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  “Oh. Oohh.” Her head rolled back, baring those beautiful breasts to his hungry gaze. She fisted her hands at her sides, every inch of her body tensing.

  Shit.

  Walker took a step forward. Then another. In a few short seconds, he was close enough to feel the heat rising off her skin. Her face was aimed at the ceiling, the long, elegant lines of her neck drawing his gaze downward. To the points of her nipples, the flat of her stomach and the movement she made against the vibrating crotch of her underwear—seeking more friction, but getting none.

  His fingers itched to explore, but there was something about touching her that he knew would send him over the line of no return. He couldn’t do that just yet.

  Walker pressed the remote again, and the buzzing stopped. She whimpered her response, flexing her hands into fists, and rolled her head back to face him before opening her eyes.

  If she was surprised to see him so close, she didn’t reveal it. She didn’t balk under his scrutiny, either, as he took her in.

  Her pupils were dilated, a healthy flush stretching across her ivory skin. The urge to touch her was almost too much bear, but he was long practiced in resisting said urge, and could wait a little longer.

  Walker leaned forward. “Into the swing.”

  Sasha nodded and turned, her movements slow and unsure, as though she doubted her legs could hold her.

  Because he could, he triggered the remote again.

  Sasha gasped and stumbled.

  When she didn’t move again, he said, “I don’t recall telling you to stop.”

  A soft moan tore through the air. Sasha drew in a long breath. “You’re mean.”

  He couldn’t help but grin at that. “Believe me when I tell you this is nothing. And if you keep talking, you’re going to be punished.” He ran a finger over the remote, toying with its intensity setting. “Get into the swing, Sash.”

  “God…”

  “Now.”

  Sasha shot him a glare, but did as she was told.

  His swing was one he often saw marketed to novices, due to its back support. Walker had a host of others, but he’d chosen this one deliberately for her, and if he were being honest with himself, for him, too, as it freed his hands to play elsewhere. A stretch of nylon fabric made up the body of the swing, against which Sasha reclined as she situated herself. Her feet went into the stirrups, her hands to the handles above her.

  The way she moved was like something out of a dream. No hesitation. No concern. While she had taken her time to examine everything, she didn’t once look at him and arch an eyebrow, or cross her arms and shiver in discomfort.

  Now, her legs spread for him, her body his to explore…

  Yeah. Time to accept this was real.

  “Stay there,” he said, his voice rougher than he would have liked. “Keep your hands on the handles. Do not touch yourself.”

  Her lips parted, and he saw the question coming.

  “Do you think I won’t punish you because this is your first time?”

  The glare she wore intensified, but she didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. He heard her loud and clear.

  And, as always, she drove him out of his mind.

  Walker forced himself to turn from her, released a shaking breath, then crossed the room to the wall-length cabinets.

  Get it together.

  There was knowing something and experiencing it. Sasha was no different.

  He’d always known. Now…

  He held himself by the cabinets for a moment, trying to calm himself. His cock was not accustomed to him ignoring the image of Sasha splayed for him, and the fact that it was not confined just to his imagination had every nerve in his body working on overdrive.

  But he had to get it together. This wasn’t about him.

  She hadn’t asked him to love her.

  Walker busied himself for a moment or so longer than needed, sorting through his collection. The rhythm of the vibrator pulsed behind him, punctuated with Sasha’s frenzied breaths. He heard the slip of skin against the swing’s fabric, gasps that bordered on moans touching the air every few seconds. Those sounds were even sweeter than he’d imagined. Soft but demanding. Sexy but innocent.

  And for him. All for him.

  Get it together, he told himself again. More harshly.

  He had tonight. Just tonight to exorcise years of want.

  He had to make it count.

  It wasn’t the vibrator.

  It was him.

  She didn’t know what to do with that information.

  Sasha tightened her grip around the swing’s handles, holding her breath as Walker finally turned from whatever he was doing. The vibrations against her clit kept her body coasting toward a high she couldn’t reach—pushing her forward while stretching further away. But the second Walker moved, every cell in her body seemed to tense. Aware of him. Reaching for him.

  He proceeded along the cabinet wall and disappeared from view. Sasha released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, then inhaled again when she felt him coming up behind her.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Walker said softly, causing her to jump, then jump again as soft fabric fell over her eyes and the world went dark.

  A hard shudder ran through her.

  Holy Jesus fuck.

  The blindfold didn’t feel tight, but it definitely wasn’t loose. And it did exactly what it was supposed to do. No light along the edges—nothing but a canvas of black.

  “Do you want to know what I’ve been thinking?”

  When Walker spoke again, he had moved. Sasha jerked and swung her head around—not that it did any good—and strained to follow him.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, and she felt his hand graze her inner thigh. Again, she jumped, but immediately pressed back toward him.

  “You have not been the easiest person to be friends with,” Walker said. “Have you?”

  The sweet warmth of his skin on her skin burned out the words for a moment. Then the burn faded.

  “What?”

  “Don’t be coy, Sash. It doesn’t suit you.”

  The vibrating at her cunt stopped abruptly and he pulled aside the crotch of the thong.

  “Shit,” he whispered, nudging her wet flesh with one finger. A jolt speared through her at the touch, her heart leaping into her throat. She bucked, or tried to, and felt his hand move to her stomach, warm and firm, holding her in place.

  “You know what you look like?” Walker mused, his voice tight.

  She felt something blunt probe her opening, then it was inching into her. It wasn’t him, she knew. He remained between her open legs, guiding the object inside.

  “You look like the girl on the front of that magazine. The one you found under my bed. Remember?”

  Sasha drew in a hard breath, her body going rigid.

  “Ahh, don’t clench, precious. Let me in.”

  Her pulse started racing. An inkling of discomfort tickled at the base of her brain—not too loud to demand her full attention, but enough to have her on alert. In the years that had passed since she’d found those magazines, Walker had only seen fit to mention the incident once. That was immediately after, when he’d been desperate to explain what she’d seen. For her to understand that it wasn’t how it looked and that he wasn’t dangerous.

  “Would you like to use your safe word?” Walker asked, and she realized she had yet to relax.

  After a prolonged beat, Sasha shook her head.

  “Then unclench for me, baby.”

  The endearment did it. The muscles in her legs went pliant again, and he slid the object in as deep as it would go.

  “Whatever you do,” he whispered—and she might have been imagining it, but she thought she felt his lips brush her inner thigh—“you are not to come until I say so. Got it?”

  She nodded.

  “Let me hear it.”

  “I-I won’t come.”

  “Until I say so.”

  “Until
you say so.”

  He paused. “Until I say so, what?”

  At that, her mind blanked. “Umm…Master?”

  Walker chuckled, and she heard him shift. “I was going for Sir, but thank you.”

  Soft footsteps brought him closer to her, and she twisted as though she could follow with her eyes.

  “Truth be told, I never have been too big on the master thing,” he murmured. “But, fuck me, there is something damn right about you calling me that.”

  Then the object he’d positioned in her pussy—dildo, she guessed, from the feel and shape—began to vibrate.

  “Oh, shit!” Sasha snapped, jerking forward so fast she lost her grip on one of the handles. She grappled for a moment, unable to decide where to put her hand. Her clit ached for attention, her pussy demanding friction the vibrator teased her with but withheld.

  Walker seized her wrist before she could act on her impulses, his warm skin sending hot sparks up her arm.

  “No touching,” he said. “That pussy belongs to me. You want to touch, you have to ask.”

  In spite of the heat licking her veins, Sasha shivered. “Yes,” she said, clenching her thighs together, a pleasant, torturous blast of pleasure singeing her from the inside out. “God, Walker, you need to—”

  “You’re forgetting yourself, sub.”

  “But—”

  “You need to learn patience.”

  She hissed, but bit her tongue before her mouth could run away with her. Her heart began to gallop in earnest.

  Walker palmed her left breast. It was strange how unstrange it was—feeling him cradle an intimate part of her, shuddering when his thumb brushed over her nipple. The man had known her for twenty years. Their first time together should be a little more awkward. Should feel a little more unreal. Yet, no part of this felt wrong.

  “I, on the other hand, have been nothing but patient.”

  He released her breast, leaving her skin tingling. Then something closed around her nipple, and she threw her head back and moaned. The pull was immediate, tugging sweetly at her sensitive flesh and sending pulsing waves of awareness to her clit. She whimpered and thrust her pelvis up again, and was rewarded with another sweet suctioning sensation on her other nipple. It was as though he had spawned two mouths and was teasing both breasts at once, pulling and sucking and not relenting.

  “Wha…what is that?” Sasha panted, rotating her hips. The dildo slid against the walls of her pussy, dragging a long moan from her lips. “Oh, my god.”

  Walker didn’t answer. Rather, she heard him rustling—or she thought she did. Between her heady gasps and the vibrator’s muted buzzing, she wasn’t sure she knew where he was anymore, and that sense of not knowing made her nervous.

  It also turned her on beyond belief.

  A hundred feet below ground, naked, blindfolded and completely at his mercy.

  And, amazingly, she’d never felt freer than right at this moment. With Walker. It was unlike anything she could have imagined, even when she’d been in deep research, when she’d started flirting with the idea that she was a sexual submissive. She hadn’t had anything to help guide her—she hadn’t been able to go to Walker then, and she hadn’t known what sources to consider reputable or not. And, for the longest time, she’d fought with herself. Head over heart, and all that jazz.

  After all, what did it say about her if she liked being tied up?

  The same thing she’d feared, once upon a time, it said about Walker—that he enjoyed doing the tying.

  But, damn, she’d been wrong. The relief of knowing he was near, watching her, that he was in control, someone she trusted so implicitly, someone who was making her feel things she hadn’t thought existed…

  The knowledge, sweet and heady, made her burn.

  “I… I… Walker?”

  “Right here.” His warmth materialized at her side again, so prevalent she could almost feel her cells reaching for him.

  Sasha tightened her fingers around the handles, a long tremor chasing through her body. She felt balanced precariously in the space between total abandon and rigid control, a slave to relentless sensation yet resisting it all the same. The vibrating dildo lodged in her pussy kept her perched on the edge Walker had guided her to. She was hyperaware, yet detached at the same time, desperate for more yet afraid of her own limitations.

  There was something else too. Something she didn’t want to think about now.

  Because if she acknowledged that surrendering to Walker felt righter than anything ever had, then she’d also have to acknowledge there was another reason she’d asked him to introduce her to this world.

  The same reason she had broken when she’d first discovered those damn magazines.

  She’d been in love with him then. Stupidly and naïvely, but she’d loved him all the same. She just hadn’t known until he’d scared the shit out of her.

  Or, rather, until she’d shattered him by treating him like he was dangerous. Until she’d betrayed him by proving she didn’t deserve his trust nearly as much as he deserved hers.

  Because, this wasn’t just about experiencing something she thought she wanted.

  It was about experiencing Walker.

  Sasha released a trembling breath when she felt his fingers on her again. They started at her left nipple, toying with whatever device he’d clamped there, sending hot sparks straight to her clit. She clenched around the dildo, her thighs trembling, her pussy so wet she might have been embarrassed at how easily he manipulated her body had she the presence of mind to care.

  “You were made for this, Sasha.” Walker let out a deep breath as his fingers moved to the flesh of her breast. “God, I hoped you would be.”

  “Ahh…”

  “And, fuck, you’re gorgeous. Of course, you had to be.”

  She leaned into his touch as best she could, gripping the handles so hard she worried she might snap them off.

  Then she yelped. Loudly. Something had pinched the side of her breast. A small something, but with a mean bite. Her nipples tingled and a thrill tickled her clit. She hissed and clenched tighter around the dildo.

  “What—”

  “And you drive me out of my mind.”

  Her heart thudded. “W-Walker?”

  “No talking, sub.”

  Another pinch, another burst of pain that melded into something hot and primal. Sasha mewled and strained, her head lolling. She wanted so badly to see his face, his eyes.

  She needed to know.

  “All of you, Sash. Every goddamn day. You make me crazy.”

  She clamped her teeth down on the inside of her cheek to keep from barking out a question or twenty. The thundering in her chest intensified until she was sure her ribcage would shatter. A new wave of shivers broke across her sweat-soaked skin.

  Fuck, she needed to see him. Touch him. She needed to know if this was real.

  “And,” Walker continued, capturing another small sliver of skin between—she realized—what felt like miniature clamps, “it’s time you were punished for it.”

  Chapter Four

  Why the hell not? There was no going back from this, anyway.

  Walker ran his fingers down the curve of her breast. She all but purred and leaned into him, flinching, but not pulling back when he captured her skin between the prongs of the clothespin.

  He had better zippers, but something about this one—something about all the toys he’d chosen tonight—felt right. Namely because he’d made them all himself, a craft perfected when he’d been a poor college kid on a shoestring budget with a hunger for something that terrified him.

  It felt right, starting here with Sasha. Setting her on the same path he’d gone down when he’d first begun exploring his urges. Especially since he knew tonight marked the end of their friendship.

  He could be her client. He could be her lover. He could be whatever she wanted, except what he had been. He’d spent too long wanting, too long wondering, to go back to whatever their relationship ha
d been before after knowing her like this.

  And if she did find someone else, another Dom to help fulfill her submissive fantasies… Well, he didn’t know what he’d do. Move on, sure, but moving on from Sasha had proven over the last decade to be impossible.

  Perhaps if he laid everything on the table, he’d stand a better chance of walking away when the time came. It would be easier to get on with his life if he put finality on his one great unanswered question.

  “Imagine this kid,” he said softly, his heart jumping when she jerked at his voice, “scared out of his mind. Nineteen, maybe twenty years old.” He pinched another selection of flesh between his fingers, then clamped it with a clothespin. “He has a secret, one he hasn’t shared with anyone. He wants to. He very much wants to, but, like I said, the kid’s scared shitless of how people will react.”

  Sasha tensed, a shiver washing over her succulent body.

  “Can you see him?” Walker asked. “Can you see the kid, Sasha?”

  “Yes.”

  He secured another clothespin. They lined her breast, curving around the luscious mound and trailing inward toward her belly. In a moment he’d give her other breast the same treatment, but he didn’t want to rush. Every time he caressed her flesh, every time she jumped and cooed, his cock pulsed and his balls tightened. Touching her was exquisite torture, and he was determined to enjoy every raw second.

  Fantasy had nothing on this.

  “The kid thinks something’s wrong with him.” Walker finished his work on her left side, then strolled around the swing to her untended breast. He flicked her nipple, which was trapped in another popular makeshift toy—a snakebite kit. Something else he had discovered in those early days—the BDSM community was damn inventive.

  “See,” Walker continued, “the kid thinks what he wants, what gets him off, isn’t normal. He’s afraid he might be sick. He’s afraid he might want to actually hurt someone. He’s especially afraid for his best friend, a girl he’s known for years. Since they were kids, really. Someone he loves. And I mean, really loves. He’d just as soon chop off his arm before hurting her, so the things he’s thinking, the things that are getting his dick hard… He thinks he might be dangerous.”