And shit… With that thought came the onslaught of another brutal panic attack.
Fuck… not now!
The crushing weight robbed him of breath and left him gasping for air. Sweat soaked his forehead and shirt as the world spun around him. Intellectually, he knew this wasn’t a real heart attack. But as his heart raced and he struggled to breathe, all he could think about was Ian and what those last few minutes had been like for him.
There hadn’t been panic on his face or alarm in his voice as he stopped midstride and said, “I think my heart just stopped.” Bewilderment mixed with eerie calm as he looked at Mathew, seeking an explanation for whatever sensation he felt that told him something was catastrophically wrong. And before Mathew got halfway across the court, Ian dropped to his knees and was gone.
It had been eleven months and sixteen days. Sometimes it felt like an eternity. Sometimes the wound was so fresh and raw it felt like yesterday. The panic attacks started almost immediately after Ian’s passing and hadn’t improved with time. In fact, as Mathew worked like a fiend to finish the tubs in time for Muriel’s birthday, they’d increased in frequency and intensity.
Not only were they an uncomfortable inconvenience, but they infuriated him. He should be able to wrestle them into submission or forcefully beat them back, and not being able to control them added to their power and made the situation worse.
But the panic attacks weren’t his biggest problem. They were unpleasant, but they at least came and went. The persistent ache and yawning hollowness in his chest from having lost Ian too soon was a constant in his life. And if his pain continued to be this relentless, how bad must it be for Muriel?
How did she get out of bed each day, put one foot in front of the other, force herself to eat and shower and work, and in general go on with her life? Ian had been her entire world, her reason for existing, and Mathew couldn’t imagine how she would ever recover from the loss.
He didn’t disagree with Lucas often, but when it came to his bright idea of reintegrating her into the lifestyle, Mathew disagreed wholeheartedly. He was glad they’d finished the addition in time for her birthday. He was happy she came back to the club where she would be surrounded by friends who loved her. But there was no way in hell she could be ready to find a new Dominant. He wasn’t even sure she would respond to anyone other than Ian.
She responded to you a moment ago.
He rubbed the center of his chest and let his gaze drift back to her as the panic attack subsided and his breathing returned to normal. Had she responded to him or was he seeing things? Something he’d wanted for so long but wasn’t real?
Warmth curled in his chest as she brushed her fingers over the stone wall and stood on tiptoes to peek inside the small alcove tucked between the waterfalls. Since they’d designed this space primarily for aftercare, he thought the little hideaways would be perfect for cuddling and maybe even a nap. Seeing her smile as she reached inside and tested the soft floor filled him with more pleasure and pride than it should.
“This is just lovely,” she said, turning to face them. She threaded her way along the narrow walkway running lengthwise between the tubs, back to the main floor. “You two really outdid yourselves.”
Rather than stopping to slip on her shoes, she kicked them out of the way and continued on to the pagoda, where she inspected plants and sniffed the occasional blossom. “I have a feeling this will end up being the most used space in the club.”
“We agree,” Lucas said. “But tonight and tomorrow night, if you like, it’s all yours. Only a few members have seen it. Very few even know we’ve added it.” He grinned. “We didn’t want to risk spoiling the surprise. So for now, it’s your private retreat. Well,” he corrected, “our private retreat.”
Her gaze swiveled back and forth between Lucas and Mathew, and her mouth parted as she drew in rapid bursts of air. She didn’t look scared. Dammit to hell… she looked interested. A flush swept up her neck and across her cheeks and the pulse in her neck flickered erratically as she ran her tongue over her bottom lip.
Mathew scrubbed his hands over his face and cursed under his breath. Who was he kidding? She wasn’t interested… She was aroused.
Shit on a stick.
Somehow, over the past thirteen years, he’d managed to hold on to a small amount of his sanity. But that tiny step she just took in his direction, along with the dip of her eyes and the looseness of her knees, announced he was about to lose the last frayed thread that kept him tethered to logical thinking or any control he’d maintained.
Lucas rose from his seat and met her by the bench where Mathew sat. Brushing a loose curl away from her eyes, he said, “Here, in the tranquil solitude of your Roman bath, let us help you reconnect with your submissive. She’s been locked away for a long time. Let her out to play.”
As her gaze tangled with Lucas’s, a nauseating thought swamped Mathew. Lucas had played with Muriel in the past. Nothing overly sexual because Ian had strict rules about what was and wasn’t allowed, but… Now that Lucas was separated, would she want him to be her Dom?
It made sense. They had a long history together. Lucas was a great man who came from a good family. He was an exceptional father and had been a devoted husband. His separation and impending divorce had taken a toll, and Mathew wasn’t sure Lucas would ever be able to trust another woman.
But he trusted Muriel. And she trusted him.
Mathew had survived her being with Ian because he met her first and it was obvious they were meant to be together. But seeing her with Lucas? Mathew wasn’t one for dramatics, but if she ended up with Lucas, he would have to sell his share in Pandora’s and never set foot in the club again.
Before he could go too far down the oh-hell-this-is-gonna-fuck-up-my-entire-world highway, Muriel shifted her gaze from Lucas to him. Her face lit with a smile and her pale-blue eyes darkened with desire as she lifted her flared skirt to capture air, then allowed it to float around her like a cloud as she settled onto the floor in front of him.
Everything he’d ever wanted sat at his feet—literally—and all he could do was stare in amazement at the top of her beautiful blond head.
“Well,” Lucas said with a bit of a laugh. “I guess that answers that. Muriel, sit on the side of your hip with your legs curled to the side so you don’t hurt your knees on this hard floor. I’ll be right back.”
When Lucas left the room, Mathew uncurled his hand, which had been bunched into a tight fist, and reached for her. After years of holding back, he moved like a rusty engine, slow and uncertain as he pushed his fingers through the soft hair piled on top of her head, then slowly, one by one, removed the pins holding it in place.
The golden locks broke loose and fell over her shoulders like water cascading from the falls. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and his heart ached with desire while his body drew tight as a drum with need. Dammit, he was such an asshole for wanting this, but trying to stop the raging inferno burning his veins was like trying to stop a wildfire with spit.
He sifted his fingers through her silky strands and drew in deep breaths as the soft scent wafted up to his nose. He’d never been this close, had certainly never touched, and he wanted to memorize every second of their time together, to imprint the moment onto his brain and into his DNA.
“Sir, may I speak?”
Her soft, uncertain question snapped him out of his stupor. Rather than acting like a calm, collected Dom, he felt like an awkward teenager on a first date with his dream girl. He cleared his throat to make sure his voice was strong, then said, “Of course.”
Check him out—two words rather than a monosyllabic caveman grunt. His voice hadn’t cracked either, so at least he appeared more in control than he felt.
She swallowed hard and twisted her hands in her lap like maybe she was having second thoughts about playing.
“Muriel, you don’t need to rush into anything. This can’t be easy for you. Just coming back to the club had to be har
d as hell. You’ll set the pace, and you can stop at any time.” Throwing a Hail Mary, he added, “We don’t even have to start if you’re not comfortable.”
The light and reflection from the pool sparkled in her blue eyes as she lifted her gaze to his. “I’m not having second thoughts. I would be honored to serve you and Master Lucas tonight.”
She bit the corner of her lip, and the window to her soul slammed shut as she dropped her gaze to the floor. “This room is incredible. I can’t believe you put in all the time and effort that must’ve been required to make it happen. Thank you, Sir, for this gift.”
Having her call him Sir caused such a deep stirring in his gut he forgot to breath. He’d waited a lifetime to hear those words from her and would never, ever forget this moment.
“I’d like to take this opportunity to apologize.”
His fingers, still twisted in her hair, stilled, and he cocked his head to the side, trying to understand. “Apologize? For what?”
She took a deep breath, then lifted her gaze to his and held steadfast. “For whatever I did all those years ago to cause your distrust or dislike of me. I’m sorry, and I’d like to make amends if at all possible.”
Her words knocked the breath from his lungs, and too numb with shock to move, he whispered, “Jesus… Christ…” through the cold, hard knot in his throat.
In all this time, it never occurred to him that his avoidance would make her think she’d done something wrong. He’d been so consumed by his attraction and making sure he never put himself in a position in which he’d be tempted to cross the line, he hadn’t considered the way things must seem from her perspective.
At his lack of response, which probably translated as a rejection of her apology, her shoulders slumped and her fingers slipped free of one another, as if she’d lost the energy to keep them interlocked. Her breath left in a slow exhale of defeat, and he realized he stood at a crossroads.
He could allow her to continue thinking she had, somewhere along the way, said or done something to alienate him. Or he could tell her the truth.
The first scenario would keep the barrier securely in place and preserve his distance, while making it easier to completely drift out of her life as she moved forward with a new relationship. But allowing her to continue thinking she’d done something wrong was unacceptable.
However, the thought of telling her the truth, that he’d been a coveting asshole for years, turned his guts inside out and made him want to put his head through a wall. Everyone already thought he was an ass, even before Lili announced as much to the entire club, but having Muriel look at him that way left him nauseous and broken.
He closed his eyes and tried to find a middle ground between the two roads, a way to absolve her of wrongdoing while preserving some semblance of decency.
However, before he figured out a solution, the door opened and Lucas sauntered in, carrying his big, black bag of tricks.
Her chin dropped to her chest as despair weighed her down, and he wanted to kick his own ass for causing her this needless pain.
Son of a fucking bitch.
There was no middle ground. There was no lying. Her knowing he had JACKASS stamped across his chest was infinitely better than her carrying this unnecessary burden for another moment.
However, they didn’t need an audience for this discussion, and if he asked Lucas to give them another moment of privacy, the bastard would probably grill Mathew afterward. And then Mathew would be lectured for not only loving his best friend’s wife, but for making her feel as if she’d done something wrong. He sure as hell didn’t need Lucas crawling up his ass, making him feel worse than he already did.
The only way to make things right at this point was to make sure she felt in his touch and saw in his eyes how much she meant to him. It would mean opening himself up, allowing her to see the honesty of his feelings. But making himself vulnerable was better than allowing her to continue to hurt.
Muriel shivered as the cold from the slate floor penetrated her sheer skirt… or maybe it was Mathew’s frigid response that left her quivering in tempo to the tapping of Lucas’s shoes as he crossed the room to join them.
Based on their history, reaching out to Mathew had been risky. But his tender expression when she knelt before him, along with the way he reverently stroked her hair and removed the pins, made her believe the risk was worth the possible payoff.
While she knew offering him an olive branch might not be well received, she never expected him to vehemently snap it. She had no idea what she’d done, but his muttered curse proved she’d hurt him deeply, and apparently, he wasn’t one to forgive and forget.
“Do I need to show you what to do with a beautiful, kneeling submissive who’s offering herself to you?” Lucas asked as he set his toy bag on the floor by his feet.
“Nope,” Mathew replied, his voice thick and heavy. He slid his fingers through her hair again, with more passion and force than before, and cleared his throat. “I have a long list of ideas about what to do with Muriel. So many, in fact, it could take a lifetime to get through them all.” He slid his fingers under her chin and lifted, forcing her to look at him. “I’m just trying to decide where to start.”
His touch and the softness of his gaze were at such odds with the way he’d responded to her apology, her head spun with confusion. Why would he agree to play with her? Unless he was simply going along with Lucas’s plan and decided to spare her further humiliation by not dismissing her altogether.
God, she was so confused, and the ache in her chest expanded as she searched for a reasonable explanation. She’d never understood his magnetic pull or her intense desire to make him happy—which fed her deep-seated need to apologize for whatever hurt she’d caused in the past.
If she allowed this evening to continue, would that pull become exaggerated? Would it be impossible to even look at him without yearning overwhelming her, even if he didn’t want her in return? Or would her curiosity be satisfied, allowing her to finally let go of the fantasies?
“Unlace your top, Muriel.” Mathew’s strong, commanding tone brought her head up with a sharp snap. “Show me what I’ve been missing all these years.”
She drew in a deep breath and considered her options. Call off all play and go home alone or give in to her body’s longing for relief. As heat curled in her breasts and belly, then sank lower into her sex, she realized she really didn’t have but one option.
There would be plenty of nights for going home alone. Tonight, she would take her pleasure.
Ian always enjoyed a slow, teasing buildup, and since that was her only experience serving a Dom, she went with what she knew. She was out of practice and her trembling fingers didn’t help, so it took several tries to catch the ends of the tie holding her dress together.
Finally grasping the thin strand of yarn, she tugged to release the bow, then slowly and methodically worked the lacing loose so the panels fell forward, exposing the upper swell of her breasts.
She drew in a deep breath to pull the bodice tight, then exhaled sharply so the loosely woven material fell forward, leaving her exposed. As the dress slipped from her shoulders, she lowered her arms and allowed the fabric to puddle at her elbows, making her arms appear bound at her sides.
Lucas stroked his hand over the top of her head. “With your long blond hair falling down your back and the white dress flowing around you like that, you look like an angel.”
“She’s a gift from God.” Mathew’s voice was so soft she barely heard him and was tempted to believe she’d misunderstood. But when she lifted her gaze enough to meet his, the heat blazing from his eyes and the intense set of his jaw confirmed he at least liked what he saw, even if he hadn’t spoken.
If he was going to go through with Lucas’s plan to bring her out of her shell, she hoped he at least enjoyed himself. She’d always heard the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, but she had a feeling that saying was developed by vanilla women. She’d learned through ye
ars of being Ian’s submissive there were more enjoyable ways to reach a man’s heart than cooking, and she foolishly wondered if it would be possible to use those methods to melt the hardened steel surrounding Mathew’s.
“Muriel seems to be under the impression her ownership in the club gives her special rights and privileges,” Lucas said, his tone harsher than normal, while at the same time carrying a teasing tone.
“Oh yeah? Is that why she thought she could interfere in my conversation with Lili?”
She didn’t like pain, but she loved erotic spankings and floggings. Something Lucas knew. They would never hurt her, especially if the goal for this evening was to ease her back into the lifestyle, so she assumed they were using her interference as a way of getting into a scene.
Happy to play along, she rolled her eyes and murmured, “Conversation my ass,” then pressed her lips together to keep from laughing.
Jeez, she couldn’t even pretend to be a brat and keep it together.
Lucas tsked, but Mathew was the one who acted. He jammed his fingers into her hair, gathered a handful, then pulled back her head. Heavy lids covered stormy eyes and his breathing had grown irregular. “We don’t have a spanking bench down here, but I’d be more than happy to serve as a St. Andrew’s cross.”
There was a bit of humor to his tone, but there was also something else… something deep and hungry and primal that she couldn’t grasp, especially considering how drastically it conflicted with his previous rejection.
“I’ll hold her in place, close and tight, while you wield your magical flogger.”
With his hand in her hair, anchoring her in place while his stare held her hostage, all she could do was blink and swallow and suck in short, shallow breaths while hoping she didn’t pass out. Being under his control felt so right and natural. If she weren’t already on the floor, she would’ve hit her knees in gratitude and instantaneous submission.
Coveted (Pandora's Playground #1) Page 6
