Club Wicked 2: My Wicked Nanny (23 page)

Tears glimmered in Diane’s eyes, and he wasn’t sure if they
were real or fake. “Fine, I see how it is. Enjoy screwing someone young enough
to be your daughter.”

She turned on her heel, then stomped down the walkway to
where her Mercedes sat gleaming in the night. After closing the door, he rolled
his neck to try and release some of the tension. Anya leaned against the wall
near the front door, looking out the window with a glare.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, baby.”

She looked over at him, then back at the window. “She is
such a bitch, but thanks for standing up for me.”

Moving away from the window, she wrapped her arms around him
and hugged him tight. He placed his lips on the fine silk of her hair,
breathing in her scent. God, he felt so good when he was with her. His
addiction to her could only result in pain when she left, but he couldn’t tear
himself away.

“Your mom sent me to the rescue,” she muttered against his
chest.

Hugging him seemed to be one of her defense mechanisms. She
found solace in his arms and liked to close her eyes and be held when she was
upset. It moved him in a profound way. Being needed was one of the best things
about being a Dom, at least for him. He gained a sense of satisfaction like no
other from being able to be everything his sub needed.

Her happiness was his happiness.

The joy and warmth in his body expanded until he became
overwhelmed by the sensation and realized he loved Anya.

Truly loved her.

The heart worked in mysterious ways, and fate could be a
real bitch.

Stepping back, he tilted her head up and grinned. “So, you
came to rescue me from that bitch?”

She flushed, the pink rising to her cheeks and giving her an
adorable warmth. “Something like that.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.” He brushed back some hair from her
cheek, stroking her oh so soft skin. “That had been a long time coming, and I’m
sorry you got caught up in the crossfire, but thank you for being there for me.
You are an amazing woman.”

She smiled up at him, pure devotion and happiness radiating
from her. God, she was sweet. Unable to help himself, he pulled her around the
corner into the unlit den. She giggled and tugged at him in a futile attempt to
get away. Throwing her onto the wide couch, he pinned her with his knee and
fished his phone out of his back pocket.

Anya tried to squirm away, but he then straddled her, and
she was stuck.

He dialed his mom’s number, and she picked up right away.
“Jesse? Why are you calling me from the house?”

“Mom, I need you to take the boys out for ice cream,
please.”

Anya protested, and he put his free hand over her mouth.

His mother laughed. “Of course. The boys are ready to go. I
think I’ll stop by my place and make sure my plants are watered. Want us to
bring you back anything from the parlor?”

He lifted his hand from Anya’s mouth. “What kind of ice
cream do you want?”

“Strawberry.”

He nodded and put his hand back over her mouth, earning an
outraged and muffled complaint. “Bring us back some strawberry and pralines and
cream, please.”

“Got it.”

“Night, Mom.”

Before she could respond with some suggestion about how he
could sweep Anya off her feet, he hung up and tossed the phone onto the table.
Moonlight glinted off the modern chrome lamps on either side of the couch and
lovingly caressed Anya’s lush curves. She raised her eyebrows, but he didn’t
release his hand. With a muffled sigh she settled down, already familiar with
his tendency to like looking at her.

He’d explained to her that once he was rising into his
Dominant headspace, he noticed things that normally slipped past his attention.
Like the faint shimmer of some kind of glittery eye shadow she’d used to make
her eyes look bigger, or the tender curve of her earlobe. The more he focused
on her, the less the real world mattered. She became the center of his
universe, a bright star he could touch without being burned.

Tonight he was the one who ached, who couldn’t wait to be
inside her. After all the times he’d had her, he should have been over the
initial rush of taking a sub, but even now he wanted to rut on her like a beast
in heat. An idea came to him, an answer to a problem he’d been mulling over the
last few days.

When he at last removed his hand, she kissed his palm and
smiled up at him. “Hi, Master.”

“Hello, little one.”

She bit her lower lip and looked up at him through her
lashes. Minx. She knew exactly how to get him going. “What are you going to do
with me, Master?”

“We’re going to play a game.”

“Will Master share with his most humble submissive the
nature of the game?”

He smiled and moved off her before drawing her to her feet.
“We’re going to play hunt the subbie.” He smiled at her, and her eyes went
wide. Good, she was catching on to his mood. “I’m going to give you one minute
to go hide somewhere in the house. If I find you and capture you within five
minutes, I get to tie you to a chair, cover you in vibrating things, and go
watch some TV.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!”

He gave her butt a hard pinch. “Well, I can’t really punish
you by beating you. The pain turns you on too much, and I could never really
hurt you.” He stroked his hand over her cheek, the soft down of her skin
entrancing him. “And I can’t threaten you with fucking you hard because you
love it when you can’t walk the next morning.”

She gave a sound that reminded him of a satisfied purr.
“Mmm, you’re right as always, Master. I love wearing your mark on my body, in
my body. It makes me feel like you’re with me wherever I go.” She stood on her
tiptoes and placed a kiss on his chin. “What do I get if I win?”

“A surprise.”

His own heart thudded, and she cocked her head at him,
looking closer. Not wanting to give anything away, he spun her around and held
her to his chest. “One.”

“Wait, are we starting?”

“Two.”

“No, hold on. I wasn’t—”

“Three.”

Before he got to four, she ducked out of his arms and ran,
her braid flying behind her. He couldn’t help but growl at the way her ass and
tits bounced when she ran. She looked so…lush. Delicious. And she had the
pinkest little pussy he’d ever seen. Made him want to do wicked things to her.

The seconds ticked by, and he listened for the sound of her
footsteps, a creak somewhere that would tell him where she’d gone. At the count
of sixty he looked at his watch, marking his five minutes for finding her. He
really didn’t want her to lose, but damned if he could stop his competitive
side. She would get what was coming to her one way or another tonight.

A cursory scan of the kitchen revealed nothing, and he went
on to the living room. She wasn’t behind any curtains or under any pieces of
furniture. He kept his search methodical, room by room, examining everything.
After he’d exhausted the first floor, he sprinted up the stairs to the second
level. He had less than a minute to spare.

Instinct had him dashing for his bedroom, and he made it at
four minutes and fifty-nine seconds. Technically under the five-minute mark. He
didn’t have to look hard. She was kneeling next to his bed, her head down and
legs spread. At some point she’d put a glittering gold chain around her waist.
It was thick enough that he could hold on to it while he fucked her from
behind, so he could really spear her on his dick.

His whole body clenched, and a deep-seated need to claim her
tried to hurry him across the room. He looked away from her pussy, so bare and
smooth, and back to her face. She peeked up at him through her lashes and gave
him a mysterious smile. His balls drew up tight. He almost didn’t want to touch
her. She looked so beautiful, perfectly poised, awaiting his pleasure.

Gritting his teeth, he prepared to give her what she needed
to come. A little pain. That was her own personal spice. While he’d never get
off on really hurting her—the very thought made him ill—fulfilling her needs
stroked him in a whole different way. And if he was an honest man, he also had
to admit he found it fucking hot. To see her straining to take his length, the
soft cry just for him as she came…it was his spice of choice.

“On your knees, darlin’. I’m in the mood for you to worship
me.”

Her lips pressed together as she tried not to smile.
“Whatever my Master wishes.”

He strolled over to the table next to his bed and picked up
the remote for the stereo system. After pushing a button, a deep, sensual rush
of music poured over them. It set the tone, the mood, and enhanced his pleasure
in her. The music had a soulful side, almost melancholy, and he wondered if she
felt that as well. Her breath hitched as he held her gaze, and he motioned to
her by curling one finger.

“Your Master wishes for you to get over here and undress
me.”

She crawled across the floor to him, a slinky movement that
never failed to make his cock jump. Anya was so observant; she remembered what
he liked and tried to please him at every turn. That only made him want her
more and to make it as good for her as he could. He’d planned a little
something earlier in the afternoon, a setup that would allow her to watch
herself getting fucked by him.

Her deft touch stroked over him, and he took a deep breath
of her flowery scent, a mixture of delicate perfume and woman. He indulged
himself in running his hand through her hair while she unbuttoned his shirt.

So pretty, like sun-bleached wheat.

Next she went to her knees and undid his pants. He stepped
out of them, and she carefully folded them before putting them on his dresser.
The sway of her walk was enough to bring any man to their knees, him included.
When she returned, the view was even better. The moment she got close enough,
he grabbed her tits, hard.

“I’m going to bind these tonight.”

She shivered against him, the dreamy look coming into her
eyes that was her physical sign for starting to drift down into her subspace.
Sometimes his girl was in the mood for it rough and nasty—well, most of the
time—but he also liked to make love to her.

Except he liked to make love with ropes and clamps.

“Follow me, Anya.”

He took her into his closet and shut the door. After
flicking the lights on, he went to the wooden shelves that held his shoes and
pressed a hidden button. The shelves became a door, with only darkness showing
from the other side.

Anya gaped at him. “You have a secret closet in your
closet.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Not quite. Follow me.”

Groping around in the darkness, he found his lighter and the
candle he’d placed here earlier. To say this was his closet wasn’t quite true.
It was actually what used to be a small servant’s room off to the side. When
he’d bought the home, he’d converted it to be his dungeon. After his wife’s
death, he couldn’t bear to go in there, the memories too strong. Then he met
Anya, previously known as Dove, and he’d gone into the room and begun to clear
it out. His friends Isaac and Hawk had come over, helping him remove the now
dust-covered and neglected BDSM equipment. When there was nothing but the
walls, the stained glass, and the bare wood floors, he’d cleaned every inch of
it. In doing so it almost felt like he’d been cleaning a part of his soul, a
place that had gotten as dusty as this room.

He’d never had a woman back here except for his wife. But
now he had Anya, even if only for a brief time. He’d be a fool not to let her
light into this place of shadows.

She gave a small gasp and turned in a circle, looking at the
blue and green stained glass window. “I always wondered where this room was. I
could see it from the outside, but I could never figure out where the door was
inside the house.”

The room was almost bare at the moment, just black silk
walls and a gleaming oak floor. It was dark, hard to see outside of the circle
of light from the candle, so he led her deeper into the room where his surprise
waited. When it came into view, Anya stopped.

“Oh my.”

He’d brought a foam mattress pad in here and covered it with
black silk. An antique Chinese medicine cabinet stood off to one side with
pillows mounded against it for a headrest. He moved closer to the bed, lighting
a few more candles until their reflections blazed back at them from the five
big mirrors he’d brought in here.

Each had been positioned so they could watch each other from
pretty much any angle they wanted. He wished he could make a video with her,
but as fucked-up as the world was today, he knew something like that would
never be safe. So instead he’d burn this into his memory, a vision to comfort
him when her scent had faded from his sheets and she was an ocean away.

“Master, Jesse, this is just amazing. I can’t believe I
never found it. Not that I was in this wing of the house much anyways.”

He continued to watch her, entranced by her naked beauty and
honesty. “Did you ever want to sneak into my room? See where I slept? Smell my
pillow.”

She flushed scarlet from her chest to her hairline. “No.”

“Really? You’re not lying to me, are you? We both know what
happens to girls that lie.”

Her voice came out husky, similar to the sexy voice she used
while pretending to be Dove. “They get punished.”

“Get on the mattress and present yourself.”

She practically skipped across the room. He had to hide an
amused smile. Then she crawled forward, and the elongated almond shape of her
pink pussy between her creamy thighs made his dick jerk. He could eat her pussy
for days and still want more. She was so sweet and fresh tasting, and he could
never get enough of the way she unraveled for him during an orgasm.

Once Anya was in the kneeling position, he went over to the
medicine cabinet and brought out the black silk rope and grabbed a vial of oil.
He could actually see her pussy clench at the sight of the ropes as he walked
over to her, her widespread stance revealing her every aroused move.