by Sabrina York
WILDKAT: I’m not patient. I’m desperate. I’ve fantasized about this all day. I’ve needed this. I want to come. I need to…
SAVAGE: All right. Slip it in a little deeper but just a little. How’s that?
Not enough. Not nearly enough.
Katherine growled in frustration. She wanted to shove the fat dildo deep into her pussy and fuck herself silly but she didn’t. Only one thing stopped her—the knowledge that Savage was out there somewhere, trusting her to follow the rules, expecting her to do as he commanded. That overpowered her ravening lust. It kept her in check. Knowing he was aching for release just as much as she was made her anguish bearable. Made her arousal even more acute.
SAVAGE: Nice. A little more.
She whimpered as she complied. It felt so good but at the same time, she was in agony.
SAVAGE: Excellent. Are you being patient?
WILDKAT: Yes.
SAVAGE: Good girl. Slip it in now. All the way. But gently.
The vibrator, cool and hard, slid into her sodden chasm and she groaned. The walls of her pussy gripped at the intruder and it bobbed inside her.
SAVAGE: Does it feel good?
WILDKAT: Yesss. So good.
SAVAGE: Is it deep inside you?
WILDKAT: Yes.
SAVAGE: Turn it on. But at the slowest speed.
As he commanded, she picked up the remote and turned the dial to the slowest setting—a sluggish, dull throb. She winced and dropped the remote onto the bed, just out of reach, as the vibrator kicked into low gear.
Torture. It was absolute torture. Her clit screamed for attention. Her nipples—fat and pebbled—strained against the soft satin of her teddy. Her pussy ached for high-speed torque.
Instead, she lay there with her fists knotted at her sides, with a vibrator shoved up her dripping canal, plodding along at the slowest speed. She squeezed her muscles to get a firmer hold on the beast, to intensify the vibrations, to demand the inner massage she craved, but as she tightened her hold, the vibrator slipped out.
WILDKAT: Uh oh.
SAVAGE: What is it?
WILDKAT: I’m too wet. It popped right out.
It took awhile for Savage to respond. Katherine could only hope he was in as much sexual torment as she was. Apparently, he was. His first attempt read—
SAVAGE: sdklaskd
SAVAGE: Oh crap. Sorry. Just how wet are you?
WILDKAT: Pretty wet.
SAVAGE: God. Okay. No problem. We just need to change plans. Go ahead and slip that bad boy back into your cunt. Is it in there deep?
Katherine gasped at his use of that word. Savage had talked dirty to her a number of times but he’d never gone raunchy. He’d certainly never said that. Somehow, now, it only made her hotter.
She followed his orders and slipped the errant toy back inside her.
WILDKAT: Yes. It’s in me.
It was. Deep and hard. It set up a low rumbling that resonated through her womb.
SAVAGE: Now close your legs. Tight. Take the belt from your robe and wrap it around your upper thighs. Tie it tight so your legs can’t drift open. I want you to feel the belt holding your legs closed. I want you to know you can’t spread your legs, no matter how hard you try. I want that vibrator trapped inside you. As deep as it can go.
She grabbed the belt and blindly followed his instructions. Nudging the vibrator in farther, she closed her legs and lashed her thighs together with the soft belt.
And she moaned. The sensation of vulnerability, of helpless arousal, swamped her. Although she was in complete control of the situation, he was the one who drove her, commanded her. And she knew it.
SAVAGE: How are you doing?
WILDKAT: I don’t know if I can take much more. I’m so close to the edge.
SAVAGE: Me too, baby. Let’s ride this out together.
WILDKAT: Are you playing with your cock?
SAVAGE: Just a little. I’m so horny, if I go too far I’ll explode.
WILDKAT: Isn’t that the point?
SAVAGE: Yeah, but I’m enjoying this too much. I want to drag it out. When this is over, I don’t want you to have any doubt that you’ve been thoroughly punished.
WILDKAT: Oh, believe me, I’m in agony.
SAVAGE: Baby, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. I want you to reach down and stroke your clit.
Katherine suppressed another shiver at his order but the shiver rebounded, shooting down to her tender pussy and making her muscles clench around the pulsing vibrator. It didn’t slip out this time, it couldn’t, it was firmly in place.
The walls of her pussy closed on the hard rod, holding it tighter, pulling it deeper. The vibrations—as slow as they were—became more intense. A tiny quake, a pre-orgasm, rocked her. And she hadn’t even touched herself yet.
WILDKAT: I can’t. If I touch my clit I’m going to come.
SAVAGE: No you won’t. Control it. Ride it. Touch yourself, Kat. And do not come.
She bit back a groan and pressed past swollen lips, found the aching nub engorged and sore and weeping for her touch. She stroked delicately, all the while willing herself not to come, denying the orgasm hovering just out of reach.
SAVAGE: Did you do it?
WILDKAT: Yes. Savage. I’m dying. I need to come. Please.
SAVAGE: Not yet. Just a little more punishment. Do you have the brush?
It was a soft bristle brush with a flat back and a long, fat handle. She picked it up, trembling as her fingers wrapped around its thick length, wondering what he had in mind. What would he make her do with it? The myriad possibilities made her twitch with anticipation.
WILDKAT: I have it.
SAVAGE: Good. Good. Are your nipples hard?
WILDKAT: Like stones.
SAVAGE: Rub them.
WILDKAT: With the brush?
SAVAGE: Yes. Drag the bristles over them. Back and forth. How does that feel?
Excruciating. Phenomenal. Katherine had always had very sensitive nipples, something Savage knew quite well. He was using every trick in the book to torment her…and she loved it.
The friction of the brush through her satin teddy created a line of arousal, a thread of excitement that shot from her nipples to her clit and back again. Before long, she was writhing on the bed, thrusting her hips in helpless entreaty, panting and mewling like a cat in heat.
SAVAGE: Wildkat?
WILDKAT: God. Savage. Please. Please. I am begging you! Please let me come.
SAVAGE: In a minute. Do you have the remote for the vibrator?
She scrabbled for it.
WILDKAT: Yes.
SAVAGE: Turn it up. Slowly. And while you are doing that, keep rubbing your nipples with the brush. First one, then the other. Are you doing it?
WILDKAT: Yes.
Yes. Yes! But it was so annoying to have to stop to type her response.
SAVAGE: How does it feel?
WILDKAT: I’m losing it. I’m losing it. I can’t—
SAVAGE: Yes, you can. Hold on a little more. Just a little. Turn it up again. Now reach down and rub your clit. I want you toying with your clit and tormenting your nipples as the vibrator fills your pussy. Now. Hold on. Hold on.
WILDKAT: Please. Please Savage. Let me come. I’ll do anything…
SAVAGE: Anything?
WILDKAT: Anything.
SAVAGE: Oh baby. I’ll hold you to that.
WILDKAT: Please!
SAVAGE: All right. Come for me, my sweet Wildkat. Come.
And she came.
The explosion was mind-boggling. It started as a tiny quiver deep in her womb and fanned out in greater and greater waves that shook her to the depths of her being. She felt powerful and dynamic and utterly renewed.
Transformed.
It was, by far, the best orgasm she’d had in her lifetime.
Long moments later, she was still panting, quaking, whimpering as exquisite aftershocks rocked her body.
SAVAGE: Are you okay?
WILDKAT: Better than
okay. I’m phenomenal. How about you?
SAVAGE: Exhausted. You drained me dry.
WILDKAT: Do you mind?
SAVAGE: Not in the least. How did you like your punishment?
WILDKAT: Truthfully?
SAVAGE: We agreed we’d always be truthful.
WILDKAT: I loved it.
SAVAGE: It was pretty amazing, wasn’t it?
WILDKAT: Yeah. It was. It’s just hard to type with one hand.
SAVAGE: Tell me about it. We really should use a VoIP.
WILDKAT: A what?
What the heck was that?
SAVAGE: I guess you’re not a computer geek.
Katherine snorted. No. She wasn’t. But she worked with a veritable gaggle of them.
SAVAGE: VoIP stands for Voice over Internet Protocol. It’s a communications program that lets you talk over the internet. Without a phone line.
WILDKAT: So we could talk instead of type with one hand?
SAVAGE: That’s the idea.
Imagine that. Having two hands free. What havoc could he wreak on her willing body then? And she could hear his voice. She could imagine it, deep and commanding. Masterful.
God. The thought of hearing his commands rather than reading them, of listening to his moans, of hearing him come, made desire stir within her once again.
WILDKAT: That would be dreamy.
SAVAGE: Have you heard of Trillo–Maris? It’s a software company that sells VoIP software. Check them out online.
Katherine froze. Then slowly typed.
WILDKAT: I will.
What a lie. She didn’t have to check them out online. She worked for Trillo–Maris. She could check them out in the office tomorrow.
Funny, wasn’t it? She’d loved her job from the moment she’d stepped into the elegant foyer—enjoyed every minute as a financial and program analyst. She’d just never dreamed the deadly dull software they developed would become so crucial to her love life.
SAVAGE: I have their system on my computer. If you can find it, we could be breathing heavily into each other’s ears by tomorrow.
Oh God. How delicious.
WILDKAT: I’ll find it. I swear.
SAVAGE: I can’t wait ‘til tomorrow. Same time?
WILDKAT: I wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Chapter Three
The next day dawned way too soon. Katherine slapped the alarm and yawned. She’d slept like a log but her dreams had been haunted, filled with whispers of a desire only half fulfilled.
Which was crazy, since Savage had fulfilled her pretty damn good last night. She’d never come so hard, so deep, never been quite so sated—even in real life. Especially in real life. What did that say about the man, his sizzling sensuality, that he could do such things to her body, take her to the heights, make her come until she was weak and wobbly without ever laying a finger on her?
She nuzzled deeper under the covers and allowed herself to fantasize about what it would be like to be with him. Really be with him. A visceral longing grabbed at her gut and tugged.
Then reality nudged into the fantasy and sadness swamped her. Because she would never be with him. He’d made it very clear right from the beginning that he was only interested in online play. At the time she’d merely shrugged. Frankly, she had no desire to discover he was really a short, balding troll. It was so much more fun to fantasize that he looked like Brad Pitt.
Or Adam Trillo.
With a start, she realized this was exactly how she pictured her Savage. With Adam’s blue eyes and long lashes. His thick black hair curling wickedly about his nape. His broad shoulders and muscular chest and bulging biceps beneath his casual dress shirts. She couldn’t bear to speculate on what delights lay quiescent beneath his khakis.
Oh hell. Yes, she could. She spent hours in her office pretending not to sneak illicit peeks across the hall. And what demon of torture had seen fit to place her office so close to his anyway? All that separated them were flimsy panes of glass and a seven-foot corridor. She watched as he talked on the phone, lazily leaning back in his executive chair with his feet up on the desk. She watched as he puzzled over software code. She watched, drooling, as he worked through lunch, making love to a meatball sub. She watched him a lot.
And he noticed her…never.
Well, that wasn’t precisely true. He noticed her when he needed her help with a program evaluation or a financial analysis. He made no bones about the fact that he thought Katherine was a genius. He just didn’t see her as a woman.
And that was the way she liked it. It was. She worked hard to maintain a professional persona in the office—and for good reason. No one needed to know how much it cost her.
She sighed and forced herself out of bed. Stretching, she padded to her closet, which held a collection of prim, proper and downright repressed business suits. She selected a black pinstripe. She considered a pretty mauve blouse with a plunging neckline—one she’d bought in a fit of rebellion—then passed it over and pulled out a blouse of gunmetal gray that complemented the suit. She finished off the ensemble with a lovely pair of comfortable black flats. In an outfit like this, she could be easily ignored.
Just the way she liked it.
Although she had to admit, as she brushed her hair back into a tight bun, today she felt a little different. Today her comfortable suit of armor, one that had always kept her safe, seemed…itchy. Tight. Repressive.
It was almost as though her session with Savage last night had awakened something within her, some brazen insanity. Rather than avoiding the attention of Adam Trillo, she almost wanted to provoke it.
Almost. She snorted as she poured her coffee.
Almost.
She wasn’t crazy.
Katherine had one rule when it came to men at work and it was born from painful experience. So as attracted as she was to Adam—and she was—she would continue to play the ice queen.
Then again, it was a moot point. Wasn’t it? Because when those deep-blue eyes passed over her, they passed right over her.
He was simply not attracted to her.
And that was the way she liked it.
Right?
She stopped at Jose’s Taco Shack for a breakfast burrito, one of her guilty pleasures. There was something addictive in them, Katherine was pretty sure. It called to her as it sat there in its little paper bag on the passenger seat beside her. Its delicious scent wafted to her nostrils, tempting her to rip off the wrapper and shove it into her mouth—to take in the whole thing, the thick, turgid length of it…
No, wait. She was thinking about Adam again.
Katherine made a face as she pulled into her parking spot in front of Trillo–Maris, Inc. She had to stop doing that, stop thinking about Adam like that.
She had to save all her passion, all her wildness, for Savage.
She had to keep it in check. Keep it in line.
At least ‘til five.
She could ignore Adam until then.
As though she had conjured him with her thoughts, Adam Trillo pulled in the parking space next to her. Her heart did a little loop-de-loop. It always did when she saw him. Every time. She wasn’t sure what it was about him, his looks, his personality, his scent, but she’d never met a man who affected her like Adam Trillo. She’d never felt like this with any of the guys she’d dated. Certainly not with Greg, the man she’d met and married—to their mutual chagrin—in her early twenties.
No. Adam Trillo was a different breed entirely. He was perfect. It was ludicrous to think a man like him would ever be interested in someone like Katherine. It was stupid to even fantasize about him. Stupid.
Cutting the engine of his sleek black Lexus, he shot her a friendly smile. Dimples exploded across his handsome face.
Oh dear. Keeping it in check was going to be hard.
“Good morning, Katherine,” he said, unfolding himself from the driver’s seat.
She forced herself not to stare at the way his biceps bunched in his shirtsleeves, the way
his buttocks clenched in his Dockers as he stood. Valiantly, she ignored those broad, strong shoulders, that massive chest, the way he filled out every inch of his polo shirt. Exquisitely.
Swallowing the drool pooling in her mouth, she grabbed her burrito and her laptop and joined him on the walkway. She tendered a small, professional smile. “Mr. Trillo.”
His smile dimmed just a bit. It seemed as though he was going to say something, something profound, but he just cleared his throat and asked, “Say, do you know if Sara’s back from her vacation yet?”
Katherine focused and brought up a visual of her calendar in her mind’s eye. A photographic memory was one of her more valuable talents. “Tomorrow,” she said. “She’ll be back tomorrow.” Sara was Katherine’s best friend and coworker, her partner in crime and confidante. She’d gone back East to visit her mother in the hospital.
“Ah.” Adam opened the door for her. “Tomorrow.”
“Do you need something?”
He blinked. A curious red tide rushed up his cheeks. He shook his head and smiled—one of his tiny secret smiles, the ones that made him seem like a mischievous boy. “It can wait.”
“Yes, Mr. Trillo.”
They walked together in silence to their respective offices and then, with a cool nod, she went left as he went right. She had just dropped her laptop and her burrito on the desk when a soft knock caught her attention. She turned slowly, already knowing who it was.
And yes. Adam stood there, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his broad chest, dominating her office, somehow stealing the oxygen in the room.
“Yes sir?”
