by Laura Kaye
Chapter 5
Wolf was still buried deep inside her, still nearly hard, and Liv was still panting when he lifted his gaze and nailed her with that brilliant green stare. “Spend the night with me here. I really don’t want to let you go.”
Butterflies spinning in her belly, Liv nodded. She didn’t need to think about it. It was crazy how comfortable she felt with Wolf. How…connected, even. But maybe that’s what it felt like when you finally found someone who accepted you for exactly who you were, kinky fantasies and all.
Of course, it didn’t hurt that Wolf was seriously one of the hottest men she’d ever seen. That their conversation over dinner had come so easily, so naturally. That he understood her so fundamentally that he seemed to know she’d been uncertain about having sex against the railing. And that he was a freaking fantastic lover. With a magically curved cock. Couldn’t forget that.
My cock was made for your cunt.
No way was she ever going to hear those particular c-words again and not remember this night, this sex, this man.
“That was amazing, Liv,” he said, withdrawing from her. “You’re amazing.” He kissed her sweetly, slowly, appreciatively.
“If I am,” she whispered, “you bring it out in me, Wolf.”
“Sweet, sweet woman.” He held out a hand and helped her down from the tall stool, and then he wrapped her in the towel again. “Care for a swim before we go down?”
Smiling, she ventured to the pool’s edge and dipped her toes in. “Oh, my God, it’s really cold.”
“That’s why you’re supposed to just jump in,” Wolf said, laughing. “Now you’re thinking about it being cold.”
“No, Wolf, seriously. Feel it.” She gave him a challenging look.
Smirking, he moved toward the pool, then picked up speed and dove in over the six-foot marker, his lean body a work of masculine art. Liv’s jaw dropped. He was going to regret that. Like, seriously regret it.
He came up on a shout. “Fucking hell.”
Liv burst out laughing. “I told you.”
He turned in the water, his expression like he was half in shock. “It’s…it’s not b-bad,” he said, not selling it at all when his teeth clattered like that. “I grew up in the coastal town of K-Karlshamn and spent my summers swimming in the Baltic Sea. This is n-nothing.”
She wasn’t buying that for a second. “Uh huh. I think that’s the first lie you’ve told me, Wolf Henrikson. And I’m not falling for it for a second.” She backed up from the edge as he swam closer, because no way she was getting pulled in there.
He licked droplets from his lips. That man was sexy even when he was freezing to death. “Water’s fine. I’m a s-stout Swedish man. I have ice in my blood.”
She shook her head, still chuckling. “Yeah, well, I’m a skeptical American woman and I call bullshit.” Man, she enjoyed him when they weren’t having sex, too. He was playful and funny and so easy to be around.
Grasping the ladder, he reared up out of the pool, water cascading off of his naked body. Now there was a mental image she wasn’t going to forget anytime soon. Except before she could replay it in her mind’s eye, he shook out his short hair and stalked toward her. “Can I have a hug, Olivia?”
She backed up. “I don’t think so. I’ll take a rain check, though,” she said, giggling again.
He moved faster. She weaved to put a table between them, though his cock being out in the open was super distracting to her agility.
“Just one hug, Liv. Is that so much to ask?” he said, smiling too.
Shaking her head, she pointed to ward him off. “You keep your icy Swedish hands off me until they warm up. I warned you.”
He feinted right, so she went left, but then he bolted the other direction and caught her around the hips. She screamed and tugged, but he held fast, and then he molded himself to her. Ice. He was like ice.
“Fuuck, you’re warm,” he moaned. The grit in his voice would’ve been sexy as hell if his touch hadn’t almost been painful.
“Aaaah! Get off me,” she said, laughing and twisting and fighting. “You’re a human Popsicle!”
“Keep grinding against me and I’ll give you a Popsicle,” he said, laughing.
“I don’t like Popsicles!” she shout-laughed as she gave him a shove.
But he held tight. “You like my Popsicle,” he said, guffawing.
Giggles devolving into super sexy snorting, she kept struggling. “How can you have a Popsicle after that water?”
“Because you’re the hottest woman I’ve had the pleasure of meeting in longer than I can remember,” he said.
Liv nearly gasped at the compliment, at the sentiment, at the sudden seriousness in the midst of their horseplay. When had any man made her feel so sexy, so brave, so wanted? She twisted to face him and cupped his face in her hands. “Jesus, Wolf. What’s happening here?” she whispered. Because it felt like a lot more than what should be possible after just one evening.
He shook his head. “Something good, Liv. That’s all I know for sure.”
“Yeah,” she managed, emotion thick in her throat. Definitely something good. And it was such a surprise to her. She’d thought she’d gotten over Caleb, and she had. Mostly. But she hadn’t realized until tonight—maybe even until this moment—that he’d still held some sway over her. Because Wolf’s interest in her, his acceptance of her, his desire for her all chased something away she hadn’t even realized she’d still held onto—a little niggle of doubt about whether she’d ever find any of that after everything that’d happened with her ex.
Wolf shivered.
Liv chuckled, and the sound was all lightness amid the strong rush of affection she was feeling for him. “So, stout Swedish man. How about a hot shower before you die of hypothermia?”
He gave her a wink. “God, yes.”
They showered together, an intimacy Liv hadn’t shared with anyone in so long.
“You can have the water first,” he said, backing her under the rain-style shower head as he kissed her.
“No, you first,” she said. “You need warming up. Seriously, Wolf. Your skin is still freezing.”
“It’s more important to me to take care of you,” he said, tilting her head back and running his fingers through the length of her hair. Aw, man, this guy knew just what to say to make her melt. He reached for the shampoo. “Turn around.” She did, and then he washed her hair for her. No man had ever done that before, and it felt so good she had to brace her hands against the shower wall in front of her to keep from swaying. “You’re so damn sexy, Liv.”
His voice roughened, but his hands kept strictly to washing her. Her hair, her body.
“Your turn now,” she said. And damn, Wolf showering was something to see. He closed his eyes and tilted back his head. The water had turned his blond hair dark, and his position—hands at his reclined head—made all kinds of interesting muscles pop out and flex. “I wouldn’t mind a camera right now,” she mused, watching him.
His eyes popped open, and his cock stirred. “See something you like?”
She allowed herself a slow, lingering look. “Yes, sir, I do.”
He was suddenly totally hard. “Jesus, Liv.”
After that, he washed in a rush, toweled them both dry, and secured a towel around his hips again as she wrapped one under her arms, knotting it above her breasts. Then he guided her into the living room, where her dress still lay on the floor.
“Wolf, did I say something wrong—”
He whirled on her, his expression intense. “Olivia, get on your knees.”
For a moment she gawped, her brain struggling to make sense of his behavior and his words. But everything inside her told her to just do it. Kneel first, ask questions later.
She knelt.
The tenting of his towel became more pronounced.
“Christ, you are…” He held out a hand to her. “Rise, please.”
“Wolf, what is going on?”
“Would you come sit w
ith me, Liv? There’s something else I need to tell you.”
* * * *
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Wolf said, guiding them to sit on the couch. “In fact, you did something so right it’s making me a little insane. So right for me.” God, when the word sir had come out of her mouth, it’d been all he could do not to put her on her knees right that very second. And then he had, and she’d taken to the command without question or hesitation. “Olivia, I’m not just a voyeur, I’m also a Dominant.”
“A sexual Dominant? Like, in BDSM?” she asked, her expression not as confused or as surprised as he expected.
“Yes, exactly.”
“I wondered about that,” she said. “I remember Willow and some of her bridesmaids talking about…stuff. And then when you reminded me that we’d met when you were one of Isaac’s groomsmen, I wondered…”
He was going to need to send Isaac and Willow a fruit basket. Or offer to babysit their new little three-month-old. Because Liv’s presence at their wedding was going to make this conversation go much better than it might’ve. A handful of times, Wolf had shared this about himself with women he’d met outside the lifestyle, and the reactions had run the full gamut. Repulsion. Disinterest or a feeling that it wasn’t a fit. Or interest even though the woman wasn’t truly submissive.
And true submissiveness couldn’t be faked.
“How much do you know about dominance and submission, Liv?”
She gave a little shrug. “Not a lot, really. I mean, I’ve, er, watched some porn…” Her cheeks went pink at the admission.
“Come here,” he said, putting his back into the corner of the couch and opening his legs to create a place for her to lay against him. “I need you closer.”
Liv shifted so that her side was to his back, in his arms but still able to look him face to face. They smelled of the soap and the shampoo they’d shared, their bodies still warm from the shower. “Are you a member of their club, too?”
He chuckled. “The ladies were talkative that day, weren’t they?”
Her expression dropped. “I’m not getting them in trouble, am I?”
“No, no. Not at all,” he said, appreciating her protective instincts toward his friends. “I’m not just a member of the club, though. I’m one of Blasphemy’s founders and owners. There are twelve Master Dominants who run it. Isaac, too. He and I joke that we’re partners in both our day and night jobs. Each of us has areas of expertise on the operational side that we take turns managing. I work with Isaac on maintaining and overseeing the security systems and procedures.”
“Okay,” she said, suddenly frowning. “Wait. If you live in Baltimore, why did you have a hotel room?”
God, Wolf hoped this didn’t make a difference to her, but she had a right to know. “Often, a Dom will meet prospective submissives in public places just to talk about their interests. Then, if things go well, they might come to some agreements about what they want and decide to do a scene. It doesn’t always work that way. Sometimes, you just don’t hit it off or you find your kinks or expectations aren’t as well aligned as it seemed. Just in case the meeting does go well, I usually reserve a room, and I’d been stood up just before we met. In fact, I was getting ready to leave when I ran into you.”
“Oh,” she said.
Wolf studied her expression, a niggle of concern stirring in his gut. “Talk to me, Liv.”
“I…I guess…that all makes sense.”
“Damnit, I’m sorry if knowing I had other plans tonight makes you uncomfortable. I can only say that I truly believe this night went exactly as it was meant to be.”
Liv shook her head. “Wolf, I was on a date when we met. I’m not upset that you’d had other plans, too. It just makes me realize how close we came to almost missing each other.”
He kissed her because he felt the same way. “That would’ve been a tragedy, Liv.”
She chuckled and nodded, running a finger down his bare chest, his abs, the semi-erect ridge of his cock beneath the towel. “Can you tell me more about what it means to be a Dominant?”
“First and foremost, it means that it’s my responsibility to take care of my submissive in every way that she requires it. Her safety, her health, her pleasure. In a sexual scene, it’s my job to read a submissive’s body, her needs, her boundaries, and to create a connection through that scene that brings us both pleasure. It’s more than just a role I play, though. It’s an instinct, a need inside me, sexually and otherwise. It’s just…who I am.”
“That makes sense,” she said. “And why did you tell me to get on my knees?”
Wolf just looked at her to see if she’d make the link herself. He really didn’t think he had to spell it out.
“You think I’m a submissive?”
He rewarded her with a soft, deep kiss. “I think you are submissive. To know exactly what that means and what the expectations are within the lifestyle, though, would require training. But, yes, you’re a natural.”
“Even though I’m not shy or reserved?” she asked.
He rubbed his hand over her arm. “It’s not about your personality, exactly. Strong men and women can be sexual submissives, Liv. One of my best friend’s submissives is a former Marine. Submissives are often people who derive pleasure from obedience or being commanded. Or they derive pleasure from serving and pleasing another, or from being freed from decision making. For some, submissiveness is just what they need to achieve release. For others, it’s not even about the sex so much as it is about being in service to another, in every way that might be required. Submission is a gift a submissive gives to a Dominant, and even though the Dom gives the commands, the sub can put a stop to it at any time. The submissive is in control because nothing happens without her or his consent.”
“I see.” Liv shifted on his lap, creating a gap in the towel between his legs. “You commanded me tonight, several times. And I… I liked it.”
Wolf nodded, appreciating the methodical way she was approaching this, like she was taking apart what she knew and examining it from different angles. “You did.”
“I-I’ve never had multiple orgasms during sex before,” she said. “Is it awkward that I’m telling you this?”
He nearly groaned. “Not at all, Olivia. None of this works without open communication. That’s why couples in the lifestyle often meet to talk about interests, limits, and expectations before anything sexual ever happens.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “Wow. This is…wow.”
“Good wow or bad wow?” he asked, his gut clenching in case he was reading her wrong.
“Good wow,” she said, with a little smile. “It’s just…a lot to take in.”
No doubt, and probably even more so when a lover had once made her feel bad about her sexual interests. “I’m not trying to push you into anything you don’t want to do or explore, Liv. As you saw tonight, I don’t have to be in full Dom mode to have sex or be dominant. But I also wanted you to know.”
“I’m glad you told me, Wolf. And I’m definitely curious. I guess I sorta feel a little like Alice in Wonderland, except Wonderland was where I was always meant to be. I just didn’t know how to get there. Or even if it was really real.”
He nodded, appreciating the sentiment. “You’re welcome down the rabbit hole with me any time, little Olivia.”
She shifted again, and her voice came out husky. “You in full Dom mode must be…something.”
He chuckled even as her words heated his blood. “If I were to put my fingers between your legs, would I find you wet?”
A shiver ran over her skin. “Yes,” she finally answered.
That knowledge made him want to plant his face between her thighs again, but he wasn’t getting distracted from this conversation until she’d asked every question she had. “What’s turning you on, exactly?”
Pink filtered into her cheeks, and she ducked her chin. “Being close to you, for one.”
He lifted her face with his fingers. “Loo
k at me. I want you to see that there’s nothing but acceptance here. Acceptance and interest, Liv. Okay?”
“Yes,” she said, her eyes searching his. Yes, Sir, he heard. “Also, imagining what might go on in your club. All those eyes that might see what we do. And imagining how much more intense sex with you might be when you’re in Dom mode.”
“Would you like to find out the answers to those questions some time?” He nearly held his breath in anticipation of her answer.
“It’s a little scary,” she said. “But I think…yes. I would.”
“Then you just name it. Any night you want. I’ll take you to Blasphemy. And I’ll introduce you to anything you want to explore.”
Chapter 6
Liv applied the last touches to her makeup, her hands trembling just a little. Because she was going to a sex club tonight.
All week, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what Friday night would bring.
Actually, that wasn’t true. Half her thoughts were occupied by wondering about Friday night, the other half had been consumed with daydreaming about the incredible weekend she’d spent with Wolf.
Weekend. Not just night.
Neither of them had wanted to say good-bye on Saturday, so he’d extended his hotel reservation until Sunday, and they’d spent the time talking and walking around Baltimore’s Inner Harbor and eating good food. Not to mention having more amazing sex. Against the window again. In the sauna at the gym. Against the door to the hotel room, so rough and loud there was no way people in the hall or other rooms hadn’t heard.
Liv had loved every second of it. On some level, she’d feared that the seductive bubble in which they’d been secluded might burst once they were apart. But Wolf had allayed that concern by texting her throughout the week. Just to check in. Just to make her laugh. Just to tease.
And the result was that she’d been out of her mind with distractions and anticipation. So much so that, just this morning, she’d made an entire arrangement of red roses when the order was for pink.
