Author: Roni Loren

“Come for me, Kelsey,” he commanded, his voice harsh against her ear. “Show me how bad you fucking want it.”

The effect was instant and overwhelming. She let out a sharp cry that bounced off the shower tiles and rode his fingers without care or concern for how wanton she must look. The orgasm was almost painful in its intensity, all the built-up tension bursting in one explosive moment. Her fingers curled against the hard tile and she called his name in a long gasping pant, rocking into the sensations, until her head sagged between her shoulders.

When her cries quieted, he didn’t give her a second to even grab a lungful of oxygen. He shifted his hands and grasped her waist, turning her in the large shower until she faced the back wall, which was covered with jets he hadn’t turned on yet. “Lean forward. Hands back on the wall. Don’t move them unless I tell you.”

She followed his order, flattening her palms against the tile, her chest still rising and falling with her quick breaths. Her head buzzed with half-formed thoughts, but she vaguely registered the sound of the foil wrapper over the sound of the water. A few more dials were turned and the overhead shower went off, but the jets in front of her came to life. Wyatt adjusted the knobs, lining her up until two smaller jets hit directly against her nipples. She arched with the awareness.

“Let’s see how effective these really are, shall we?” he said, wickedness in his tone.

He adjusted one more lower knob and the spray of water landed right against her mound, a breath above her throbbing, sensitive clit. “Oh, Jesus.”

“You don’t get to come again until I do,” he said. “You understand?”

“Yes, sir.” But already she could feel the beginning of another orgasm building. The first a mere appetizer apparently.

His hands captured her hips, tilting her just so, and then he was spreading her, the tip of his cock pressing against her entrance. Her body attempted to resist—Wyatt was big and it’d been a long time for her. But when his stubble brushed over his shoulder and his lips tickled her ear with a whispered, “Open for me, love,” all tension seemed to drain from her. He pushed forward, and her body melted around him like butter over flame.

“Ah, that’s it, beautiful,” he said, his voice pure appreciation. “Christ, you feel good.”

She bit her lip, her eyes watering with the pleasure of it all and the feel of him inside her. The lights flickered above them, the storm still raging outside. But it was no match for the intensity of what was happening inside. Wyatt stayed still behind her, giving her time to adjust, but the lack of movement was ratcheting up her need to an almost unbearable level.

“Please,” she whispered.

“Please what, Kelsey?” he challenged in that low, taunting tone. “Tell me.”

She wagged her head like a restless mare, his stillness pushing her to desperation. “More, sir, please.”

“So pretty begging,” he said, grazing her shoulder with his teeth and then sinking them into her neck. “You want to be fucked? Is that it?”

Wyatt thrust forward, burying himself deep and stretching her until his balls tapped her skin. A moan vibrated past her throat and her eyelids snapped shut. The sense of fullness was so fierce, so perfect, she almost came on the spot—the jets holding her on the brink already. But she clamped her teeth together and forced her eyes back open. Focus. She knew from being on the domme side that delayed gratification could be well worth it. The longer the tease, the bigger the payoff. But as he pumped forward again, she wondered if she had the strength to hold off.

She stared at the water sliding over the tiles, trying to cling to her last vestiges of self-control, but then the lights blinked and the room went black. She gasped in surprise, but Wyatt didn’t falter. “Ignore it, love. I don’t need light to make you feel good.”

The walls of the shower flickered with the white lightning flashing through the skylights, the strobe light effect matching the disorienting feeling of having the man she’d so long lusted after pumping inside her.

“You know how many times I’ve thought of this, Kelsey? How long I’ve wanted you? How many times I’ve imagined taking you in the back of your restaurant, lifting up that sweet little skirt and having you just like this, bent over and at my mercy?”

The words landed hot on her, making her sex clamp around him, aching, begging. The picture he painted was one that could get her off almost by thought alone. This is what he’d been imagining when she’d served him omelets? Had she known that, she would’ve never been able to get through a shift without ruining her panties. She loved how dirty and deliciously deviant this seemingly buttoned-up man could be. “I would’ve let you, sir.”

He gave a harsh grunt and gripped her waist hard, his fingers pressing into her skin with near bruising strength. Owning. Claiming. He thrust into her, rocking her into the shower jets. The bottom one was now hitting her clit with every forward thrust. Wham. Wham. Wham. Like some relentless hot tongue flicking at her in the dark. Pressure built low and fast, the stimulation making the ability to form thoughts go haywire.

“Hold on for me, Kelsey,” Wyatt ground out. “I want you to go over with me.”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Please.”

“Good girl. I want to feel you come all over my cock.”

“God, yes,” she moaned, her control slipping.

His pace increased and he fucked into her with abandon. Now she knew she’d have bruises on her hips. She didn’t care. Bruise her. Brand her. Fuck her. He could do whatever he wanted right now. Her fingers had to be white against the shower wall as she pushed back against the onslaught of his erotic assault. Her nipples tingled in a constant state of arousal from the water, and every inch of her seemed to be glittering with bright need. Her body rocked against the shower spray, his cock pistoning into her, and her every molecule seemed to whirl and tighten. She wasn’t going to be able to wait . . .

“Wyatt!” she cried out, her orgasm an unstoppable train of sensation and brute force.

A loud, rumbling groan tumbled out of him as he went over the edge with her, his cock swelling inside her and pulsing with his release. He rode the rocket launch with her, pumping inside her as unintelligible sounds passed her lips and her muscles began to shake with the power of it all. The feel of him, the water, the heat. Her head swam.

He banded an arm around her waist and swiveled her over and away from the jets, as if he’d known the exact moment when it all became too much for her. He held her against him, her back to his chest, his cock still inside her as she sucked in deep breaths, slowly finding her way down from all that intensity.

“Shh,” he soothed. “You’re okay, beautiful. Just take your time. I’ve got you.”

The words were like warm balm to her twitching body. He slipped out of her, while still holding her upright, and tossed the condom to the shower floor. Then he led her back to the bench on the far side of the shower. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap, the steam wafting around them and the lightning still flashing through the skylights.

She curled into him, glad for the water and the dark. At least he wouldn’t see that she was crying. Crying from relief, from physical exhaustion, and from the fact that she now knew there was no way she’d walk away from this unscathed.

This man could undo her.

This was gonna hurt.

CHAPTER TEN

Wyatt carried the bags of groceries they’d left in the car into the kitchen. He’d lit a few candles and put them on the island, but they barely provided enough light to work by. He peeked into the bags, confused as to why Kelsey had brought groceries with her. It wasn’t like they could bring them on the trip. But maybe it had worked out after all because there was no option for going out to dinner now, and his cabinets were pretty bare. After their interlude in the shower, they needed more than granola bars and bananas to refuel.

The shower. He released a breath as he loaded the items into the darkened fridge. The night had not gone at all as planned. He’d promised himself he was going to handle this in a very calm and controlled manner. This kind of relationship, even if only for a week, was something that needed discussion, knowledge of individual limits, and negotiation. It had been irresponsible of him to just go after her like some overeager frat boy. But when he’d seen that haze of submissiveness fill her eyes, that doorway to subspace peeking open, he’d gone into conquering mode.

And she’d let him take over, given him leave to use her in exactly the way he desired. His own psyche’s response to it had been potent and impossible to quell, the dominant needs in him no longer content staying buried. It had been so long since he’d allowed that horse out of the stable that everything had surged at once. Instead of easing her into it, taking it slow and letting them get used to each other, he’d charged forward like she’d been wearing his collar for months.

Physically, she’d responded beautifully to it, her body surrendering to him fully. But afterward, he’d sensed her closing in on herself. When he’d dried her off and wrapped a robe around her, her words had been lighthearted, but her expression had been shuttered. He’d pushed too hard too quickly, and she was retreating. He didn’t like it. It was like a bright flag of challenge waving in front of him, taunting him. He wouldn’t accept her shutting herself off from him. The training they were going to do had a big physical component, but the real heart of any D/s relationship was the psychological aspect. Without that, it was just playacting.

But this was partly his fault. He’d been the one to move too fast, sending her back behind her shields. So he wasn’t going to push anymore tonight. They had things to discuss and plans to make anyway. He had seven days with her and possibly three additional weeks if they decided to continue the training when they returned from the trip. There’d be time to peel back those layers and find out what lay beneath.

A clicking sound from behind him dragged his attention from the refrigerator. Kelsey stood in the entryway of the kitchen in a pair of yoga pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt, the flashlight he’d given her in her hand. “There you are. I think I took a wrong turn at the bottom of the stairs. This is a big-ass house.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve put some candles in the living room to guide your way. Did you find everything you needed upstairs?”

“Yeah, thanks for bringing my bag up,” she said, stepping inside and giving him a once-over with the flashlight, sliding the orb of light down over his T-shirt and pajama bottoms and pausing at his bare feet. “Wow, you look different.”

He started on the other bag of groceries, the corner of his mouth lifting. “I don’t sleep in suits, you know.”

“Well, one wonders.”

He placed a block of cheese inside the fridge, then heard the electric whoosh of the power kicking back in. Lights blinked on above him, and the refrigerator hummed back to life. “Excellent.”

He adjusted a few things on the shelf now that he could see where he was placing everything, but spun back around when he heard the gasp. Kelsey was still in the arched doorway, but her blue eyes were wide.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ho-lee shit.” She stepped inside, her bright pink top in sharp contrast to the all white room, and ran a hand along the granite countertops. “This is . . .”

“A kitchen?”

She gave him a don’t-be-stupid look, and he lifted an eyebrow. He didn’t get that look too often.

“I hate you so much right now,” she declared.

“Okay . . .”

She walked over to the range and petted it like it was something precious. “Fuck, you have a Viking.” Her head dropped forward as if she were praying at the altar of appliances. “And let me guess, you don’t even cook.”