by Myles, Eden
“Tell me you understand.”
“I understand, sir.”
He licked along my spine and his ponytail of hair flopped over one of his shoulders to tickle along my back as he waited to stiffen inside me once more. More conditioning, I thought. This last time wasn’t about sex. He meant to prove his dominance. It didn’t take very long, and within minutes, he was holding me down and thrusting inside of my tenderness once more, working my sore little cunt until all I could do was respond to him. My cunt tightened down around him as my body sought to milk him one last time. When he came at last, I was very near to using a safe word. I couldn’t take anymore of Wolf at the moment. Everything inside of me felt painfully stretched and used and battered.
Sensing I was finished, he withdrew in that careful way he had, trying not to cause me any more pain than he already had. He rubbed himself against my ass, and I groaned at the feel of him spurting one last time, not inside me but against my back and ass, marking me as his. Finally, he was done, milked clean. He gathered me into his arms so we lay together on the pillows with my ass spooned against the front of him and all the sticky end results of our play between us. He curled his arm tight around me and buried his face in my hair. When I shivered, he gathered the big, heavy folds of the dressing gown around us both. Jasmine lay down on the pillows, facing me, and I thought how pretty she was, and how I couldn’t possibly hate her after the intimacy we had shared. I kissed her gently. She was like a sister to me now, a lover.
Wolf gathered his robe around her too. “My pets,” he said. “After this, I just may have to keep you both.”
* * *
Book IV: Beauty and the Beast
In the dream, I was wandering through a dense forest of giant pines and fir. I was dressed in long skirts and a flowing poet’s blouse bunched around my shivering shoulders. I didn’t recognize the forest, but I had the insinuating feeling that I wasn’t in America, that I wasn’t in my own time. There was something old, almost medieval, about the trees. They were huge, hundreds of feet tall, and close together, as if no human had ever cut an inroad here.
I was racing upon a soft blanket of fragrant pine needles at least several feet deep, but not so densely packed as to make travel easy. Every time I set my foot down, I sank to the ankle in the needles. It was dark, with only the gravid moon to guide me, its light glinting through the tiny seams in the trees. I had to fight for every step, and soon I found myself tiring. I might have stopped, except for the crackling of the pine needles behind me, and the hoarse animal noise breathing through the trees. The sound sent a trill of fear up my spine as I struggled on, going a little faster.
The crackling and breathing increased behind me, as if sensing my panic, as if enlivened by it. I caught the scent of something wild in the air, and the smell—hot, very male, very much alive—made the little hairs stand up on the back of my neck. I tried to increase my speed, tried to lift my legs a little higher with each step, but the pine needles seemed deeper than ever so it was like trying to tread water. I ripped through low-hanging pine boughs, seeking purchase to help me along. The trees were slowly thinning out into a clearing a few hundred feet ahead.
The creature behind me snorted. It had caught my scent. It howled, a long, hoarse noise that didn’t sound like anything I’d ever heard from a horror movie. My panic edged up a notch. The pine needles were almost knee deep now. I stopped trying to run and tried to crawl across them instead—I knew I had to run, to escape the creature hunting me—but I sank relentlessly into them, like a trap with no way out. I made a strangled noise in my throat, a prey noise, as I clawed my way across the earth. I had just reached the clearing when I felt the presence close in fast behind me.
I twisted around, determined to meet the creature head on…and screamed. It was gigantic, something like a man, but also something like a beast, though what kind of beast I couldn’t be sure. It seemed a little of everything—wolf, lion, bear—a great chimera of a monster with pale, moon eyes, slavering jaws and a frightening, liquid grace. Its cock was fully erect. It lunged and sank its almost manlike claws into my skirts, rending them into ribbons as the creature dragged me across the needles. I twisted, trying to escape, but the creature only growled and dragged me relentlessly toward it. It mounted me quickly from behind, its jaws snapping over my shoulder, its furry belly and balls raking over my ass, its massive cock penetrating me at once. Its heat and musk made me dizzy. Its bite made me scream.
I jerked awake from the dream, not screaming, but gasping from the impact of being roughly sexed from behind in that dreamy half-state between sleep and full wakefulness. It was a uniquely intense experience, like dreaming you’re awake only to find that you’re still asleep. My wrists were still in the cuffs bound to the headboard, the way they had been when I’d fallen asleep. Wolf had me pinned to the mattress, though he was elevating my hips slightly so he could penetrate me more easily. He breathed roughly into my hair as he fucked me, his thrusts short and brutal. I listened to the terrible groaning of the bedsprings. I groaned too as he plundered me so deeply and completely. We came together, struggling and shivering, with Wolf’s seed jetting deep inside of me.
He withdrew from me and undid the cuffs, and we wound up snuggling together against the pillows of my bed with the sheet bunched around us. “Do you always wake your woman this way?” I asked when I finally had breath again to speak.
“Only my courtesans.” He cradled me as if I were something very dear to him. I watched his pale, dreamy eyes, that shimmering wash of Viking hair that, unbound, fell to the level of his shoulders, and that breathtakingly sculpted, model-slim body. I wondered how I had ever thought of him as unattractive. When greatly aroused or in deep concentration he looked hard, almost cruel, but for the moment he wore a sweetly satisfied and very male expression. “You’re very pretty,” he told me, his voice a low, vibrating growl in his throat.
“I was thinking the same thing about you, sir.”
He snorted at that. “I’ve been called many thing, but never that.”
I wondered about those things. “What was it like, Wolf, growing up in Africa?”
“It was lonely.”
“I can’t imagine, in a place with so many people.”
He seemed to think about that. “For the first eighteen years of my life, I almost never ventured off my father’s estate. He made it sound like the people of Namibia would kill me if they saw me. That was during the Apartheid, you see. I had servants, of course, and a valet, but no friends.” He paused a moment. “Then my father died suddenly, and I was expected to take over the family business. For the first time in my life, I saw outside the borders of the estate, and I was appalled by the poverty and despair of my father’s people. They lived little better than animals.”
He didn’t often talk about himself, so when he did, I made a point of remembering everything. “Is that when you began your plans for the development?”
“If I don’t do it, Rachaela, no one ever will.” That was something one of his own men had told him.
“You work hard and you play hard,” I said as he looked me over like he wanted to eat me and was trying to decide on which end to start. “Viking philosophy.”
He blinked like he wasn’t quite sure he understood. Or didn’t care why he was like he was. Wolf never seemed concerned about such things. He lived in the moment, thoroughly and completely. “Touch yourself,” he told me, and my heart started doing that gallop I was so familiar with. “I want to watch you come, Rachaela.”
Lying against the pillows, I scissored my legs apart. One of my hands moved between my legs and I teased the petals of my cunt. Wolf watched with great concentration. I captured one of the roses that Wolf had used to bring me the night before and brushed it back and forth against my opening, then spread myself even wider so the folds of my labia were open like the petals of the nearly destroyed rose. Wolf’s expression remained unchanged but I could see his pulse ticking in the hollow of his throat, very fast. I
rubbed my clit in small circles until I could feel the dew gathering there. I wetted my fingers and then slid them inside my pussy. I rubbed deep inside until he stopped me, until he drew my fingers out and licked and sucked them deep into his mouth.
“I need a shower,” I explained as I watched him halve his eyes as if he’d never tasted anything sweeter. “Jerrel will be dropping Asia off in another hour.” Jesus, I hated the nervous quality of my voice, the way I sounded like some stupid battered wife dreading the return of her abusive husband.
“Turn over,” he said like he hadn’t heard me. “I want you on your hands and knees.”
I obeyed him, lowering my head just a little and elevating my ass the way he liked.
He found the Ben Wa balls in my nightstand that we had been experimenting with for the past few weeks. They were larger than any that could be bought at a regular adult toy store, weighted stainless steel, incredibly heavy and uncomfortable. I hadn’t liked them at first, so Wolf had reserved them as a form of punishment. I wondered what I had done to deserve them now. He parted the folds of my labia and forced them into my slit, five in all. I cried out like a wild animal as the last went in. That didn’t stop him, he just forced them deeper, until I could feel my entire cunt spasming around the uncomfortable weight of them. I tried to wriggle away, but he had me pressed into the bedclothes.
He leaned forward, and the pressure of his body shoved the balls even deeper inside of me so I cried out. He stopped and spanked me smartly for my outburst, warning me to be silent. I bit the pillow and worked on enduring this new conditioning as he mounted me again. I shivered at the feel of his sleek, broad chest pressing against my bare back. He gripped my breasts to anchor himself more securely as he rubbed his cock against the increasing wetness of my slit, then pushed the head of his member a little ways into the tightness of my ass.
The sudden penetration ripped a scream from my throat as he stretched me wide, but what made the sensation all the more exquisite was the feel of the balls moving in their weird, mechanical way inside my pussy as my body took him inch by inch, for no other reason than because it could not. There was no escaping him. I was impaled twice over, his courtesan, his doll to use and fill and fuck.
Wolf groaned with satisfaction into my hair and fucked my ass as he had my cunt, using those long, relentless strokes I was almost used to now—not that I would ever be used to the almost painful girth of him. His hands worked my breasts until the nipples were hard and painfully erect. He worked me inside, faster and harder, and as the tempo of this thrusts increased, he bit the nape of my neck, holding me fast in his big teeth, the wetness of his saliva dripping over the back of my neck. The bite freed me. All the points of pain came together suddenly in a giant jigsaw puzzle of pleasure—the pain of the balls in my cunt, his cock in my ass, the smarting heat of my spanked cheeks, and finally the pain of his bite—so that when I climaxed I held nothing back. I screamed and clawed at the bedclothes and called him a beast and a bastard. He held me down, still deeply embedded in me, so that after that first orgasm, I immediately came again, and then, in an agony of overstimulation, a third and fourth orgasm was wrenched from my body.
He rode me hard to his own climax. He came, and came again, so that when he finally withdrew, his come seeped down the inside of my legs. We both collapsed to the bed and I lay for a while in a kind of half dream, too weak to even move. It was left to Wolf to remove the balls and massage my sore ass. He pressed his thumb into my clit and I came again in his hand with a cry and a shiver. I cuddled against him and we sat against the pillows together as he rocked me. “Better?”
“Much,” I said. And then I added, “Thank you, sir.”
He rested his chin atop my head and ran his hand over my hair in a very possessive manner. “You can take your shower now, pet.”
“Only if you join me,” I purred against him. “I want to know what a wet Viking looks like.”
* * *
I’d just barely finished buttoning up my dress when the doorman buzzed up. I pulled on my slingbacks and left Wolf in my bedroom to put on his complicated layers of clothing while I went out into the hall to let Asia and Jerrel in. Jerrel was alone when I opened the door, and he looked less than happy. I imagined him being eaten up and spat out by the monster that my daughter had become. I didn’t greet him. Instead, I said, “Where’s Asia?”
Jerrel flinched at my tone. “She said she wanted to visit her girlfriend in 38B. Is that all right? She hasn’t seen her in a week.”
“That’s fine. That’s Christa, her friend from school.” I said. I turned my back and led him into the foyer.
He was carrying Asia’s Raven Symone bag, which he placed on the sidebar. “About the papers,” he immediately began.
“Yes,” I answered, turning to face him, ready for a fight. I was wearing a red shirtdress and black stockings and heels. Not my usual weekend clothes, and Jerrel damned well knew it.
He looked me up and down. “I’ve decided not to disrupt Asia’s schedule.”
I smiled nicely. Point for me. I wondered how many times he’d had to stop fucking his barely legal fun bunny in order to go check to make certain Asia hadn’t set his mansion on fire.
“So you win,” he said.
“Thank you, Jerrel.” I turned and stalked into the kitchen to make coffee.
I didn’t expect him to dog me into the kitchen. And neither did I expect to see Wolf standing at the stove, heating a kettle for his morning tea. Jerrel took one look at him, stopped, and blinked. It was very much a deer-in-the-headlights look, and in that moment, I felt my heart lunge up into my throat.
Wolf had promised to stay in the bedroom until Jerrel had left. But I should have known better. Wolf was good at meting out instructions, but not so good at taking them. “Would you like some tea, Mr. Lee?” Wolf cordially asked as he poured the steaming water of the kettle into a teacup and added an Earl Grey to steep. He turned to glance at Jerrel with an expression that would have better fitted his face had he lived about a thousand years ago and was about to sack Constantinople.
Jerrel looked him over, immediately sizing him up, and I just knew he noted the dampness of Wolf’s hair from my shower. “I know you,” he said. “You’re my wife’s partner.”
“She’s your ex-wife,” Wolf said, sipping his tea in a dignified manner.
“Not till the papers are filed.”
“Jerrel,” I began, wondering if I should step between them before something happened.
Jerrel offered me a withering look. “So you’re banging the fucking Nazis now?”
I glared at him. “I think you should leave.”
The cup clattered down, so we both turned back to stare at Wolf, who stood at the counter, glaring at Jerrel in a way that made my skin crawl with danger. I suddenly recalled my dream, the hunter in the deep woods. Then Wolf smiled, nicely, and I wondered what he was thinking. It wasn’t like him to back down from anything. He came around the counter and approached Jerrel. They were about the same size, both six-feet-four, both wide of shoulder and narrow through the waist and hip, though there was something almost genetically dangerous about Wolf, I decided, like a man who might do anything. He stopped when he and Jerrel were so close their foreheads were nearly touching, like two heavyweights eyeing each other up before a big fight in the ring.
Then Wolf reached down, undid his trousers, and pissed in a short, hot stream on Jerrel’s white suede Prada loafers. He gave himself one shake, put his equipment away, and zipped up. “Heil,” he said softly, and then walked out of my kitchen.
* * *
“It’s not like I’m bloody surprised or anything,” Devon said as the three of us—he, Evelyn and I—sat around the big private table at Café Luna on Broadway. He sipped his tea and wagged his eyebrows at me. “Wolfie has a hell of a temper. I saw him cane a guy once who tried to steal this old woman’s purse. And I don’t mean in some sexy, oh-baby-do-me-one-more-time kind of way. He put the guy in hospital for a week
and the bloke’s face looked like fucking hamburger.”
I shivered and tried to block out the annoyingly upbeat holiday music filtering into the café. “Lovely. Just what I need. Juvenile tactics,” I said and sipped my coffee. I decided I shouldn’t have been so open about our fight on Monday, or the reasons behind it, but with Devon and Evelyn, it was too easy to open up since I’d begun thinking of them as my BFF’s. I used to be such a private person, but there’s just something about having sex for the enjoyment of the Dollhouse Society that makes you talky, I think.
“Are you all right?” Evelyn asked with concern, touching my hand.
“I’m fine,” I said. I wasn’t feeling much in the way of anything because I was in a nice, floaty headspace, thanks to the Zoloft I’d taken. I’d begun taking it again since I’d quit working as Wolf’s courtesan.
The fight had been brutal, and mostly my doing, admittedly. I’d marched into Wolf’s office on Monday morning and told him point-blank to stay the fuck out of my affairs with regards to my family.
Wolf hadn’t reacted well to being shoved around. “He’s hurting you, Rachaela,” he said as he worked over our subscriber spreadsheets. He looked at me with a fierce annoyance that probably had very little to do with my disturbing his work. “He’s hurting you and I’m not the type of man who is willing to stand by and let that happen.”
I knocked the spreadsheets to the floor. “That isn’t your concern, is it?”
“You are my concern. You and Asia.”
“Don’t you dare, Wolf!” I nearly screamed at him like some hysterical old woman. “You’re my gentleman, not my husband or boyfriend…or even my fucking friend right at the moment. Don’t act like our arrangement is real, like you care oh so much about Asia…like we’re some kind of fucking family, all right?”
He stared at me blankly. Maybe he didn’t realize how serious this was, what he had done the day before. His eyes darkened and his face sharpened. “Is that how you feel, Rachaela? That what we have isn’t real?”
