Eyes On You: A Blasphemy Novella

by Laura Kaye

  And it was all because of Wolf.

  The man seemed to know her better than she knew herself. Because every time she thought, I don’t know if I can do this, he proved that she could. And that she’d freaking love it.

  He got her the way no one else ever had. Even Caleb, whom she’d been with for three years before they’d split. Which just went to show that time wasn’t the only—or maybe even the best—indication of how well you knew someone. Or how well they knew you.

  Her night with Wolf at Blasphemy had been amazing. The orgasms—obviously. But it was more than that. Wolf in full Dom mode was something to behold. The look in his eyes. The commanding tone of his voice. Even the way he held himself was slightly different—bolder, fiercer, taller. It spoke to something inside her, a voice she’d never before listened to, but that she now felt as if it’d always been calling out.

  They’d danced for a long time after he made her come in front of that couple, until they were tired and sweaty and their voices grew hoarse from talking over the music. He’d introduced her to a few more people. Master Quinton’s submissive, Cassia, who Liv hadn’t had much chance to speak to because they were leaving to do a scene. Another Master named Griffin, and his submissive, Kenna, the former Marine that Wolf had mentioned. The four of them chatted for a while, long enough to learn that Kenna was assistant director of a veterans’ outreach and advocacy association, and that she was interested in talking to Liv about providing the centerpieces for some of their events.

  By the time they’d left, Liv couldn’t wait to return. God, she really hoped they would. As Wolf drove his sleek Audi A8 away from the valet stand, he took her hand and held it against his thigh, giving her the courage to voice those wishes. “I really enjoyed myself, Master Wolf. I hope we can go again some time.”

  He brought their hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “It’s just Wolf now, Liv. And I’d like to take you there regularly, if you were interested. I’d like you to be mine.”

  The words unleashed a fluttery warmth in her chest that she hadn’t felt in so long. But she knew what it was. Affection. Maybe even something more. Probably something more. “To be yours?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he said, cutting a heated glance her way. “And not just at Blasphemy, either.”

  She squeezed his hand, not needing to think about it. Not with the way he was making her feel. There was something important happening here. Something big. Something good. Whatever it was, she wanted it. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” He arched a brow, green eyes flashing in the passing city lights.

  “Yes. I’d like that, too.”

  “All right, then,” he said, shifting his hips and making it clear he was aroused.

  Which reminded her of the only thing she might’ve changed about the night—they hadn’t had sex. And despite all the orgasms she’d had, she ached to feel Wolf inside her, for him to experience the same intense satisfaction that she had. Especially after what they’d just said to each other.

  She leaned over and pressed her head to his shoulder. “Wolf?”

  “Yeah, sweetness?”

  She smiled at the term of endearment. “I want to make you come.”

  “Jesus,” he said, shifting his hips again and chuckling. “You’re killing me, Liv. I’m so fucking hard I can barely stand it.”

  She peered up at him, wanting to see the desire she heard reflected on that handsome, angled face. And it was. Oh, it was. She squeezed his cock through the pants, and the groan that spilled out of him was a heady thing. “I could suck you.”

  “Oh, Olivia, I will definitely be taking you up on that. But not tonight. Tonight, I’m going to be balls deep in your pussy. But we’re both just going to have to be patient for a few more minutes.” He removed her hand from where he throbbed but didn’t let her go.

  So, of course, now she burned with curiosity about what he might have up his sleeve. Was he going to take them back to her place and make her bed smell of hot Wolf and hotter sex? Because she wouldn’t object to that at all. Or was he planning something else?

  It only took another ten minutes before she found out.

  Chapter 8

  Patterson Park was just three blocks from Liv’s house, a big green space in the middle of Baltimore, and one of the main reasons she’d bought a house where she did. Liv loved the park’s community garden, its boat lake, the many events held there, and the beautiful Pagoda building that rose high enough that you could see down to the water and over to Fort McHenry from the top of it.

  But Wolf didn’t guide her to any of those locations. Instead, he took her to one of the pavilions filled with picnic tables and lit only dimly by the occasional path lights. Tension thick between them, neither of them spoke until the moment Wolf sat heavily on one of the benches in the middle of the pavilion, undid his pants and sheathed his cock, then pulled her to him.

  “Fucking ride me, Olivia. Ride me so goddamn hard.”

  She was nearly trembling with need and adrenaline. She cast a glance at their surroundings, lifted her skirt over her still-bare ass, and centered herself over him. “Oh my God,” she groaned as she impaled herself on his hard length.

  His hands clamped down on her hips, holding her deep, forcing her to take all of him. Anyone who happened upon them would see a woman in a 1950s-style party dress sitting on a man’s lap, never knowing she was stuffed full of his cock. But, God, Liv was just that. And it was so damn good.

  “Move,” he growled. “Fuck me.”

  “Yes,” she moaned, bracing her hands on his knees as she lifted and lowered herself on his thick erection.

  “Been dying for you all night,” he rasped as they moved. “Been dying to make you mine.”

  Moaning, she kept up the deep ups and downs, her gaze scanning for witnesses, her mind half hoping to find them. Cars passed just a half block over and a couple’s dark silhouette moved across a distant path. On such a nice night, all kinds of people were likely to be out, though the lateness of the hour would play in their favor.

  Still, Liv could barely believe she was fucking someone in the middle of the park.

  Or that she was so aroused that she was going to have to bite her lip to keep from screaming when she came. It didn’t seem to matter that she’d come so many times earlier, because her body was winding up hard. From the risk of what they were doing. From the way Wolf’s hands dug into her sides and hips and thighs through her dress. From the curses and dirty words spilling from his mouth.

  “Christ, that pussy is so tight this way. I can’t fucking get deep enough,” he said, slamming her down and forcing a loud moan out of her.

  Suddenly, he stood them up, bent her over the picnic table opposite them, and slapped a hand over her mouth. With his other hand, he flipped up her skirts, baring her ass to the night. And then he drilled her mercilessly hard and fast. All she could do was brace against the table and take what he gave her until she was screaming against his palm and he was groaning against her back, his hips jerking through each delicious spasm of his release.

  “Fuck,” he panted, dropping his forehead against her spine. “Jesus fuck.”

  His voice sounded wrecked, and it was the best thing she’d ever heard. She was so happy that tears suddenly sprung to her eyes and truths spilled out of her she hadn’t even fully thought through. “This was the best night of my life, Wolf. Thank you.”

  “Aw, sweetness,” he said, withdrawing from her and putting their clothes back together again. And then he drew her into his arms and held her close, his hand in her hair, his face pressed to hers. “Me, too, Liv. Something in you calls to something in me so strongly that you make me realize that my life hasn’t been as complete as I thought. Not until now. I’m sorry if that’s a lot to admit already, but—”

  She shook her head. “It’s not. Because I feel it, too.” And so much more besides. All that emotion seemed like it should’ve been impossible already, but that didn’t make the warm pressure in her chest any less
present.

  “I’m so damn glad,” he said, tilting her head back for a sweet, tender kiss. “Let’s get you home now.”

  “You could stay the night…if you want. I make a mean pancake,” she said, her belly giving a little flip. Because he was right; despite the admissions they’d both made, this thing between them was moving fast. And she didn’t want to overstep.

  “I’d love nothing more than to fall asleep with you in my arms,” he said, melting her heart. Then he grinned. “And to make your bed smell like me.”

  “Hmm. I was hoping you’d make the bed smell like us.”

  “Damn, Liv. You are perfect for me. You know that?”

  She beamed at that, just a little bit. Perfect. It was the right word for how they seemed to fit together. That was amazing. But it was also kinda dizzying—how could she have found something this right, this true, this real…so fast? Could it truly be real? And could it truly last when three years with Caleb had ended in betrayal and humiliation?

  “And pancakes would be amazing. Or I could take you to a restaurant and make you come underneath the tablecloth while the waiter watches,” he deadpanned.

  His voice chased the insecurities away, and Liv guffawed. “Well, that’s an idea, too.” They both laughed. And they were still laughing a half hour later when they crawled into her bed, her back spooned to his front, while he told story after story about funny things from his childhood, and that’d happened at Blasphemy, or that his friends had done. Just getting-to-know-you kinds of stories you told about your life and all the things that’d come before you met another person. Liv adored how much she enjoyed talking to Wolf, hearing about his life and his friends and his family, and how much they laughed, too.

  She fell asleep mid-sentence, or maybe he did. Liv wasn’t sure. Either way, she drifted off smiling with the knowledge that, despite their exhaustion, neither of them had wanted to give up on the magic of the day or the amazing connection they already shared.

  * * * *

  “Knock, knock,” came a man’s deep voice from behind him.

  For maybe the tenth time, Wolf turned from the bank of computer monitors in Blasphemy’s security control room to see who needed him for what. Tonight was one of their quarterly Blasphemous Friends nights, an open house of sorts where current members could invite pre-vetted prospectives for a special night exploring everything the club had to offer. Those who demanded strict privacy avoided these nights like the plague, but the events were a main way they expanded their membership base—and Blasphemy’s operating income. And they required a shit-ton of advance work the day of the event to ensure they’d provided for every pleasure—and planned for every contingency.

  But instead of some new problem walking through his door, Wolf found Isaac and Willow and a not-so-little baby boy in Willow’s arms. “Three of my favorite people, right there,” he said, rising from the chair.

  He shook Isaac’s hand and gave Willow a hug around the baby. Wolf had always thought her name was perfect, because she was tall and thin and so damn graceful she almost seemed to float. The two of them had met during a masquerade ball at the club three years ago, gotten married two years ago, and had this little bruiser here four months ago.

  “Vaughn, my man, are you going to be Blasphemy’s thirteenth Master?” Wolf asked, taking the chunky babe into his arms. “Because I bet you’re already in charge at home.” In response, the boy blew bubbles and Isaac laughed proudly.

  “Pardon my saying so, Master Wolf,” Willow said. “But bite your tongue. What is it with you Doms, trying to corrupt my sweet boy?”

  Grinning, Wolf shrugged. “Sex on the brain?”

  Isaac nodded. “Sounds about right.”

  “Well, Vaughn does not have sex on the brain,” she said, crossing her light brown arms and giving both of the men in the room some serious stink eye.

  “Baby,” Isaac said to Willow. “You see how much he likes his penis. I’m just saying…”

  Wolf busted out laughing. “It starts that early, huh?”

  Willow rolled her eyes. “Apparently. Boys and their penises. If you don’t cover the dang thing up quickly when you’re changing him, you either get peed on or he manages to grab it in his little fist.”

  This time, Isaac and Wolf said it together, “Sounds about right.”

  “Oh, respectfully, Sirs, you two are hopeless. I’m going to go show him off to Master Quinton. He won’t try to corrupt him.”

  Which set the men off laughing again. It was possible that Quinton was worse than any of them. In all the best possible ways.

  Isaac dropped into a chair and scrubbed at his face. “What’s new? You’ve been doing so much covering here and at our shop for me that I feel out of the loop.”

  “You’ve pulled plenty of weight, Isaac. Your priorities are right where they should be with your new family. Don’t even give it a second thought,” Wolf said, truly happy for everything his friend had found with Willow and Vaughn. Wolf himself should be so lucky, which of course had him thinking of Liv…

  Nearly a month had passed since their first night at Blasphemy. And they’d been back at least once a week since. But they saw each other much more often than that, because for the past two weeks, they’d taken to spending many nights together at one of their houses. They’d have dinner and end up together. Or they’d stay up late watching a movie and fall asleep on the couch. Or they’d be so goddamned horny for each other that they just couldn’t stand to part.

  And, damn, the sex. The sex was a freaking revelation. And not just scenes at Blasphemy, either. The more Wolf exposed Olivia to, the more she wanted to try. They’d had sex in one of the bathrooms at Club Diablo, in the back of an otherwise empty matinee movie, on his sixth-floor apartment balcony overlooking a busy city street, and in her stock room during the workday. He’d fulfilled the threat of making her come at a restaurant more than once—with his fingers and with a remote-controlled bullet vibrator. And she’d blown him in a clothing store dressing room and in his car too many times to count.

  Liv’s excitement and enthusiasm made him feel alive again, making him realize just how much he’d been coasting these past few years. And he loved her for it.

  He loved her.

  Jesus, he really did.

  “Wolf? Earth to Wolf.” Isaac waved a big black hand in front of Wolf’s face, then laughed when he blinked out of his thoughts. “What is with you?”

  Unusual heat filtered into Wolf’s cheeks, which of course Isaac noticed and ribbed him about. The fucker.

  Chuckling, Wolf scratched his jaw. “I met someone.”

  Isaac’s eyes went wide. “That’s all I get? Spill, brother. Come on, now. Don’t hold back on me.”

  So Wolf did. He laid it all out there. From the way they met, to the fast way they fell, to the fact that Wolf had been questioning whether Blasphemy was still right for him before Olivia helped him find himself again. “You’ve actually met her before,” Wolf said, chuckling when Isaac frowned. “Liv Foster, owner of Flowers in Bloom. The florist at your wedding.”

  “No shit? Wait. I don’t remember you hooking up with her there.”

  “We didn’t. I didn’t even recognize her at first. But it clicked that we’d met before when we finally got around to talking.” He shrugged, his nonchalance masking just how damn special that night had been to him. The sex. The conversations. Hell, the whole weekend they’d spent together, and the connection it created. “But she’s amazing, Isaac. Brave and sexy and smart and successful. This thing I’ve found with her, I think it’s the real deal.”

  “Have you told her all that?” his friend asked.

  “Some of it,” Wolf said, his thoughts venturing where they’d been starting to venture more and more these past days. To questions of what came next… “But I haven’t laid it all out there that directly. Yet. I’m starting to get a handle on exactly what I want with her, which I think could be everything. But we haven’t been together that long. I don’t want to ma
ke her feel rushed into anything, especially because she’s been in a serious relationship before that went bad. Douchebag cheated on her a month before their wedding.”

  Isaac nodded. “Damn, that sucks. But it sounds like you know exactly what you want, Wolf. Given that, why wait? Who cares how long it’s been if you feel like it’s right?”

  Wolf chuckled, appreciating the hell out of the sentiment and the straight talk. “Where the hell have you been again?”

  “Neck deep in diapers, I kid you not,” he said. “Wait ’til you have a baby. Because otherwise you’ll never believe how much pee and poop something that little can generate. Hand to God.”

  The rest of the night alternated between speeding and dragging by. Wolf was busy as hell, working out processing glitches in prospective members’ registrations, manning the cameras, and tracking the scrolling roster of players on the floor. Those with enough clout had scheduled interviews with some of the Masters, wanting a more personal introduction to the club before handing over their platinum credit cards for the most elite memberships, and Wolf had a couple of those on his schedule, too.

  And all that was in addition to the fact that Olivia would be coming to the club herself sometime after ten o’clock, the final entry window for the event. Hopefully he’d get to spend time with her because he really didn’t like the idea of her being alone out on the floor, but it all depended on how many fires arose that needed his particular brand of extinguisher. And she insisted that she could hang with Master Quinton at the bar or with some of the submissives with whom she’d begun to make friends.

  All Wolf knew was that he was dying to see her. Because when the craziness of this night was over, he was taking Isaac’s advice and laying it all on the line.

  His feelings. His hopes. His wants.

  Because Olivia Foster had finally taught him exactly what those were.

  Chapter 9

  Liv arrived at Blasphemy excited as ever, and maybe even more so than usual. Because the vibe tonight was electric, almost frenetic, from the collective excitement of all the new people experiencing the club for the very first time. Not that she was an old pro, by any means, but Liv still clearly remembered how she’d felt during her first visit here—that potent mix of anticipation and fear, arousal and adrenaline, surrender and flight.