by Laura Kaye
“Jesus, Liv, I’m sorry,” Wolf said, his brow cranking down over suddenly stormy green eyes. There was always an intensity to his expression, but he could shift to fierce in a second.
“I’m not,” she said, shaking her head. “Not anymore. Don’t get me wrong, it hurt. But finding out that what I thought we had wasn’t real was the best thing that ever happened to me. If I’d married him when he didn’t really love me, my life would’ve been miserable. And I think I might never have left the law, which I was good at but kinda hated, to open my store, which is something I’m actually passionate about. Not only am I my own boss, but I get to help make people’s lives beautiful with my flowers. Their weddings, their celebrations, their parties, their dinners. Even their funerals. I think, given the way this world is, we could all do more to create our own kind of beauty in it.” She shrugged. “Probably sounds a little corny.”
Shaking his head, Wolf tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Not at all. It sounds like someone’s found her calling.” He pressed his lips together and his gaze went distant. “It also sounds kinda familiar…”
Liv shifted her position against the couch and chuckled. “It does?”
His gaze ran over her face. Once, twice. “Did you used to have short hair?”
“Uh, yeah, I did,” she said, surprised. “That was my boring-lawyer-hair phase. Wait, does that mean we’ve met?”
“Holy shit, we did,” Wolf said. “At my friend and business partner’s wedding. Do you remember Isaac and Willow Marten? Got married about two years ago.”
The names rushed a slew of memories to the surface. What a sweet, fun couple Isaac and Willow had been. How amazing they’d looked on their wedding day, his white tux and her white gown, both with silver accents, so stunning against their warm, brown skin. Willow’s wedding broom was only the second one Liv had ever decorated. She’d wrapped the handle with silver lace and beaded the handle jack and broom head with Swarovski crystals and tiny pearls, before finishing with a cascade of white roses and gardenias, each tipped with silver glitter. Willow had been so pleased that she’d invited Liv to stay so she could take pictures of her arrangements at the ceremony and the reception.
“Of course I remember that wedding,” Liv said, staring at Wolf anew. And then recognition dawned. The groom had worn white, but the groomsmen had worn black, and Wolf had been among them. “We did meet! I don’t know how I didn’t recognize you sooner.” Or, certainly, how she hadn’t remembered his unusual name. Actually, she had an idea. Back then, Liv had still been so stung by Caleb’s betrayal that she’d feared her interest in men had died with her engagement. Back then, weddings had still been difficult for her to do.
“Me, either,” he said, smiling. “But damn. This is crazy that we ran into each other like this after meeting before.”
“It is,” she said with a grin. “And it makes me even happier that I caught Caleb. Because I wouldn’t have met you then, and I also wouldn’t be here with you now.” Her pulse spiked at admitting how much being with Wolf pleased her, but she was thirty-one and had just let this man fuck her against a hotel window, so she saw no reason not to be honest. Putting herself out there was something she was trying to learn to do more of, every damn day.
Wolf leaned in and kissed her lingeringly. He tasted of red wine and buttery steak, a heady combination that had her moving in for more kisses when he tried to pull away. “I’m glad you’re here with me, Liv.”
His hand slid into her hair and he came over her, forcing her backward until they lay on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, Wolf’s long, lean body covering hers. They kissed and writhed, hands wandering, clothes falling away again.
“I love how you submit to me,” he whispered around the edge of a kiss.
Do you have any idea what your wedding night is going to be like?
The memory came from out of nowhere. A snippet of conversation between Willow and her bridesmaids from the room where the women had dressed for the ceremony. Liv had been unboxing their bouquets from the protective cartons in which she’d brought them. Laughing and teasing, the women had all stopped dressing to hear Willow’s response.
Ladies, I’m a submissive, wife or not. If that man doesn’t put me on my knees tonight, there’s going to be trouble in paradise.
Liv still remembered how much her cheeks had flamed at the conversation that had followed. Because Willow and Isaac, and some of the other wedding attendees, it seemed, weren’t just a little adventurous in the bedroom. They were all apparently into the BDSM lifestyle and belonged to a club where they could actually be open about that lifestyle with others who shared their interests. That such a place existed had been a revelation, but Caleb’s words had still sounded out too loudly in Liv’s head to allow her to do more than wonder about it then.
Even more than being a little embarrassed, though, Liv remembered how envious she’d been that Willow had found a man who knew what she wanted sexually—and gave it to her. Enthusiastically, unconditionally, and from the sounds of it, frequently.
Questions suddenly circled in Liv’s mind. Questions about Wolf. At various points tonight, he’d commanded her. He’d made her want to please him. He’d read and anticipated her most private desires—and made them come to life…
“I want to be inside you again,” Wolf said, blazing green eyes peering into hers.
“Yes,” she said, unable to think when he looked at her that way. Like she was blowing his mind the way he was blowing hers.
He rose and helped her off the floor, and then he let his gaze do a long, lingering down and up over her naked breasts and bare pussy. “I’m a voyeur, Olivia. I get off on watching other people, and I get off on putting a lover in a situation where other people will watch her shatter because of what I do to her.” He paused, letting those words hang there.
She swallowed hard, not shocked to learn this about him because that much seemed clear to her already. Instead, she was shocked because he put it out there so bluntly, so freely, so directly as if…as if it were perfectly normal.
And it was, wasn’t it? Damn you, Caleb.
“I, uh, like that about you,” she managed.
He chuckled. “I suspected you might. Because I think you’re an exhibitionist.”
“I…I am,” she said, summoning the courage to admit this to someone again. Say it. Tell him all of it. He won’t judge you. You can trust him, Liv. He’d proven that—with the text to her friend, with his encouraging words, with his promise to stop any time she wanted. “I am an exhibitionist. And I get off on being watched, on doing things where I might get caught, on the idea that other people might get aroused by watching me.” The words spilled out of her in a nervous rush, but still, she’d said them, she’d admitted them.
“Good,” he said, accepting her declaration unquestioningly. And damn if that easy, open acceptance didn’t make something in her chest go tight and warm. “Then I have an idea that should please both of us.”
She shivered at the promise of his words. “You lead, Wolf. And I’ll be only too happy to follow.”
Chapter 4
The rooftop pool deck was empty. At least for now. And that was perfect.
“It’s beautiful up here,” Liv said, walking past the closed-down bar and around the pool’s edge, to the glass-and-metal railing that encircled the whole area. “City lights below and stars above.”
All Wolf could see was Olivia, clad in a white towel tucked under her arms. Beneath, she wore only the red bra and panties he’d stripped from her before. A little coverage in case they ran into anyone on the way up. “Definitely beautiful,” he said.
She turned, grinning almost shyly when she realized he was talking about her. “Can I tell you something?”
“Anything, sweetness.” He came right up to her and braced his hands against the railing on either side of her. Two towels and her lingerie were all that separated them.
Lovely blue eyes peered up at him with emotions that play
ed with things inside his chest in a way that was new. Powerful. Completely unexpected. He couldn’t resist kissing her, tasting her, exploring her with his tongue.
At thirty-five, Wolf had been with his share of women. Working at Blasphemy gave him plenty of opportunities to find partners who shared his interests. But he’d never managed to go beyond playing to find a connection. Sometimes he wondered if that was because, at the club, it was all so easy, so available, so…almost predictable. He enjoyed the riskiness of exhibitionism and voyeurism, too. The thrill of it. The fear, and the overcoming of it. And those were harder to experience in a place where everything was so accepted.
Which was why he’d been wondering about remaining as one of the twelve Master Dominants there. Shouldn’t he be more into the whole scene than he’d been lately? Once, it had meant everything to him, back when being one of the founding members had given him a community and a brotherhood and a safe place to be his truest self.
Things that Wolf could possibly introduce Olivia to…
Maybe that’s why she intrigued him so much, called to him, made him want. In her eagerness and her uncertainty, she reminded him of the excitement he’d once felt. Made him want to feel that way again.
And he did, right here and now, with her.
Wolf pulled back from the kiss and loved the lust-drunk softness of her eyes. “What did you want to tell me?”
She licked her lips. “You’re the first person who ever made me feel like it was okay. I mean, you know, the exhibitionism.”
Satisfaction roared through him, curbed only when he studied her and found that uncertainty in her expression again. “It is okay, Olivia. Has someone made you feel otherwise?”
She gave a little shrug with one shoulder. “I told my ex. Asked him if we could try some things. He made me feel like I was being ridiculous and irresponsible. That it wasn’t normal.”
Anger clawed down Wolf’s spine. That. That right there was the reason why he’d gotten involved with Blasphemy. He firmly believed that anything two consenting adults were into was not only okay and normal, but also absolutely no one else’s business. Not everyone had that kind of tolerance and acceptance in their lives, though. He certainly hadn’t. Blasphemy gave people a place to find it. And the fact that her asshole of an ex-fiancé had made her feel ashamed of her sexuality unleashed a fierce protectiveness inside Wolf toward her.
He wanted to tell her all that and more—and he would. But first he wanted to show her.
“I’m sorry he fed you that judgmental bullshit, Liv. You put yourself out there and he threw it in your face. What we did in my room… Did that feel abnormal to you?”
“God, no,” she whispered. “I’d never felt more alive in my life. More…I don’t know…myself.”
Wolf nodded, the conviction in her words making him hard. He wanted her to feel all of that again. Because of him.
“Good,” he said, tugging at her towel until it puddled at her feet. “Elbows on the railing.”
Liv swallowed hard and her gaze cut to the right, toward the direction of the door from the elevator lobby. And then she complied.
“You sure?”
“Yes,” she said. “Whatever you’re going to do, I want it.”
God, she was brave. And willing to be bold. It called to those same parts of himself. Nodding, he went to his knees. “Good, because what I want is your come in my mouth.” As she gasped, he pressed kisses to her stomach, her hip bones, her thighs.
And then he pushed the red lace of her panties to the side and licked his tongue firm and flat over her clit.
“Oh, shit,” she said, going up on her toes. “Oh, shit, that’s so good.”
Her praise drove him on, made him ravenous. He licked and licked, sucked and nipped. Gripping her ass in his hands, he canted her hips forward, allowing his tongue to venture deeper between her legs, to probe and plumb at her opening. She moaned and gasped and ground herself forward, sagging against the railing until he was half holding her up. He didn’t mind one bit.
He sucked at her clit and flicked it fast with his tongue. Her thighs trembled. Her muscles strained. Her hand fell to the back of his head and held him down. All of which had his cock tenting the towel wrapped around his waist and him struggling to hold back from taking himself in hand.
“Wolf, Wolf, Wolf,” she chanted.
He sucked her harder, willing her, forcing her, silently commanding her.
“Ooh, f-fuck,” she rasped as her orgasm hit. He lapped up everything she gave him until her arousal coated his tongue and his chin. It was fucking glorious.
When she was steady again, Wolf rose to his feet. Making sure she was watching, he wiped at the wetness he wore with his hand, and then licked his fingers clean. “I could eat you all fucking night.”
“Oh, my God,” she whispered, a little tremor rocking through her. “Fuck me,” she said, her gaze flickering toward the door again. “Please fuck me. I need you in me now.”
He scooped her towel off the ground and led her to the furthest chair at the bar. He covered the metal lattice seat with the terrycloth and guided her panties off. “Sit. Now. Legs apart.”
Damn, it was gratifying to watch her follow a command. Did she even realize how submissive she was? How much pleasure she received from being commanded and obeying? Wolf didn’t think so, not when that close-minded asshole of an ex wouldn’t consider ways of giving her even a little of the public sex she craved.
He glanced toward the door again, but couldn’t see it from this last seat, angled as it was in the corner created by the curve in the bar top. Wolf suspected Liv would’ve gone along with sex standing right where they’d been, but he’d read enough partners’ expressions and body language in his life to know that she was just the wrong side of concerned about being spotted over there.
He wanted her to be able to concentrate on pleasure. And nothing but. That was part of the reason why he’d had her send that text.
Removing the condom packet from where he’d tucked it beneath the towel at his waist, Wolf held out his arms. “Undress me.”
Those blue eyes flared, and Liv couldn’t hold back a little smile. “Gladly.” She bared him, dropping the towel near his feet.
He rolled on the condom, then crowded in against the chair until his thighs hit the front of the seat. “Put my cock inside you.”
Liv’s mouth dropped into an oval. Grasping his length, she shifted forward and ran his head through the pink lips of her pussy. Finally, she lined them up and tilted her hips to take more of him inside.
Wolf’s jaw clenched at the goodness of it. “Brace your hands on the seat and fuck yourself on me. Use me, Olivia.”
Lighting him up inside, she did as he asked. Clutching the seat on both sides of her ass, she rocked her hips in a steady rhythm until she’d coated his length with her slickness.
“Fuck,” he growled, watching her cunt swallow his cock again and again. “That looks so goddamned good.”
“Are you…are you getting off watching me fuck you, Wolf?”
He nailed her with a stare, torn between wanting to reward and punish her for that taunting tone. Either way, he loved it. “How could I not? My cock was made for your cunt.”
“Oh, Jesus,” she rasped.
“Say it,” he said. “Say that my cock was made for your cunt. Tell me.”
She licked her lips. “Your cock was made for my c-cunt.”
“Again,” he said, the strain of letting her lead this pushing him to his breaking point. “Say it a-fucking-gain.”
“Your cock was made for my cunt!” she nearly yelled.
“Better fucking believe it,” he said, suddenly shifting to hunch himself around her. He hauled her ass just over the edge of the seat and leaned forward, using the leverage of the chair’s back and a hand in her hair to hammer himself into her once, twice, balls fucking deep.
On the fifth hard stroke, she came on a scream, her pussy squeezing so hard she threatened to take him over th
e edge way before he was ready to fall.
“Come as often and as loud as you can,” he rasped, using the position to grind against her clit on every thrust.
An airplane flew overhead. Car horns blared in the distance. The chair screeched against the concrete. But sweetest of all was the steady stream of moans and murmured declarations and ecstatic cries of I’m coming, Wolf! that spilled from Olivia’s beautiful mouth. He wanted in there, too.
One hand still around the chair, he moved his other fingers to her mouth. “Suck me while I fuck you, Olivia.”
Opening her mouth, she accepted two of his fingers. Sucking, licking, stroking with her lips and tongue. He nodded, loving the way it looked. The visuals were everything for him. And Olivia Foster was like a feast for his eyes. The pleasure and passion in her gaze. The way her full breasts bounced, splayed over the disheveled red lace, his cock penetrating her core.
He pushed his fingers a little deeper, testing her. One of her hands flew to his wrist, not to resist, but to anchor. And something about that little gesture shoved him hard toward release. “Take me as deep as you can, Liv. It looks so beautiful.”
The backs of his fisted fingers bumped her lips, and her eyes watered as his fingertips touched the back of her throat. She gagged but held him there, her watering gaze on his.
Wolf flew apart. He came on a shout that made him more goddamned light-headed than he’d ever been before. Withdrawing his hand from her sweet mouth, he clutched her tight and drilled his cock deep, deep, deeper until she’d wrung him dry. And then he kept going because Olivia was suddenly clawing at his back and crying his name, another orgasm wracking through her at the hard frenzy of his own.
God, he didn’t want this to end. The sex, this night, or his time with this woman.