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quiver under my
    touch.”
    Her mouth opened, soundless. But he
    was continuing.
    “I’d do that for as long as I liked,
    then I’d take you into the
    shower. I’d blindfold you, make you
    kneel in the corner
    where the steam would keep you
    warm. I’d enjoy looking at
    you while I washed myself. You’d sit
    up straight, your hands
    clasped at your lower back, your
    breasts thrust out for me.
    Your knees would be spread, steam
    teasing your cunt lips,
    making you even wetter. You’d stay
    in that position,
    knowing nothing was required but to
    sit like that while I took
    my fil of viewing what was mine.
    And it would drive you as
    crazy as it would drive me, until I’d
    be so hard I’d have to
    fuck you against the shower wal .”
    As he’d spoken, he’d started moving
    toward her. Slow,
    deliberate steps, and it wasn’t until
    her back hit two wal s
    she realized she’d matched his pace,
    letting him back her
    into a corner. He laid a palm against
    one wal , then the
    other, so she’d have to duck under
    those long arms to get
    past him. Nothing was touching her,
    but she could feel
    every plane and curve of him, wanted
    al of it.
    When she moistened her lips, she
    could tel his eyes
    registered not only the motion but the
    thoughts behind it. It
    wouldn’t surprise her if his mind
    could fol ow hers like a
    hound tracking a scent, see what she
    was imagining in
    such detail.
    I want to be on my knees in that
    shower. If I stayed very
    still and on display for him, he
    might give me permission
    to taste his cock, make him even
    harder. And when he
    came, I’d take every drop down my
    throat. Then he’d lift
    me up on the wall and pin me there,
    take me hard as he
    said, until I screamed out with every
    raw, painful need
    bottled inside for way too long. I
    would die that way, and
    that would be okay.
    He leaned up close, breath a heated
    touch on her face
    like the imagined shower steam.
    “Your eyes are so hungry,
    Rachel. You hear what I want and
    you tremble, your skin
    flushing and nipples hardening.” His
    body was against hers,
    a brush of contact against the tight
    points, and she bit down
    on a moan. “You say you’ve learned
    not to want things so
    fiercely. Next time I see you, I dare
    you to say that to me
    again.”
    She closed her eyes. His mouth
    touched hers, another
    featherlight contact. Then coolness
    enveloped her, a draft
    of air. When she opened her eyes, the
    heavy sense of loss
    warning her, she was alone. Her
    body was doing everything
    he’d said it was, but it was her heart
    that reacted the most
    strongly.
    It ached, as if engulfed in an oil fire
    that would never stop
    burning.
    Chapter Three
    She did her job on Monday, but it
    was like a hive of bees
    had been loosed in her head, driving
    her to distraction with
    their frenetic buzzing. As the day
    progressed, they migrated
    out through her body, crawling under
    her skin until she
    wanted to scream and claw the
    incessant irritation away.
    Sunday night she’d put her hands
    between her legs,
    rubbing uselessly, nothing there
    responding, even though
    she was wet just from the memory of
    Jon curved behind
    her, his cock against her ass. She’d
    known this would
    happen, hadn’t she? She was back in
    that place where her
    whole world seemed to be
    narrowing, darkening, and it
    scared her. She had so many feelings
    running through her
    she didn’t know whether to eat a
    consolation tub of ice
    cream or throw up what little she’d
    been able to eat.
    Al through her morning therapy
    sessions, she had a steel
    spring in her lower bel y, tight
    enough to launch a
    cannonbal . By lunch, she couldn’t
    handle anymore. She
    had to act or she would go insane.
    There was a BDSM club in Baton
    Rouge. She’d found
    out about it a long time ago, when
    she’d lurked on D/s
    sites. Places where the open chat
    rooms felt like virtual
    meat markets, and the Doms’ online
    personas made her
    feel smal and shrinking. She hadn’t
    been