Wanting Wilder (Safe Word: Oasis)

by Zurlo, Michele

  His absentminded nod could mean he expected her response or that he didn’t care about her comfort. “I’m going to take a few pictures. I think you’ll be able to appreciate it when you can see all the details.” He rummaged in a nearby cabinet and pulled out a thirty-five millimeter camera. She hadn’t seen one of those in years.

  She had an objection to anyone taking photographs of her naked body. “Sir, please don’t take pictures of me with no clothes on.”

  The lens cap clicked as he removed it. “I won’t take pictures of your face or breasts. The knots are the real stars.”

  This experience topped her list of oddest D/s encounters ever. She didn’t say a word as he focused on the hand splayed against her tummy and snapped a few pictures. He did the same thing with several other knotty parts, including the hand behind her back. Lydia had no doubt he’d kept his word. Only someone who knew her intimately would be able to identify her from those pictures.

  He admired the ropes for another half hour. She felt like a piece of meat, less than a pet. As Pet, she should matter. Right now, she didn’t.

  The irony rankled. She’d asked for this. The logical interpretation of the permissions and limits she’d listed really only left activities like this. And flogging. Right about now, she really yearned for a good flogging.

  With as much care as he’d put them on, Wilder removed the ropes. Lydia gave herself a mental shake. The stern Dom seemed to have fled. She caught glimpses of the man who had held her hand and walked in the surf with her, who had laughed as he joked and kissed her often.

  Holding the front of her shoulder with one massive hand, he used the other to massage between her shoulder blades. “Are you tired, Pet?”

  She hadn’t moved in over an hour. Yes, she was tired. “I’m not sure I can sit still for much longer, Sir. I would like to get some sleep so I can get an early start at work tomorrow.”

  “You’re not going to the office tomorrow. Most of the day has been set aside for you to unpack and get settled. There’s a small cocktail party tomorrow night to introduce you to everyone.” He worked his way along the muscles surrounding her collarbone and down her arm.

  “Sir, I’m unpacked. I really just want to get to work.”

  “Tough shit.”

  She started at his phrasing, though she thrilled to his hard tone. “Please, Sir.”

  “Begging won’t get you permission to go to the office. You may ask to go to bed.”

  He wasn’t going to budge on the issue. Exhaustion settled over her, and she suddenly felt every moment of having to hold that pose. She dropped to her knees and waited for him to acknowledge her presence.

  The hand on his thigh, which she could see in the periphery of her downcast vision, drummed impatiently. After a minute that seemed to stretch out forever, he lifted that hand and ran it over her hair. She didn’t use extensions or straighten it anymore, and she didn’t crop it close as her sister did. She had been blessed with the soft black hair of her Puerto Rican grandmother. It sprang from her head in a riot of wild curls that she had learned to accept.

  “Your hair is so soft. I like it loose.”

  She didn’t know how to respond. He hadn’t complimented her, so gratitude wasn’t appropriate. His forays grew. He spread his fingers and delved into her thick waves. Lydia was shocked to find the caress echoing through her core. Though he maintained a gentle pressure, she yearned to feel him twist his fingers and grab a fistful. He would pull her hair, forcing her face to tilt up. And then he’d ravish her mouth, invading it with his tongue and unleashing all that bottled-up passion she had.

  “Ask your question, Pet.”

  Lifting her gaze, she willed those unruly feelings away. “May I go to bed, Sir?”

  “Yes. You may go to bed, Pet. I’ll see you in the morning. For breakfast, I like to always have some kind of meat as part of the meal. I don’t like eggs more than once a week. I usually have two cups of coffee. Have it ready at nine.”

  With that, he rose and exited the room. He’d coiled his ropes and stacked them on the table as he untied her. She had the feeling he left them there to remind her that this kind of bondage would be a regular part of their association.

  As she slipped into her nightgown, she realized he’d ordered her to make breakfast. She envisioned wowing him with her grandmother’s hash or homemade cinnamon rolls. The part of her soul that craved this kind of domination broke loose from where she kept it buried. It soared for far too long, making it difficult to fall asleep.

  So she did what she always did when she couldn’t sleep.

  CHAINSFREE: Master V? Are you busy?

  His icon hadn’t been active, but she was a little desperate. Wilder had bound her, spent time appreciating his rigging, and then sent her to bed.

  MASTRV: I’m here, C. I wondered what happened to you. It’s been almost a week. I was out on the road, so my schedule was crazy. I wondered if I’d missed you.

  CHAINSFREE: I’m here. New city, new apartment, new job.

  MASTRV: Lots of changes. How are you holding up?

  CHAINSFREE: Okay. I found a Dom. Pretty unexpected.

  MASTRV: That explains why I haven’t heard from you in so long. New guy, or someone you’ve known?

  CHAINSFREE: New guy. We’re not romantically involved.

  Technically Wilder wasn’t new in her life, but on that mountain, it had felt like they’d buried the past. That only left the future. Plus, she wouldn’t have to explain so much to Master V.

  MASTRV: That’s what you wanted, right?

  CHAINSFREE: Yes. It’s exactly what I wanted.

  MASTRV: So what’s wrong?

  CHAINSFREE: We did some bondage tonight. I’ve never been tied up and not touched.

  When she’d first encountered Master V, they had talked at length about her sexual history and his. He’d helped her find the strength to leave relationships that weren’t working for her. But they’d never flirted. She appreciated how he’d been able to read between the lines of all her rants to point out to her that perhaps she needed to find a Dom who didn’t want to have sex with her.

  MASTRV: How do you feel about that?

  CHAINSFREE: I feel curiously free. I know I pleased him, and that makes me feel so good inside. But now I’m horny.

  MASTRV: And you don’t want to cross that line with him. Don’t feel bad about that.

  CHAINSFREE: You know me so well. I feel like we’ve taken such a great first step. I don’t want to mess it up.

  MASTRV: It’s good to build a foundation of trust and respect before you go heaping on sex and the complications it brings. If he hasn’t prohibited you from seeking satisfaction, spend some quality time with your vibrator.

  CHAINSFREE: I know I should. I just don’t want to do it alone. I miss having a Dom take charge. It makes a huge difference.

  It was a risk. Lydia had never asked anything like this from Master V, even in a roundabout way. But her vague hint was something he could brush off without having to feel like he’d let her down. Moments ticked by, measured by the silence of the room, which was broken only by the beating of her heart. The apartment was quiet, indicating that Wilder must have gone to bed. They hadn’t discussed whether or not she could masturbate. If he caught her, would he spank her? If she asked and said, Pretty please?

  MASTRV: C, are you asking me to help you?

  CHAINSFREE: Only if you want to. It’s not your problem or your responsibility.

  MASTRV: I don’t want it to ruin our friendship. You mean a great deal to me.

  CHAINSFREE: I don’t want to ruin it either. I’m sorry. It’s unfair for me to ask you to supplement my Dom.

  MASTRV: Yes, it is. Talk to him, C. Tell him what you want. If he’s a real man, he’ll make sure your needs are met. If not, then dump him. You deserve better.

  No way in hell she was going to tell Wilder he’d made her so horny she nearly solicited a proxy and ruined a friendship. It was one thing to combine the men when both were pip
e dreams. Wilder wasn’t closer to being more than a Dom to her, but that didn’t mean it was okay for her to pursue Master V. After two years, she couldn’t suddenly change the parameters of their relationship.

  CHAINSFREE: I will. Thanks, Master V. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

  MASTRV: You’d be stuck in a relationship that didn’t make you happy. Now tell me about the new job and the new apartment. Does it have a bigger bathroom? You hated your old one.

  Lydia laughed. Her old bathroom had barely been large enough for her to move, and it lacked a bathtub. She used to house-sit for her parents just so she could take a bath the way she liked. The master bathroom here had a huge soaker tub with jets, and it was large enough for two. She and Wilder would fit in there very nicely.

  CHAINSFREE: It’s wonderful. It has a great tub and a separate shower. I think I’ve only ever dreamed about having something like this before. The whole apartment is incredible. Too bad it’s temporary.

  MASTRV: Why so?

  CHAINSFREE: It’s a corporate apartment. It doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to Oasis.

  The screen remained blank for a long, long time. She’d told him how desperately she’d wanted this job, but she’d never told him the name of the company. From his silence, she figured he’d heard of it, and she wondered what he thought.

  CHAINSFREE: Master V? Are you still there?

  MASTRV: You’re working for Oasis in Vermont?

  CHAINSFREE: You’ve heard of it?

  MASTRV: Yes. Hey, sorry to cut this short, but I have to go. I have some things I need to get done. I’m glad things are going well for you.

  CHAINSFREE: Sure. Thanks for listening.

  She frowned at his abruptness as she signed off, and she hoped everything was okay on his end. No doubt she’d pulled him away from something pressing. She stared at her desktop background, a picture of a majestic white wolf from the Potter Park Zoo. The still image watched her, a wealth of weary intelligence warning her that some pens didn’t have bars. Lydia knew that denying her desires formed a cage. She just didn’t know how to escape from it.

  * * * *

  When she’d explored her apartment building that first day, Lydia had been delighted to discover a gym and spa on the first floor. The second day, Sunday, she’d worked out prior to heading into the Oasis building to unpack her office. Though she knew Sir wouldn’t let her go to work today, she didn’t think he’d have a problem with her working out. If nothing else, he seemed to appreciate her body as a blank canvas for his rigging.

  She meant to wake up early and get in a good, punishing workout, but for the first time in years, she slept in. Most people used alarms. Lydia did not. She naturally woke between five and five fifteen every morning. When she opened her eyes, the digital display read eight thirty.

  Panic seized her heart, pumping adrenaline that made her leap from bed. She rushed to the bathroom and through her morning ritual. Wilder beat her to the kitchen.

  She couldn’t exactly think of him as Sir just then. He stood before the coffeemaker, both hands resting on the counter, staring at the appliance. Expectantly. Dark blue cotton pajama pants covered his lower half, but he hadn’t bothered with a shirt. Her breath caught as she took in the cords that defined his arms and back. She couldn’t see his chest, but she could guess from how tight and trim his sides and waist were that it was just as sexy as it had been before.

  She moved closer. He rubbed one eye and poked at the buttons on the front of the machine. It wasn’t plugged in. When nothing happened, he went back to staring at it.

  She leaned around him to reach the plug and fix the problem. Her breast brushed his bare arm, but he didn’t seem to notice. The feminine part of her bristled against the lack of reaction. Sure, she had specified no sex, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to be oblivious to her body.

  The red light came on, and water hissed. He grunted in acknowledgment and headed to the table, where he plopped down hard on a wooden chair. She would need to shop for some cushions.

  Now that she had a clear view of his chest, she saw that her assessment had been correct. The man was still a delineated mass of sexiness. She got a better look at the tattoo ringing his left arm. Glimpses of it had peeked out when she first saw him in her office, but not enough to be sure about the design. It almost looked like barbed wire, but she needed a closer inspection to make a positive identification.

  She had never cared about tattoos one way or another, but this one emphasized his bicep so nicely. She squelched the urge to run her tongue along it, and then she berated herself silently for lusting after him.

  “I take it you’re not a morning person?” She racked her brain, trying to remember if he’d been grumpy in the morning. Nope. While he hadn’t been talkative, he’d been horny both mornings she’d awoken by his side.

  His gaze lifted, and she smiled at his bleariness. He stared for the longest time, his nose scrunched as he processed her question. At last his eyes narrowed. “Coffee.”

  She chuckled at his apparent grouchiness. With her mind firmly focused, she opened various cupboards and studied her options. The list of breakfast possibilities she’d made in her head the night before quickly dwindled as she surveyed the available materials. In her rush to get to work, she had neglected to shop for more than just a few basics. Since she wasn’t much of a morning eater, she’d bought mostly dinner items. Good thing she was a coffee junkie too. “We need to go grocery shopping.”

  “Okay.”

  She’d been muttering under her breath, so Wilder’s answer took her by surprise. He hadn’t looked mentally present. When she looked over her shoulder, she found the bleariness gone. He gazed at her, hardness glittering from his icy eyes. Sir had definitely awoken.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  He lifted his chin in a dismissive nod, and then he turned his attention to the tablet she hadn’t noticed on the table.

  Given the lack of available options, Lydia threw together potato hash, mixing in diced red peppers, mushrooms, and asparagus tips. Luckily she found sausage links in the freezer. Depriving Sir of meat on the first day would have set a bad precedent.

  WILDER SPENT MORE time glancing up to study Lydia’s ass in those cute little yoga pants than on the digital pages of the newspaper on his tablet. He cared about world affairs, but right now he cared more about how his cock responded to the way that dark fabric stretched over her delectable heart-shaped bottom as she bent to rummage for a saucepan.

  Down, boy. She’s not ours.

  At least she hadn’t mentioned going to the office. Under normal circumstances, he would have helped her get things unpacked and settled. However, his intuition screamed at him to make her relax before she went to work. He’d fail with her if she had an option of burying her attention elsewhere. She’d never truly relax, acclimate to the atmosphere at Oasis, and let down her guard. Sure, she’d fit in, but she would never really feel like she belonged.

  Delicious aromas drifted across the kitchen. Lydia had the cutting board out. Since her back was to him, he couldn’t see what she had on it, but when it hit the pan, he identified butter and potatoes. When he’d ordered her to make breakfast, it was in an attempt to establish some clear norms. In reality, he didn’t care if she cooked, poured cereal, or refused to serve anything. As long as he had coffee, he was happy.

  But he knew she craved structure, and the responsibility to provide that fell on his shoulders. When she slid a plate in front of him, full of diced potatoes laced with other things he couldn’t identify, he forgot all about the reasons he’d given the order. The woman was a born cook. He could eat this every day for the rest of his life and never grow tired of it.

  Less than ten minutes later, he set his fork on his empty plate. “Pet, you are a very talented cook. Thank you for breakfast.”

  She glanced up, surprise turning her irises to buttered honey. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Sir. I like to cook. I just never get much of a chance to do it.”
<
br />   He’d read her correctly. He rose, cleared the table, and then started in on the dishes. “Are you planning to head downstairs and work out this morning?”

  “If that’s all right with you.”

  He threw a grin over his shoulder. “I’ll join you.”

  Joining her turned out to be a mistake. He couldn’t keep his gaze from following her around the room. Her shirt and pants clung to her curves, emphasizing her breasts, her ass, her 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.