her panties. Hot, damp heat coated his fingers, and he groaned.

“I’m all yours, Wyatt,” she said softly. “I trust you. And you aren’t the only one who’s gotten off on fantasies about the other.”

She reached out and ran her hand along the length of his erection, which was now prominent against his wet slacks. His eyelids went half-mast, pleasure at the simple touch vibrating through him like a sonic boom.

“Take off the rest of your clothes,” he rasped.

“Yes, sir,” she said, her voice heavy with her own desire now.

He slipped his hand from her and brought his fingers to his lips, tasting her arousal as he stepped back to take in the full sight of her disrobing. God, every little part of her was even sweeter than he’d imagined—her taste, the scent of her skin, the soft want in her eyes. He didn’t deserve this, but hell if he wasn’t going to enjoy the unexpected gift.

Her focus stayed locked on him, her eyes flaring as he pulled his fingers from his mouth, and she tugged her boots off. Then, without any hesitation or modesty, she stripped out of her jeans and panties and then unhooked her bra. The lacy scrap fell to the floor. She stood before him, gloriously naked, and lowered her lashes. Waiting. Submissive.

His.

As Wyatt stepped forward, he felt the last semblance of resistance disintegrate inside him, like a flame to parchment. The man he used to be, the one he’d locked away inside himself, rose up from the shadows of his past and grabbed hold of the reins.

Dominant. Determined.

And ravenous.

God help them both.

CHAPTER NINE

Kelsey watched the change come over Wyatt with a touch of awe, his cool reserve switching to something wicked, predatory—a heavy coat falling away and revealing what lurked beneath. His laser-blue eyes devoured every inch of her naked body, raking over her in a way that made everything in her tighten and ache. And, to her relief, no fear or hesitation welled up in her. All the worries that were present that night preparing for Colby were blessedly absent. Instead, her chilled bones began to warm as he stepped closer.

“Undress me,” he said, his deep voice like a stroke to her skin.

“Yes, sir.” She lifted her hands to find them shaking ever so slightly and carefully worked the buttons on his wet dress shirt. She’d already been shamelessly staring at the ripples and bumps beneath the thin material, but pushing the shirt open and seeing his naked chest had her tongue pressing to the roof of his mouth. Sweet baby Jesus.

As she suspected, he was honed and hard—the exquisite body of an athlete hiding behind the trappings of a businessman’s attire. A dark smattering of chest hair tracked across his pecs and narrowed to a line down his abdomen, disappearing below his belt. She had the urge to lick his damp skin, to taste those flat nipples, and to trace that line downward. But he hadn’t given her permission, and she knew the rules.

She traced her hands down to his belt buckle, slowly dragging the leather through the metal, enjoying the way his cock twitched behind the fabric of his pants. Soon he’d be inside her, laying claim to her. Her sex clenched at the image, her body begging for what she’d so long imagined. What would it be like to be at his mercy? To give in to his will? No longer feeling patient, she unfastened his button and pulled down the zipper, getting onto her knees and pushing his pants and boxer briefs down in one swift motion.

His cock bobbed free, long and thick and so fucking gorgeous that she almost couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and caressing the sure-to-be-silky skin. She knew most women wouldn’t describe a man’s erection as such. But Kelsey couldn’t help but appreciate the pure primitive beauty of Wyatt’s arousal. Every part of him called to her.

“I like the way you’re looking at me, love.”

“May I touch you?” she asked, a little surprised by the breathlessness in her voice. Hell, she sounded like one of her subs, desperate and pleading. But she couldn’t bank her natural reaction to him.

“Yes.”

She rose up on her knees and took him in her hand, the heat of him almost searing her still-cold hands. He tensed a bit, and she winced, releasing him. “I’m sorry. My hands . . .”

He threaded his fingers along the back of her damp hair. “Then don’t use your hands.”

He guided her forward and she closed her eyes, dragging her cheek along the length of him, the smooth warmth sending a ripple of unadulterated desire through her. He loosened his grip on her, giving her free rein. She nuzzled the trimmed hair at the base of his cock, his masculine scent like a jolt of adrenaline to her own arousal, then she dipped down and ran her lips along his sac, earning a deep groan from him.

“Enough, love,” he said, his voice strained. “I promise to give you full access to explore and taste as you please at some point. But right now, I need something other than your pretty mouth.”

Reluctantly, she pulled away and lowered back to the floor to tug off his shoes and socks so she could remove his pants. He took her hand and helped her back to her feet, then tugged her against him. Steam rolled out from the top of the shower, cascading around them as he pressed a kiss to her mouth. The chill from their stint in the rain became more and more of a distant memory as his palms roamed her back and his tongue worked a slow, sensual dance against hers.

Rain pinged against the skylights, and time seemed to slow as he grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her against him, holding her without breaking away from the kiss. His cock pressed against her belly, and her soft whimper was one of lost desperation.

He pulled back for a moment, his gaze tracing over her face, as if he didn’t quite believe she was here in his bathroom, naked and wrapped around him. She knew the feeling. “Water’s ready.”

And so was she. He set her back on her feet and pulled open the shower door. Jets were blasting from more than one spot, and the main showerhead was directly over top—raining down like the storm outside. He guided her in, the water blissfully warm against her, and laid a gentle kiss on her lips.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. “Don’t get started without me.”

“Ha. I don’t know.” She turned into the water. “These showerheads look like they could be mighty effective. And you did make me wait all week . . .”

He grinned and smacked her ass with a sharp but playful blow that sent water droplets flying. “I assure you your patience will be well rewarded.”

He slipped out of the bathroom for a few seconds, and she tilted her head back, enjoying the spray and steam, relishing the fact that she felt so comfortable here with him. All week she had built up tonight, worrying that things would be awkward or practiced or formal. Worried that their worlds were too different to ever come together on the same plane. Worried that all she’d endured last year would come rushing back once he slipped into the dominant role. But the minute he’d put his hands on her, all those anxieties had evaporated into a haze of Oh, yes. This.

Cool palms slid along her waist, startling her for a second. She opened her eyes and leaned back into Wyatt. “Everything okay?”

He kissed along her shoulder, working his way toward her neck as his hand reached out and adjusted the cascade of water to a more manageable level. “It’s better now that I’m in here with you. Just wanted to make sure we had everything we need.”

She glanced at the shelf of shampoo and soap and noticed that he’d added a foil packet and a bottle of lubricant. “How very thoughtful, Mr. Austin.”

“Mmm.” He grabbed the soap, sudsing his hands, then moved his palms along her ribcage in slow, methodical circles. His cock pressed against her back, a hot promise. “Is it wrong that I love hearing you call me that when we’re like this?”

She tipped her head back against his shoulder as his hands made their way up to the bottom curves of her breasts. He dragged the slippery suds up and over her nipples, massaging and gently pinching. She groaned as a fresh wave of heat flooded her sex. “Wrong? No. Dirty? Maybe.”

He chuckled, low and dark.

“And I have to tell you,” she said, arching into his touch. “You’re not going to need any lube if you keep doing this.”

He pinched her nipples a bit harder, making them go dark pink and hard beneath the soap suds. “Is that right? You’re that wet for me already?”

“I’ve been wet for you since I left you last week, sir. And even before then.”

A low sound of approval passed his lips, and he traced one hand down her side, finding his way to the curve of her ass. He backed up a bit, sliding his hand between them and dragging the soap along her crack. “I don’t think it’s your place to tell me what I may or may not need to use on you, love.”

Hot goose bumps tightened her skin as his finger found her sensitive back entrance, teasing lightly. Her knees went liquid, and she couldn’t hold back the soft, achy gasp.

“See,” he said against her ear, “our training time together is going to be about exploring you, finding out what buttons get you to make that noise you just did, what I can tease and reward you with. Plus, I’ve been thinking about this ass way too long to not touch it now that I have you here.”

The tip of his finger, still slippery with soap, pushed gently inside, sending a wash of sensation across her nerve endings. Her clit pulsed in time with his ever so slight movements. Her hand went out in front her, bracing herself against the shower wall—both to keep herself steady and to stop her from relieving the pressure in her clit. She’d done anal play a time or two before, but the guys she’d been with had never had any finesse about it. And by some miracle, Davis hadn’t violated her there. But somehow Wyatt had instantly distilled her most forbidden and indulgent hot spot. He moved his other hand between her thighs, gliding over her mound and providing adept pressure. Then he plunged the fingertip in her backside a little deeper.

She moaned hard then, yearning. She’d gone a week with no orgasm, a week filled with dirty, delicious Wyatt fantasies. And she’d gone a year without the real thing. She was feeling every bit of that deprivation now. Her other hand landed on the wall, fully braced now. Water sluiced over her as she rocked into Wyatt’s dual touch. “Wyatt, please . . .”