Wolfe
Kiara had lowered the dose of the drug. Once suppertime had come and gone, I was certain. Her allure had never dissipated, but instead of being willing to appreciate and not fuck, now I was thoroughly interested in mounting her on my cock and screwing her into the floor.
Gently, gently, my new mindset told me.
Whatever else this drug had done, it’d given me back my smarts.
The writhing spider things, the tentacles, whatever lived at the back of my head – those never went away. Unlike before, I aimed not to tear both of us apart.
That was the trick. The right amount of drug balanced me on the edge.
“Come.”
“What?” Kiara kept pouring scotch and didn’t look at me, quite. Nervous? Inside her head, she was twangier than a wound-up guitar string.
“All I need is you.” I took the glasses of wine and the scotch from her and placed them on the counter top then led her by the hand into the library.
Her blue dress was some heavy yet soft material that flared and swished around her legs at mid-thigh. I rested an appreciative hand on her lower back to guide her.
She had an inkling of what this meant. After all, she’d given me the lower dose.
I’d suggested the dress for tonight and some pretty lace underwear. A woman in the town had gone shopping elsewhere and brought clothes back for me.
The fire was stoked high, the room warm enough to get naked.
I sat on the sofa and drew her to me, to stand while I ran my hands up the backs of her thighs until I found her ass.
“Eighth wonder of the world. I could feel your ass all day.”
Nervous, she smiled back.
Nothing, not even my cock, was telling me what to do tonight. Slowly, letting both of us soak into the pleasure of the moment, I smoothed my hands over her – her ass then her back, before running my fingers between her legs over the lace, then back to squeezing her ass again. Toying with her.
When she’d relaxed, with a small curve forming on her parted lips and her hands resting on my shoulders, when her body followed my hands, begging for more, I spoke quietly.
“I know you’ve been feeding me a drug to stop me going too crazy.” She tried to step away but I shook my head and she subsided. Her teeth snagged a corner of her lip.
“I can feel your fear. You think I’ll punish you? No.”
“Why?” came out squeaky and she tried again. “Why?”
“Because I want to love you and not destroy you. That’s your doing.” I leaned back and just held her hands by the fingertips. “I’m thinking straight again. I know who I am.” When her mouth fell open, I shook my head. “Not that. No. I mean I understand myself and what might happen. I want to make love to you, nicely, not half kill you. I want us both to like it.”
Her mouth made an O of astonishment. I put my finger across her lips.
“Yes. But what you like isn’t simple, is it?”
“I...” She looked down at where I held her fingers. Her mouth writhed. “I don’t know.”
“I do. I have some memories. I remember you loving some of the dirtiest things. And I know what’s in here.” My lips twisted in amusement as I stroked the side of her forehead. “That’s okay because I like my love-making dirty too.”
Her frown was cute enough to make me want to kiss it away.
“If I make you hurt while I fuck you, you’ll like that.”
With my hands on her back, I drew her between my legs.
Her hand went to where I was kneading her ass, to cover my hand, to feel me, and her throat moved in a swallow of arousal. “Maybe.”
“Maybe? Lying isn’t allowed.” I pulled my hand from beneath hers to grab the back of her thigh. My fingers pushed between her legs, forcing the material of her dress in there too. Through the dress, my thumb stroked her skin. “I’ve not been in control of myself before, or not for long. I want to play you like an instrument.” I pinched her thigh and held it, while her grimace become a small sigh. Such a cute liar. “Like a maestro with a beautiful violin he wants to hear make beautiful sounds. Well-fucked sounds, in your case. And then...”
She’d been listening, avidly, but I stopped. Wait. Wait... Telling her I loved her should wait.
“And then?”
“Such bright eyes. Such nice wriggling.” I reinforced my possession of her thigh by shifting my grip and squeezing her hard. “Shhh now, until I say to talk.”
Her hair was twisted into a bun. I held her neck to pull her down to my mouth then kissed her softly. The sigh of air from her lips was harsher than my kissing. Impatient, she tried to pounce on my mouth.
“No. You will wait.”
The bun unraveled under my fingers and her hair spilled loose in waves of black. I kissed her again as I drew the shoulders of her dress down her arms. Then I bared her breasts, slipping them from the cups of her bra.
“Pretty tits.”
She grunted, unhappy.
“Don’t like that?”
At the wrinkling of her forehead, I chuckled. Underneath her annoyance she was pleased. Mild objectification was something she liked.
Which only made me wonder if heavy objectification worked as well. Had I tried that already and forgotten?
“What would turn you on? Being fucked with your head in stocks? Or collared and leashed and tied to the floor? Hmmm?”
At my suggestions, her mind had turned into chaos. Aroused, scared, but mostly aroused.
Below each breast, I ran a finger along the bunched material of the bra cups. I lowered my head then used my finger grip to tug each breast toward my mouth. I teased and licked, nipped. Kissing her nipples until they shrank and hardened into nubs gave me a bite-able target then a whimpering girl.
My teeth on her nipple, stretching it outward then releasing it, before I sucked, made her squirm so much. I had to wrap my hand around her breast to keep her from moving away.
Already, she was so worked up she was glazed of eye.
Only then did I encourage her dress to slip down her body. The cloth caressed her curves, as it flowed then puddled around her ankles.
My mouth found the lacy triangle of her panties. I kissed her mound through them and bit her. Her moans and breathy sighs became louder, her hands tangled in my hair and urged my head toward her again.
Tsking, I straightened then I removed her bra. “If you can’t be still, I need to tie your hands. Turn.”
“Um.” She dithered, maybe dumbstruck by my lack of force, of command. I only waited. Eventually she gave in and shuffled around to present her wrists at her back.
Two, crossed wrists.
A simple thing that said so much.
The headiness of her obeying me was almost as good...I halted in thought. As good as forcing her to. Better? I wasn’t sure. The flurry of cruel desires at the edges of my mind made that a hard one to compare. The things within me lusted. Were they me or something foreign, alien? One day, I’d discover this. Not now. I shoved them away then twined the blue bra around her wrists and knotted it, firmly.
Take care, I reminded my tamer brain. Her hands needed blood.
Just seeing her fingers wrapped in each other and the tie on her wrists made my dick harder.
Not once had I commanded her. This night must be ours, our desires entangled.
Tied up, quiet – apart from a few moans, and ready for me to do what I wanted. What was in the basement wanted exploring...
That could come later. Much, much later.
Rolling her panties down until her slit was reachable, seeable, lickable, that came next. “Are you wet enough?”
She tossed her hair as if to say no, and I snorted. “Liar. Just for that I’m using the steel-spiked dildo on you when we go downstairs.”
Her gasp of indignation made me grin.
That sounded fun, if only I knew where that was. Was it real? I hadn’t seen one when cleaning.
The dark things writhed, beckoned. I was certain a dildo with faux steel spikes was do
wn there, in a drawer.
Was my memory was coming back? Magnus and I must’ve played with women together. Of all the things to forget.
A steel-pronged wooden dildo... The spikes dithered between real and not-real in my memory. I knew which I’d prefer.
This was supposed to be nice fucking.
Test her boundaries. One never knew if one didn’t try, especially where dildos with spikes were concerned.
“Wolfe –” she began.
“Didn’t I say no more talking?” I reached out mentally.
She shushed. Sometimes it was best to enforce orders.
Chapter 23
Kiara
If Wolfe bit and pulled on the skin of my butt one more time, my eyes would pop. My nipples still burned with what he’d done to them. Fuck. My heart was throbbing fast as could be. My breathing was hoarse in my ears. Though he’d stopped me talking, he’d left me freedom to do or not do, to think, or not think, in every other way. And I was still turned on beyond belief.
Freedom, a novel concept where he was concerned.
I tested the binding on my wrists and was tempted to get loose. It would mean the destruction of the bra but...oh my, the idea undid me. I pulled and twisted, wrenched, and something snapped behind my back. Grinning devilishly, I reached blindly and grabbed his hair.
“Ah-huh.” His matter-of-fact tone was unnerving, and more than a little diabolical, but I hung on.
Until...he took hold of my wrists again, bit my ass even harder. I squeaked out a bitten-off stream of noes that weren’t quite the finished word and sounded like panicked grunts – which they were. Not talking was bizarrely elevating my arousal. Finally, after one last shudder, I ceased squirming and waited for him to release my flesh.
With his fingers gentle on my hips, he turned me to face him.
“Naughty. Now you see what happens when you deliberately rip through bondage I place on you.”
With little effort, he picked me up, bodily, to arrange me stomach down over the arm rest of the sofa with my arms in front and my hands clasped. He entwined my fingers with each other, one by one, as if they were some intricate puzzle.
Kneeling, he delivered his next words from inches away. His finger pressed on my nose. “Don’t move, at all, while I decide on your punishment.”
God. The word punishment had jellied into me, heated and laden with a delicious sort of scariness. What was he planning?
Everything he did to me tonight had a sexual context, an overtone. That enthralled me. Or rather, he did. Wolfe.
How apt that he had the name of a predatory animal.
Even thinking of his name, Wolfe, in the privacy of my head inclined me to shivering. Now that he was controlling himself, his presence had a potency that stamped itself on the very air I breathed. I inhaled his power, got off on it, because I was his focus.
“Understand?”
I nodded and I licked my lips, ending up with my tongue tip seemingly glued to my upper lip because foggy thoughts of punishment were whizzing about in my head, until he smirked at me. I sucked my tongue back in and tried to look blasé, despite being ass up over a sofa.
“Good.” He rose to his feet and walked away.
Then he began to amass a collection of things on the sofa before me. After some puzzlement, I realized all of them could plausibly be used on my rear end.
A book, a hardback, was placed there. A curtain cord. His belt. What looked like a stick. A spatula from the kitchen. Last of all, he walked over with something long and thin that had him examining it before he reverently positioned it on the upholstery.
In the firelight, with reflections making one side of it gleam, was the iron fire poker. Jesus H...that was metal.
His expression was contemplative, as if using it was a possible.
No way. I cleared my throat and his gaze flashed to me – a beast spotting a meal that squeaked.
Shocked, I froze.
He was being nice, he’d said. Was that even possible with this man?
Chapter 24
Wolfe
The look on her face, after I placed the poker on the sofa, priceless.
“You think I won’t use it?”
She made some small sound so I crouched and shifted the poker closer to her. The poker was heavy, rusty, lethal looking – all the elements that made my balls happy.
Resist.
Oh, I would. I just loved her expression.
“I can imagine the effect on you, even if used lightly. The bruises... Perhaps it would be the right punishment? Or would you rather this?” I retrieved the stick instead. The poker would be an assault rather than a sadistic pain that might enhance her pleasure, but the mind fuck was awesome...because, she almost believed me.
Yes. The whisper of the word echoed in my head.
There was something wrong with that and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Her, though, I could definitely finger her.
I stood with the stick in hand, swished it back and forth. “Maybe later? We can toy with the poker later.”
Fingering. Hmmm. I wriggled the cloth of her panties down again. Somehow she’d righted them after I’d exposed her before. “Did you pull these up when I wanted to see your pussy? Damn. Double punishment. Next time, don’t.”
Her gasp at the first strike seemed the beginning of my concerto.
I remembered my aim – this night was for both of us. And that I loved her. So I switched her ass red, leaving a few stripes and scratches, then I bit her to make her wriggle, then I fucked her with my fingers.
If only I had that dildo.
Her pussy was dripping already. I pulled her panties all the way down, lifted each foot off the rug to strip them from her. The crotch was wet and they’d not even been in contact with her pussy while I’d been switching her.
Such a pretty, moaning, and quivering wreck. Such a striped ass. I drew a fingernail down a few of the stripes to see her twitch and moan. And I’d barely begun.
“Still making noises?” I whispered. “Open your mouth.”
I leaned over her.
Tears had dribbled from the corners of her eyes.
While I stuffed the panties past her lips, I licked at the tears and kissed her cheek. The belt would be sexy wrapped across her mouth and buckled, but I wanted to use it. So I wound the curtain cord around her face and across her mouth to stop her spitting out the panties. I was careful. Swallowing the cloth would be bad so I wedged part of them between the cord and her lips. She shook her head as if to dislodge the impromptu gag and I shushed her.
“It stays. Be good and I’ll be nicer.”
I’d even used a slip-knot at the back of her head so I could remove the gag, fast, if necessary.
Yes, I was nice and safety conscious. If only the poker didn’t catch my eye. It was the equivalent of a rearing cobra – deadly, but fascinating in its terrible beauty.
I wiped my forehead with the back of my arm. It was a sweaty business, making a woman scream. My cock was throbbing painfully, so I stripped, and once I had my dick in hand, what else could I do except the obvious?
Her mouth was taken. I hadn’t thought that one through now, had I?
I crouched beside the sofa again. “Want to get fucked now, Kiara?” With my finger, I traced the outside of the cord where it dug into her face, her lips where they still showed, around her eyes, then along from one eyebrow to the other.
She hadn’t made a noise and seemed hypnotized. The pain had affected her, and the dominance. I reached beneath and squeezed her nipple between finger and thumb until she jerked and whimpered. “Want to get fucked?”
Her nod was accompanied by such a cute admission of hunger in her brown eyes that I relented, releasing her nipple to kiss her gagged mouth. “Good girl.”
I went around behind her, let my cock find her pussy, and nudged inside a half-inch. The feel of that made me close my eyes for a second. But...
Her ass was raised and begging, her hands were free and clutching at
the sofa in anticipation. My forehead wrinkled. That wouldn’t do.
So I left her there and descended to the basement where I found the pair of leather cuffs I recalled. These, she wouldn’t tear loose from. They had tiny padlocks. The key – I might need that. No pockets on me, since I was naked, so I left the key on the hook on the wall. Then I ascended the spiral stairs and returned to her.
“Not moved? You’re learning. Put your hands at your back.” I locked her wrists into the cuffs and connected them, locked that too.
This time I drew my cock up and down her slit, until lubricated with her wetness, then I guided myself in, slow as the clench and release of her pussy on me, and even slower when she gripped me tighter. There was agony in making her wait, for both of us, but I stalled and toyed with the switch marks on her butt.
When I had her making small passionate noises and curving toward my pain and not away, I shoved in all the way. I fucked her until she was on tiptoes, struggling to angle her ass into my thrusts, then I pulled out and kneeled behind her. With three fingers, I impaled her, widening her entrance, stretching it this way and that while I talked quietly.
Her gag-muffled whimpers and the haze of lust rising in her mind told me I was definitely doing what turned her on, as did the wetness welling past my fingers.
“I’m not going to fuck you properly for ages. I forbid you to come, Kiara, but you can come as close...” I wormed those fingers in, full depth, then pulled out and sneaked in the fourth. Then I left them there so she was painfully full. “You can get as close to climax as you can. But don’t come.”
I made that a command. Then I waited with my four fingers penetrating her until she emerged from her dazed state.
Finally, she nodded, grunted, a reply.
“Good.”
The removal of my fingers left her slumped into the sofa and panting. Her ass swayed in an invitation. With my palms on her inner thighs, I pushed her legs wide and commenced my torture of her clit. I licked her, sucked on it, played with that nub with the tip of my tongue, then sucked on it again with greater suction.
Her squeaking made me stop and grin.
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