How To Tame Beasts And Other Wild Things

by A. Wilding Wells

  “Balthazar.” Kissing my collarbone, she says, “I like when you talk to me, like you telling me what you’re gonna do.”

  “Like when I tell you I’m going to peel this dress off you, get you naked?” I unzip the back then drop the silken straps from her shoulders. Her dress slips down her body, creating a pool at her feet, which she steps out of.

  “Or when I tell you I’m going to suck your tits raw?” I take the lace straps of her bra down to reveal her bountiful chest. I lick her breasts as she moans out my name and presses her body against my face, burying me in her soft fleshy heaven. “I could live between your tits. Could live,” I mutter. I suck her nipple into my mouth then nibble until she squeals. “I love your reactions.” I groan. “The way you spread your legs and drive your hips into me when I lick you. I’m going to suck them until they’re marked.”

  “Balthazar, keep talking. I love when you talk dirty to me.”

  “Like when I talk about how much I want your wet pussy?”

  “Yeah,” she pleads.

  “My tongue wants it… My tongue is aching to fuck you.” I kneel in front of her, kissing her belly, my hands pressing her hips to the wall. “You ever want something so bad you ache for it?”

  “God yes.”

  I suck her clit through her lace knickers. “What? Tell me what, Matilda.”

  She opens her legs for me in obvious answer. “I ache for your tongue,” she says softly as I slide the wet lace panel aside and take my tongue to her lips.

  “What, love? What aches for my tongue? Your wet cunt?” I suck, lap, and whisper words against her. “You’re so fucking wet my cock is ready to explode.”

  Her knees buckle. “Balthazar…please. I want it in me. Now!”

  “Not yet. I can taste that sweet ache, Matilda.” I open her to my lips and eagerly explore her. Her hands grip my shoulders as she bumps against my mouth, which makes me want to toss her down and rip my pants off. I grab my groin to adjust the pain then shred her panties off. She gasps, which makes me hungrier. I throw one of her legs over my shoulder, taking what I want, needing further access. Every damn inch of her. Front to back, inside and out, I make her mine as she wilts in my mouth, all of her resolve melting, every ounce of her passion and desire crawling out of her and into me.

  “Matilda, have to have you. Can’t wait another fucking minute.” I pick her up and carry her to the bed then tear my pants and briefs down as though my life depends on it.

  “You’re so fucking inside me. I know I’ve told you this, how you’ve become the only woman I’ll ever want again,” I whisper alongside her neck. Then I pull back to look at her eyes. “I mean it. Ever again.”

  “Balthazar, I adore you. Don’t for one second think I don’t want everything about you. I love you,” she says softly. “I love you!” she yells.

  I pin my hips to hers. “Don’t you dare get up and start streaking the halls again. I’d hate to have to fuck you out there. We might get arrested.”

  “Then you’d better stake your claim and fuck me nice and hard right now.”

  “I’m not so sure about nice, but there’s no question about hard.” I drive in with a deep thrust. Matilda’s soft moans make me feel like a king when I move inside her. She wraps her legs around me as I cage her with my hands and curl under her. Sweat drips from my face and onto her tits, causing a stir inside me as I watch each drop meet her skin.

  “You feel me?”

  Her eyes flutter as her lips contort with each deep thrust.

  “Would you want this from anyone else?” I accelerate my movements.

  Her hips beg me for more, ask me to go harder. I give it to her.

  “Not from anyone,” she mouths. Her tongue comes out, waiting for mine as our lips crash together, and we cling to each other for every breath. As her fingers claw up and down my back, she grips handfuls of my ass and pulls me hard inside her.

  “More,” she says softly.

  “Tell me. Who do you want fucking you?” I lick her mouth. “Deep and hard. Who do you want licking you? Whose face do you want to come all over on?” My tongue dives into her mouth.

  She sucks as if it were my cock. It makes me groan as I swell, and I swear I get three times harder.

  “Whose name do you want falling from your lips when you come again and again and again around a cock?”

  “Balthazar, only you. Oh god…only you.”

  31

  Matilda

  Tool of thief, toy of queen.

  Always used to be unseen.

  Sign of joy, sign of sorrow.

  Giving all likeness borrowed.

  Mask

  Christmas Eve is here and Imogene is joining us. Balthazar’s level of excitement since he’s fully accepted the idea that he has a mother has really been something to witness. With her arrival later this afternoon, we finish readying the twins’ big boy room.

  Jinx holds an armload of hooded sweatshirts as he approaches Balthazar. “We need hookers for our jackets, Daddy.”

  “Hooks, mate! Got ’em right here.” After digging through his tool belt, Balthazar pulls out silver wall hooks. “Gonna put them up on the back of your door so you boys can reach them and hang up your clothes. Sound good?”

  Jinx nods as he drops the sweatshirts by the door and perches his hands on his hips. Balthazar removes the cordless screwdriver from his belt. Jax studies his dad as he holds a hook against the door then takes a screw from his mouth.

  “Daddy, you gonna screw that hooker to the wall?”

  I burst out laughing as Balthazar spits the screw from his mouth and props himself against the door with one arm. The other digs in his belt pouch for another screw. He shakes his head, chuckling as he looks over his shoulder to me and winks.

  Okay, fine. I adore the shit out of them.

  After we finish their room, I tidy up the kitchen and check the bar for details, while Balthazar showers. With everything ready save last-minute details of candle lighting and ice bucket filling, I jog up the stairs to get dressed for our evening. Jog, yeah. Two steps at a time, not one slip or fall! “I own these stairs today,” I sing as I leap to the landing.

  “Lucille who?” I mutter smugly as I strip out of my clothes. Opening the closet door, I whip the curtain in front of my clothes aside to grab my velvet tartan dress. “Dammit, Lucille!” I shriek, my toe catchingthe puddle of curtain on the floor. “Shit…shit!” I channel the twins. “I need a hooker for this curtain!”

  “Well, look at you. Legs all spread and ready to go!” Balthazar chuckles, towering above me. In a kilt. With a four-day stubble. Shirtless. Tatted. Belted. KILT!

  “Holy mother of god, look at you!” My mouth drops open, hoping his Yule log will fall from his kilt and bless me and my spread legs with some holiday cheer.

  “I was about to say the same thing. What’re you doing?” He quirks an eyebrow. “Naked on the floor of the closet…self lovin’?”

  All of his hotness is married to a cocky little grin as his one eye dances from my face to my chest before settling on my open legs. Funny that I haven’t done the ladylike thing and crossed them.

  “Nope. Just waiting around for a Brit in a kilt. Tell me you’re commando under that thing. Lie if you’re not, then do something about it.”

  Balthazar scratches his jaw. “A Brit with any balls would never wear briefs under his kilt, love. That’d be offensive to my countrymen.” That fucking voice, it still gets me. The man somehow fucks me with his voice before his cock gets anywhere near me.

  “Well, considering the size of your balls, I guess I know the answer to that one. Can you flash me? You know, give the ho, ho, ho on the floor a little something more to smile about.”

  He licks his lips, and then I lick mine. Why is he still standing? Am I not being obvious enough?

  “You might end up with coal in your stocking, pretty eyes.”

  “I couldn’t give a shit as long as my stocking is filled by a hot Brit in a kilt.”

 
“I’ll be filling you, all right.” He opens his kilt to reveal his gorgeous erection. “Love, that smile of yours is about to get you fucked hard.”

  I widen my grin. “This smile? This one?”

  He kneels between my spread legs. “See how big it is now.”

  “I did say hard, didn’t I?” He groans fisting his cock, until he grabs my hips as the kilt dances between my legs, his erection splitting the plaid. “You want it harder than hard, don’t you, love?”

  “Oh, yeah.” I nod.

  After grabbing the root of his cock again, he strokes it a few times.

  “I’m dreaming of a wet Christmas,” I sing quietly, and we both crack up.

  “Naughty little elf. Now, bring us some figgy pudding,” he croons in his raspy deep voice.

  Post-Christmas Eve naughtiness, Balthazar throws on a crisp, white linen shirt and tops it with a black bow tie, effectively slaying me. I slip into a red lace corset with matching panties then whip on my dress. He whistles out a couple of catcalls as he walks a circle around me.

  “I made you a little something. And I know you don’t like thrift stuff because of the orphanage, but I hope this one can pass muster, mister.” I pull a hanger out of the closet then slip the Union Jack blazer I sewed for him off it.

  Balthazar’s face lights up in a display of joyfulness that makes tears spring to my eyes. “Matilda Pearl.” He grins.

  I swell with pride as he grabs the blazer from my hands and looks it over. Inside the blazer, I sewed a lining of teal silk. With a black fabric pen, I wrote all over it in my fanciest cursive. Matilda Independence Pearl loves Balthazar Beastly Brit Cox. I also dated it and added the words our first Christmas.

  In a hoarse voice, he asks, “What am I going to do with you, pretty eyes?”

  “I suppose I could think of a thing or two?” I answer as he slides the blazer on. I bite the grin on my lips as he gazes at his reflection in the mirror.

  This man… Whoosh. There goes all of my air. Again.

  32

  Balthazar

  It cannot be seen, it weighs nothing, but when put into a barrel, it makes it lighter. What is it?

  A hole

  Imogene arrives at four on the nose. I’d be lying if I were to say I am anything less than nervous as fuck. My mom joining us for Christmas. My naked knees are knocking. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined anything so amazing. A house full of family. My family.

  The boys and I open the front door together to be greeted by Imogene’s sparking eyes and mile-wide smile. We hug in a tear-filled hello.

  “Dat her?” Jinx says as Imogene kneels.

  “Hi, can I have a hug? I’m your grandma.” Both boys wrap their arms around her neck. My mom.

  Oh, Jesus. Matilda says in a sob as she joins us, “Imogene, Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas,” Imogene replies. “I can’t believe I’m here. Someone pinch me,” she says as my throat contracts.

  Jax and Jinx pinch her cheeks to receive a roll of laughter from the rest of us.

  “Come on in.” I help her up from the floor. Everit strolls over with raised eyebrows. “This is Matilda’s father, Everit Pearl. Everit, meet my mom, Imogene Cox.”

  “Everit, nice to meet you.” A slow smile dances across her face as Everit takes her hand in his and kisses it. Matilda pinches my arm while avoiding my eyes. We gave Everit a solid warning that he would need to be on his best behavior tonight in regards to Matilda and Imogene. Looks like both of my ladies will be getting the royal treatment from him.

  “The pleasure is all mine.” They linger in a stare, then Everit helps Imogene with her coat, and bags of gifts she left on the porch. He serves her a drink, then another after Alfie and Duke arrive. Matilda and I chuckle watching Everit fetch Imogene glass after glass of wassail punch as the two of them waltz to the other side of tipsy before we serve dinner. Amazingly he’s been nothing but lovely with Matilda as well. So maybe he needed a distraction in the female form. Can’t say I blame the guy. I was a grouch before Matilda showed up months ago.

  As we settle in the dining room on couches and chairs, I raise my glass for a toast. “I’d like to say a few things. As a writer I can be verbose so I’ll do my best to keep this short. First, to all of you, Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas.” Everyone cheers in return. I raise my glass again, this time to my mom who is seated next to Everit. Jax is on her lap, Jinx is on his. My boys have grandparents. I smile then gather my thoughts. “To Imogene, thank you for being brave, for saying hello, for seeing me.”

  Imogene shakes her head as tears stream down her face. Everit hands her a handkerchief from his pocket as she blows me a kiss and mouths, “Thank you.”

  “To Everit, for evolving into a good grandfather. Thank you also for trying to see Matilda for the lovely woman that she is. You’ve got work to do, but you’re off to a solid start.”

  Everit nods and flips me off, he then looks at Matilda with a wide grin as he sips his drink. Maybe Imogene could come to the farm more often, snake charmer that she’s proving to be. I don’t think Everit has ever smiled so much in one night.

  “And then there’s my girl.” Matilda is seated on a chair next to me. I reach out and entwine my fingers with hers. “My girl, who’s taken hold of my heart, my soul, and every bit of space between ’em. I love you, Matilda.”

  “I love you, Balthazar.” She beams.

  I wave the boys over and grab the box under my chair. “We have a little something for you, love. We took a page out of your book and handcrafted you something fit for a princess. You, pretty eyes, are our princess.”

  Matilda giggles then rips into the messily wrapped box. When I place the crown the boys and I made from wire and a bunch of old, sparkly types of pins she likes, onto her head, she laughs.

  “This is, oh my goodness.” Her eyes go wide, then she bawls. The boys cry too. They of course think she doesn’t like her “pincess” crown from what I can tell. She jumps up and grabs the boys in her arms singing, “Ring Around the Rosie” until the three of them land on the floor in a mess of love as the boys sing, “Asses, asses, we aw faw down!”

  We move to the dining table and everyone cracks open the Christmas popper that sits on their dinner plate. Folded paper crowns and small gold charms litter the table. Everyone promptly unfolds then places the crowns on their heads. Matilda sticks with her fancy crown, looking like The Queen of England holding court. Finally, turkey is cut at the dining table and served along with multiple sides.

  Halfway through dinner Imogene’s scarf catches fire from a candle as she leans over the table to hand Jax a spoon. Everit wrestles her down to the ground, spanking her chest with open palms as she gazes at him with a look of surprise.

  “Everit, thank you,” she says in a breathy laugh as he helps her off the floor. Their flushed faces and steady eye contact have the rest of us meeting eyes in surprise.

  Post dessert, Matilda and the boys call us outside to the porch after having disappeared for ten minutes. The yard beyond is lit with dozens of glowing lunch bags that create a magical effect with the light snow that’s dusting everything with sparkles. The three of them stand in the yard holding hands, donning costumes of capes, swords and tutus, looking like a crew of misfits. My misfits. My family.

  “On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me a kiss after I slid down the stairs nakedly.” Matilda’s tone-deaf uneven voice makes me grin. The boys jump in and sing with her a few times, but mostly they squirrel around her legs while shaking tambourines. As she rounds the twelfth day, she approaches me. Her hands clutch the front of my blazer, her smiling eyes capture mine, my heart races as she climbs even further inside me.

  “On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me my dad for the holidays, his mother too, twins I just adore, and enough happiness with my man for a lifetime…maybe two!”

  Christmas morning Matilda sits at the edge of our bed stretching and yawning. “Me
rry Christmas,” she says then kisses my cheek. After a few more kisses she stands and strolls to our bedroom window. “Holy crap!” Her face is filled with a story, and from the looks of it, I’m about to hear a doozie!

  “Santa?” I laugh quietly, throwing my legs over the side of the bed.

  “No! I just saw your mom sneak out of my dad’s Airstream.”

  I jump up and look out the window to see nothing save footsteps in the snow. “Don’t overreact. She was probably just taking him some Christmas morning coffee.” Though the footsteps are going the wrong way.

  She rolls her eyes then presses her face to the glass, fogging it. “Are you seriously that naïve? Where were you last night when my dad was fawning all over Imogene, and didn’t you notice she was eating it like she’s never been flirted with in her life? It’s like they were both high! He was even nice to me. I mean nice.”

  “You think she slept out there?”

  “Yep. As in don’t come knocking if the camper is rocking.”

  I chuckle at the thought of it. Hell, I hardly know my mom. We haven’t exactly had any alone time since she arrived. Maybe I got her libido? “We’re an incestuous bunch, aren’t we?”

  As Matilda heads downstairs, I check in on the boys who are miraculously still asleep. After taking a long, hot shower and getting dressed, I sneak down the stairs to find Everit and Matilda walking in the front door and taking off their coats while Imogene sits at the kitchen table having coffee.

  “Merry Christmas,” I say.

  Matilda hangs her coat on a hook by the door, then passes by me and goes into the pantry without one look at me.

  “Merry Christmas to you,” Imogene says. “The boys are still sleeping?”

  “Yeah, kind of surprising.” I pour two mugs of coffee then walk into the pantry and hand one to Matilda.

  “You guys take a walk? Mending more fences?”

  “Um, yeah,” she says over her shoulder as she slides jars of jam around until she takes one off the shelf. “Just a short one.” She spins to face me. Her red eyes and clipped tone along with her tight smile have me curious.