“Symptoms? You make it sound as if I have an illness.”
“Do you hold your breath when she enters a room? Does the thought of her make your heart beat a little faster? Does your skin feel like it’s on fire when she’s so close you can feel her breath? And would you do almost anything, give everything just to see her one more time?”
In that moment I can’t tell Colin that he’s wrong. I crave Olivia more than I have any other woman. And I have tried harder with her than I have with any other woman. But is that love? Or am I simply frustrated because my prey has gotten away again? She’s a challenge that’s all and once I have her, I can move on. That’s what I tell myself after I’ve had two more drinks.
I don’t know how I got home. But I vaguely remember Colin confiscating my car keys. And it’s not long after my head hit my pillow before I’m trapped in a perverse nightmare.
Kneeling on the hardwood floor of her bedroom. I waited for her a long time. I always did. Tonight, she planned to top me. And I would have no control over my body, she would take what she wants from me. She has conditioned my body to respond to her touch. But that wasn’t enough for her, she also had to give me the ultimate mind fuck. Pretending that I had a say in the perverted games she played. Topping from the bottom was subtle at first, but once the lines became blurred, it was hard to tell who was master and who was submissive, and once I gained control, I never let it go.
Tossing and turning I struggle to wake myself. When I finally manage to open my eyes, the bedcover is coated with my semen. Shame and disgust battle for supremacy, dropping me to my knees as I fall drunkenly out of bed. Crawling to the bathroom, I manage to climb into the shower. The hot water hits my soiled body and I welcome the burning cleanse. The suppressed anger I feel sharpens, and the darkness I’ve tried so hard to escape is clawing at me from the inside. She dragged me down a goddamn rabbit hole and my reality has been fucked up ever since she left me there. She created the monster inside me, but I unleashed it because sometimes life makes more pain than we can handle and only a monster can bare it.
By Sunday afternoon, I emerge from my bedroom, ready to conquer the world. First on my agenda is Olivia, convincing her to give me another chance. The predator in me can't resist the hunt. She can run and I'll play chase, but ultimately, she will be mine.
I make my way to the garage, climbing behind the wheel of my latest toy, an Audi R8 Spyder. I start the ignition and the engine howls, matching my temperament. It takes me no time to reach Olivia’s condo.
When I arrive, the flowers I sent her are outside her door. And the urge to punish her has me pounding my fist against that same door. I wait for what seems like an eternity before it finally swings open.
I don’t know what I expected by way of a greeting, but I sure as fuck wasn’t expecting Kyle Eastman.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” The words climb up my throat and out my mouth before I have time to edit my thoughts.
“Who is it Kyle?” Olivia asks, appearing behind Eastman.
Before he can respond, Olivia’s icy gaze locks onto mine.
“What do you want Dorian?”
Her tone causes a seething rage I’m scarcely able to contain. My fist clench and I fight the urge to push pass Eastman to claim what’s mine.
“That’s a long list. But I’ll settle for a conversation for now.”
“We were about the have lunch,” Eastman chimes in.
“This isn’t about you. However, I can make it about you if that’s what you want,” I say, taking a step forward.
Olivia manages to wedge herself between me and the fucking poacher but turns her back on me to face him instead.
“Do you mind if we do this another time?”
Eastman stares up at me before asking, “are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
“Alright, I’ll call you later.”
Turning on his heels, Eastman heads back into the condo. Olivia follows him and I follow her. Retrieving his motorcycle helmet from the coffee table, he spares a glance at me before Olivia walks him to the door to say goodbye.
The instant she closes the door I waste no time. I’m on Olivia faster than lightening, pinning her to the nearest wall.
“You are mine and if I have to piss on your goddamn door to mark my territory I will.”
I’m like a fucking animal, practically growling as my mouth covers hers. I want to devour her. Let her know that this is not a goddamn fairytale; no prince will come to save her from the big bad wolf. My tongue delves deep, lapping up each moan as they climb up her throat. I don’t know how long we go at each other. Grinding, sucking, biting and breathing so heavily until our breath become one. Once I’m able to let her go, I back away to clear my head.
“He’s just a friend,” she pants.
“We can have secrets but lies are something I won’t abide.”
“It’s not a lie, we are friends.”
“He wants to fuck you.” I bark out.
“So what if he does? We’re still just friends.”
Her naiveté is charming, but I know what the fuck I saw in his eyes. He wants her and I will make sure he knows he can’t have her.
Ever.
“If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s a goddamn duck.”
“You’re not the first man to try to seduce me, Mr. Wolff. However, I will admit you are the first to come close to succeeding. I'm a virgin, not an idiot. I know when a man wants me. And I know why some of the men at work call me Frosty behind my back. Quite frankly, its juvenile and not very original. And so is jealousy.”
I still want to punish her, fuck her in ways she has never thought possible. My cock and palm twitch in unison imagining the shades of pink on her ass cheeks.
“Now, can we talk about why you’re here?”
“We can talk, or I can put my mouth all over your body.”
Just don’t reject me. The thought surfaces and I quickly brush it aside. I’ve avoided relationships like other men avoid a bullet to the head. I close my eyes, attempting to deny what’s happening to me.
“If you want me, we do things my way. We date and we become friends first. That means dinners, movies, concerts and talking. We get to know each other without sex.”
She wants to get to know me, become friends before she will even consider letting me have her. All she needs to know is that I don't commit, I don't date, and I can make her fantasies a reality for one night. But she wants me to break all my rules for a chance at having her.
I nod in acquiescence, because I’ll agree to anything to be the first to possess that sweet peach of hers
“Okay. We’ll try it your way.”
I’m rewarded with a bright beaming smile. I will reward her with pleasure, and I will decide the punishment when she break my rules.
Chapter 10
Olivia
“DID YOU HAVE SEX WITH Eve?”
The question dangles between us and tension fills the air with the damage of a guillotine, hanging over my head waiting to sever what little progress we’ve made. When Dorian doesn’t immediately answer the question, I think I may have overstepped. As it is, we’re both treading into new territory. And it’s not like there’s a guideline of dos and don’ts for relationships.
“Sit with me.” Dorian extends his hand.
Taking his hand, he leads me to the couch. Dorian’s thumb caresses the back of my hand as we sit together for a moment. When he speaks again, he doesn’t answer my question.
“I’d rather fight with you, Sunshine, than fuck anyone else.”
My left-hand twitches, wanting to slap his face. But my right-hand can’t seem to let him go. So, I make my feelings clear.
“I don’t want to share you. I don’t want anyone else’s hands on your body. And I don’t want anyone’s mouth on yours.”
His smoky gray eyes darken with something unrecognizable.
“The last time I had sex with Eve...” He pauses before adding,
“was the night I met you over a month ago”
Accepting his answer as the truth, I nod my head. But I still have questions about his lifestyle and the Asylum.
“When was the last time you had sex?” I continue.
“Are we playing twenty questions?” He smirks, seemingly unaffected by my curiosity.
“Yes. If you like. But you have to answer honestly.”
“I always do.”
“Okay then. When was the last time you had sex?” I repeat.
“The last time I had sex or the last time I was sexual with a woman?”
“They’re not the same?” The moment I ask the question I feel stupid. “Never mind; don’t answer that. I know it’s not the same.”
“I received a blow job from a submissive at the club a week after I had sex with Eve.”
“What about Eve?” I cringe just saying her name.
“What about her?” Dorian leans back on the couch observing me closely.
“Is she also a submissive?”
“She is.”
“Is that why you had her play hostess last night?”
“That wasn’t playing Sunshine. Eve works at the club.”
I know from my intensive internet search last night exactly what Dorian means when he says, ‘that wasn’t playing’
But I ask the question anyway.
“So, you didn’t plan a scene with Eve for my benefit?”
“Someone’s been doing some research.”
Something in Dorian’s comment rattles me, and I feel ashamed of my curiosity. Lowering my head, I attempt to avoid eye contact.
“I didn’t plan a scene with Eve or anyone else.”
The things she said to me was of her own accord. Somehow knowing that Dorian didn’t plan it makes me feel ten times better.
“I didn’t go to the Asylum to play.” He continues. “My choice of restaurant was questionable, but I swear to you that’s all it was.”
“Am I just a challenge for you?”
“I’m not used to being told no.”
“And I’m not exactly the kind of woman who says yes to every command.”
“I'm used to getting what I want.”
“Then this will be a new experience for you.”
“No one is all vanilla, Sunshine. Not even a virgin.”
Vanilla. Another term I learned last night.
I honestly don’t know what flavors appeal to me sexually. What I do know is that I like how Dorian make me feel. His mouth on me, his hands on me. And the spanking, if I’m totally honest with myself I like that too. I even like that he’s aggressive.
Sometimes.
“What’s the most vanilla thing you’ve ever done in bed?”
“Sleep.” His wicked grin slays me. “I play at the Asylum. And I sleep alone in my bed.”
“You’ve never taken a woman to your bed?”
“No. Never.”
“I fuck, Olivia. I don't do warm and fuzzy and I don’t do sleepovers.”
The words he spoke last night comes back to me amplified in stereo surround sound. Along with the memory of the night he gave me an amazing orgasm, soaking my panties. But the disappointment I felt waking up alone even though he told me he wasn’t staying the night, robs me of my desire. Is that the reason he didn’t stay with me? Because he prefers to sleep alone. But why?
“Don’t concern yourself with the why, Sunshine.”
The sound of Dorian’s voice pulls me away from my thoughts. But it’s his turbulent gray eyes that hold me captive. I know there’s something he’s not saying or maybe I’m not asking the right questions. Whatever it is we have a long way to go to get to know each other.
“Have dinner with me tonight?” Dorian asks, effectively ending my questioning.
“Why don’t we make dinner instead, here at my place?”
“I’m not sure any dish I attempt to cook is edible.” He chuckles.
“Alright then, a cooking lesson it is?”
“You want to teach me to cook?”
“Yes. This is me planning our second date.”
“Our second date.” Dorian echoes.
“That’s right. My place tonight 7 o’clock sharp.”
Dorian stares as if unsure what to say next. I stand, pulling him up with me.
“You’re kicking me out?” He asks, as I lead him to the door.
“Only for a few hours. I need to go to the farmer’s market for some fresh ingredients.”
“What can I bring? I want to contribute to the meal.”
“Just yourself.”
I barely have the door open when Dorian pull me into his arms. The heat of bone-melting passion simmering below the surface come to a boil as our mouths collide in a chaotic kiss. Grinding his rigid cock against my stomach, he makes his intentions perfectly clear without asking for what he wants. I place his hands down under my hips, before wrapping my arms around his neck. Pushing up on my tiptoes, I urge him to lift me. Our moans and groans fill the air, sliding down each other’s throats. Of its own volition my hand finds its way to the back of his head. I rock up and down, rubbing my soaked panties against his cock. I can’t say I hear the words he whispers, heating my core. But when his lips are so close, and we’re breathing the same air, words don’t really matter.
Chapter 11
Dorian
IN MY FANTASY WHEN I arrive for my cooking lesson, Olivia is wearing a chef's hat and jacket, stockings and garter with sky high heels and nothing else. In reality she wears cutoff denim shorts, an oversized T-shirt and her feet are bare.
So much fucking hotter.
Her hair in a ponytail is what holds my cock’s attention. Swinging back and forth as I follow her into the kitchen. I want to wrap her platinum locks around my fist, take her from behind until she’s screaming my name.
“So, is this what you normally do on a second date?” I ask, attempting to focus my attention on something other than my throbbing cock.
“I don’t have many second dates.” Olivia confides. “Most men give up after failing to receive a good night kiss on the first date.”
I feel like a fucking kid in a candy shop when I ask, “How many times has a man gotten to third base.” Because I already know the answer.
“Once.” She confirms, before taking a big gulp of the wine she has poured for us.
“So, what are you attempting to teach me to cook for dinner?” I ask, changing the subject for now.
“I thought we might try something simple tonight.” Her words make their way to my cock and I hope she’s not talking about the meal.
I finish my glass of wine, wash my hands and tell myself not to fuck up.
The cooking lesson goes better than expected. I master the art of slicing and dicing vegetables. I learn the difference between fried and sautéed. I even manage to separate the whites from the yoke of an egg. But my biggest accomplishment comes when I whip the egg whites to perfection. And I can’t help basking in the pride I see in Olivia’s eyes. I haven’t seen that look in anyone’s eyes since my parents. I didn’t know until this moment how much I miss having someone to share in my success. How much I miss having someone to offer encouragement even if I’ve failed.
My parents had been everything to me. My cheerleaders and my biggest fans. I’ve been alone since they died; some might even say I’ve been lost without them.
Olivia moves around the table as she sets it gets my attention, bringing me back to the here and now. I put away the memories of my parents and concentrate on the evening ahead.
“Do you need any help with that?” I ask.
“I’ve got this, but you can pour us another glass of wine.” She smiles and my heart does a somersault.
“So, this is what a second date feels like?”
“I guess that depends on who you’re dating.”
I fill our silver goblets with wine as Olivia brings the food to the table. We take our seats across from each other. And I can’t help but notice how right it all feel
s. Being here with her preparing a meal together. Even small talk over dinner, it all feels natural. So why do I feel this overwhelming need to punish her. I push down the urge to bend her over the dinner table. I even manage to steady my twitchy palm. But nothing seems to sooth my aching cock.
Reaching for my wine, I’m momentarily distracted by the sound of Olivia’s voice, her icy blue gaze and her tongue peeking out to lick her lips. Adding to my growing sexual frustration, my reflexes are not quick enough to keep the goblet of wine from spilling and falling to the floor.
I berate myself for being clumsy, but its Olivia’s steady hand that contains the mess. Using our dinner napkins, she absorbs the wine on the tabletop. Making my way to the kitchen I grab some paper towels to clean the spill on the floor. Olivia kneels to pick up the goblet and I stop her.
“My mess to clean up.” I tell her. Thankful that there is no broken glass to contend with.
“I bought these wine goblets because I’ve broken so many wine glasses in the past. Not only are they perfect for keeping the wine chilled, I also don't have to worry about any glass breaking if it falls over.”
Standing, I stare at Olivia in awkward silence after picking up the goblet. Finally, I place it on the table before tossing the used paper towel in the trash bin. When Olivia speaks again, I expect her to call an end to our date. But that’s not what happens, and to my surprise the breath I didn’t know I was holding is set free.
“I hope you like chocolate.” She says, walking past me to the kitchen.
I had very little to do with preparing dessert. My only contribution was whipping the egg white to frosty peaks. Olivia returns carrying a tray, which holds two dishes.
“This way.” She beckons and I follow. “I thought a change of scenery might lighten the mood.”
Stepping out onto the balcony has the desired affect Olivia was aiming for. Taking in the view of the stars, my disposition changes almost immediately. The hanging lanterns and soft music coming through the speaker also plays a part.
“This is my favorite part of the evening, relaxing on the balcony under the stars with a glass of wine.”
Wicked Wolff Page 6