Free Wanting Wilder by Michele Zurlo Page B

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