Wicked Wolff

by Reese Spenser

  Bile rises in my throat, and I race to the bathroom. My stomach settles but my anger simmers to a roaring boil setting my soul ablaze.

  My heart breaking for Dorian has me leaping into action. I need to find him. Calling his cell and his home phone without success, I realize I have no clue how to find him. His grandparents have returned to Germany and all of our mutual acquaintances are his employees. Then it occurs to me, the one friend who always seem to have Dorian’s best interest at heart. I call Colin’s restaurant hoping to find him there.

  “Colin’s Restaurant and Lounge, how may I help you.”

  “This is Olivia Frost; may I speak with Colin?”

  ‘Mr. Paine isn’t here tonight. Can I take a message?”

  “No, thank you.” I’m ready to end the call when she says.

  “Would you like to leave a message on his voice mail?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  I wait for the call to be transferred to Colin’s voicemail and leave him a message, hoping he will return my call soon.

  Nearly an hour later, I receive a text from Colin. Just one word.

  Asylum.

  It’s after midnight when I reach the Asylum. I have no problem with the membership requirements for entry thanks to Colin. But he’s nowhere in sight and somehow the energy feels different walking in alone. The music sounds louder, and the men look more intimidating. I take a seat at the bar, order a drink to calm my nerves. It’s not until I order drink number three, I find the courage to look around the room and that’s when I see Dorian. He’s sitting with Colin, engrossed in conversation. Leaving the drink untouched, I tip the bartender, before making my way across the room to Dorian’s table.

  I feel Dorian’s possessive gaze on me the instant he sees me walking toward him. Without voicing it, everyone in the club knows I belong to him. Every step I take closer to him the earth shifts beneath my feet, making me weak in the knees.

  Coming face to face, I see the reflection of my heartache in his sullen gray eyes. The week apart has affected him just as deeply as it has affected me. Still I wonder if he’s ready to share his burdens with me so we can move forward together.

  Chapter 21

  Dorian

  I’M SITTING AT A TABLE with Colin, nursing two fingers of Glen Garioch scotch when Colin stops mid conversation.

  “Shit’s about to get interesting,” he says.

  I follow Colin’s gaze to the woman walking toward us. I’m sure my eyes are playing tricks on me. I see Olivia’s face everywhere I go and I still feel the lingering ghost of her touch. It takes my brain a moment to realize what my dick already has. It’s Olivia wearing a skintight black dress and sky-high red heels. Her graceful strides seduce me with every step. Adrenaline erupts in my veins, heating my blood. I want to strip her bare and follow the curves of her body with my mouth, devouring every inch of her.

  “Do you mind if I speak with Dorian alone?”

  “You should never wait to say I love you. You may not get a second chance,” Colin says for my ears only. Vacating his seat, he offers it to Olivia, and she takes it. Leaving Olivia and I to our own devices, Colin gets lost in the crowd.

  Olivia reach for my hand and I let her take it. I’ve been incapacitated by the loss of her, and I didn't realize how lonely I am until I saw her face. One touch and she bring me back to life, air fills my lungs, expanding my chest. And I remember how she gave herself to me, gave me her total submission. I want more. I want her. My sunshine.

  What I feel for Olivia escapes definition, but love describes it best. To say I've fallen in love for the first time is an understatement. I feel like I’m flying through space at warp speed. And even if I crash and burn it will be worth it.

  “Can we go somewhere private?”

  Anticipation swells my cock. The thought of taking her to my playroom again makes me deaf to the real reason she’s requesting privacy.

  “We need to talk. It’s important.”

  I finally hear the seriousness in Olivia’s tone.

  “We can talk in the playroom, if that’s okay with you?”

  Entering my playroom with no expectation of sex, forces me to accept that I only want Olivia to share it with me. The door closes behind us and I wait for her to speak.

  “Who is CC?”

  I wish I could say I’m surprised Carina found a way to get to Olivia. What does surprise me is how I no longer want to hide in the darkness, by pushing away my sunshine. The truth claws its way up my throat, and I set it free.

  “You once asked why I quit acting.”

  “You said you grew tired of being told what to do and how to behave.”

  “That’s right, but there’s so much more to it than that.”

  Olivia takes a seat on the bed, urging me to sit next to her. I remain standing, pacing to collect my thoughts.

  “Carina Channing was my uncle Peter’s wife. They took guardianship of me after my parents died. My uncle died of Pneumonia two years later. I was eleven years old when she became my sole guardian. The physical abuse started soon after.” Olivia remains silent, but I see the horror in her eyes. When she doesn’t try to hide it from me, I continue. “I was fourteen when the sexual abuse started, and too much of a coward to stop her. She used physical and sexual abuse to train me to be her submissive.”

  “Dorian.” Olivia whispers my name, but all I hear is pity in her voice.

  I ignore her pity and my shame in favor of banishing demons.

  “She would write script after script. I had to memorize them like any other role I’d been cast in. The following day we would do the scene, with me in the role of her dead husband. My uncle. When I was fifteen, I knew I shouldn’t want her, but I did, and I hated myself every goddamn time I gave into her. I had no control over my body back then and the wicked games we played went on for nearly two years. If she was kneeling when I came home, I knew she wanted to do the scene. I knew she wanted me to top her. Topping from the bottom was difficult at first, she had trained me to take commands, not give them. But I’ve always been a quick learner and after a while it was hard to tell who was master and who was submissive. Once I gained control, I never let it go.”

  Olivia meets my gaze, staring into my eyes as if the secrets to the universe have been revealed to her.

  “Then one day she was gone. After she left, I didn’t know how to interact with girls my own age. My needs had changed and the girls I knew weren’t into the lifestyle. I was alone for a long time. Then I found a place where I could be myself and not be judged.”

  “The Asylum?” Olivia asks.

  “No, it was a BDSM club in England.

  Olivia reaches into her purse, pulling out a folded letter.

  “I received this the day after you ended our relationship.”

  At the time pushing her away seemed like a good idea. The weight of shame lowers my head, realizing I could have made a better choice. I could have been honest with her.

  I take the letter; however, I don’t bother reading it. One quick look is enough to recognize Carina’s handwriting. She took what she wanted from me, conditioned my body to respond to her touch and her commands. I don’t need to read about it; I lived it.

  “I hate that I enjoyed it. Dominating her, punishing her. So, when she punished me, I knew I deserved it.” My head bows in shame, knowing a small part of me liked giving up control, not having to worry about anything.

  “It wasn’t enjoyment you felt. Your body responded to sexual stimulation and that’s something you have no control over and that’s totally different from consensual pleasure.”

  “That need is still a part of me now. I can’t ignore who I am.”

  “I will walk in the shadows with you Dorian. There’s nothing you can do or say that will scare me away.”

  The conviction I hear in Olivia’s voice gives me hope. Crossing the room, I take a seat on the bed next to her, but I can’t bring myself to meet her gaze.

  Demanding my attention Olivia press
es her finger under my chin, lifting my head so that I’m facing her.

  “I could give that to you if you chose it. If that’s what you need.”

  I don’t have any amour against her. She’s what I’ve been waiting for. She’s what I need. But the fear of judgement drops my head once again.

  “I didn’t want to like it, but I did.” I confess shamelessly.

  “May I touch you?”

  My words are barely audible when I whisper.

  “Yes, please.”

  Olivia cups my face with gentle hands, one on each cheek. When she leans in to kiss me, I give up control and give in to the sweet demands of her mouth. I don’t know how long after giving in to the pleasure of her kiss and the rough tug she gives my hair, but the voice in my head is practically begging to be punished for hurting her. When Olivia’s mouth releases mine a breathless moan escape.

  “You were my first, it will always be special me, even if it meant...”

  A kiss will always be the best way to shut her up. I claim her mouth, silencing the words I never want her to say. The gift she gave me means everything. Breaking the kiss, I set the record straight.

  “I’m your last, Sunshine. You are mine. There will be no one else for you.”

  “You still want us?”

  “I’m broken Sunshine, but I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

  “I’ve haven’t had a boyfriend since high school. But I know I only want you.”

  I cringe at the word boyfriend; the label seems juvenile to me; especially sense I was never anyone’s boyfriend.

  “I’m not your boyfriend.” Olivia frowns and I clarify. “I’m your lover and your partner.”

  Standing, I offer Olivia my hand. Lacing her fingers through mine, she stands beside me.

  “Lets’ get out of here,” I suggest.

  “Powder room first.” Olivia says, releasing my hand.

  Waiting for Olivia to return from the powder room, I make a call to Winston Tillery. Winston has maintained my home for ten years. I can only imagine what he must be thinking, given my behavior over the past several weeks. Hopefully, my request will not send him into shock. Answering my call on the third ring, Winston’s voice is groggy with sleep. For a moment I feel a sting of guilt, waking him. A short conversation to relay my instructions, has me ending the call as Olivia steps out of the powder room.

  My playroom has lost its appeal for now. I want to take Olivia home, make love to her until sunrise, then start all over again. I’ve missed her more than I ever thought possible. I know now that pushing her away was never the answer. If tearing down the walls I built to protect myself, means letting Olivia in, I’m ready to start building something new. Something better.

  Chapter 22

  Olivia

  DORIAN HAS BARELY CLOSED the door of his Malibu beach house before the ferocity of his kiss bruises my lips.

  “I’ve been starving without you, Sunshine.” Dorian breathes against my mouth.

  His kisses soak my panties every time. Makes me wonder why I bother wearing them.

  “I’ve missed you too.” Covering my mouth again, my confession slips down his throat.

  Our kiss feels different this time, the passion is still there, but the desperation is gone. I can only assume he feels as I do; we have all the time in the world. The warmth of his body seeps into me, chasing away any lingering doubts I have about his commitment to us.

  It's not long before Dorian lifts me off my feet. Climbing the stairs to the master bedroom, I cling tightly to him. Not because I fear he will drop me, but because I know I have already fallen.

  Dorian’s bedroom is bathed in soft flickering candlelight, a stark contrast from the masculinity his bedroom usually exudes. My heart flutters overwhelm by his effort to apologize.

  “You didn’t have to do all this for makeup sex.” I tease.

  “What I did to you gutted me.” Dorian says, placing my feet firmly on the floor. “I need to apologize for hurting you.”

  I wait for him to say the words, but they don’t come. Instead he turns me around so that I’m no longer facing him.

  “Besides, I’ve never had makeup sex.” The tone in his voice tells me he’s looking forward to every second of it.

  The zipper of my dress slides down my back, followed by Dorian’s lips brushing sensually against my bare skin. The dress falls to the floor, puddling at my feet. I shiver with delight when I feel his tongue sliding under the waistband of my thong. But that’s merely foreplay compared to the uncontrollable shutter my body gives, when Dorian’s teeth graze my ass cheek, pulling my thong down past my hips.

  Kneeling behind me, he stands slowly, gliding his tongue up the length of my spine.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you, Sunshine. I won't ever give you a reason to leave me again.” He whispers against my neck.

  I turn to face him, needing to look him in the eye.

  “I forgive you.” These aren’t the words I want to say, but they’re the ones he needs to hear.

  His arms wrap around my waist, holding me close. I barely hear the ‘thank you’ he murmurs against my lips. The kiss ends too soon, with Dorian stepping away from me.

  “I want you in my bed on your back.”

  The growl of his command sends a rush of excitement to my heart. But I don’t know what possess me to disobey him.

  “And what if I don’t want to go to your bed?” I counter.

  Dorian’s smoky eyes dances with the flickering light of the candles, giving me all the feels. I continue with my pretense, knowing the outcome.

  “And what if...”

  Dorian pulls me to him. His left arm wraps around my waist, bending me over. It’s what he did the first time he spanked me. My heart skips a beat and I remind myself to breathe. I never thought I would view a spanking as anything more than a cruel punishment. Until Dorian.

  “Is this what you want, Olivia?”

  My thoughts are frantic, desperately fighting to hide my eagerness.

  Dorian’s palm lands hard on my right ass cheek, sending deliciously erotic heat to my center. I welcome his fiery palm against my left ass cheek, silently begging for more. Dorian releases me and a disappointing moan escapes my throat.

  “Bed, now.” Dorian orders.

  I stare up at him, seeing my lover give way to the dominant.

  “Or would you like me to withhold your orgasms? Is that what you want, Olivia?”

  Dorian repeats his earlier question. Only this time it’s a warning.

  “No, Sir.”

  Approval curls his lips into a smile that should be labeled flammable.

  Warning Panty Melter.

  My steps are calculated; slowly I stroll over to the bed. I want Dorian to see my pink ass cheeks swaying, extending an invitation I hope he finds enticing. Climbing onto the bed, I position myself for him.

  I don’t have to wait long before he’s fully naked, lying between my legs. His breath warms my inner thighs. Reaching out to him, I stroke his left cheek.

  “Tell me again,” he whispers.

  Not waiting for an answer, Dorian’s tongue glides over my throbbing clit. Taking my nub deeply into his mouth, he devours me with the hunger of an untamed animal. Just when I think I can’t take anymore, his tongue sinks intimately inside me, sending me tumbling over the edge. Ripple after ripple, I ride the waves of an intense orgasm.

  “I’m yours,” I pant breathlessly, repeatedly.

  I feel the length of Dorian’s body covering mine. The weight of him is a welcome anchor after his absence. My arms wrap around his back, attempting to pull him closer.

  “I’m yours,” he groans.

  His erection presses against the folds of my sex, teasing me. I bloom for him, opening fully. His cock slides into my center, stretching me slowly, penetrating me deeply and filling me completely.

  Our bodies collide rhythmically, dancing to the harmonic moans and groans of unrestrained passion. The tempo of my heart matches Dorian’
s pounding pace, as he composes a symphony with his body. I get lost in the melodic cadence of his voice and the pulse of his cock. My center clenches and unclenches around him, begging for release. I’m close to the edge when one deep thrust pushes me over. Dorian follows, falling with me.

  When the alarm clock goes off Monday morning, I find myself snuggling against Dorian, my back to his chest. After reconnecting with him all day yesterday, I couldn’t bring myself to leave him last night. For the past thirty hours we were able to shut the world out, allowing ourselves to get lost in a fantasy, believing no one exists beyond these walls.

  Dorian stirs, pulling me closer to him. His lips brush my ear, gently caressing it with his warm breath.

  “Time to rise, my sunshine,” he whispers.

  Turning to face him, my lips part, seeking his. Kissing this man is something I can never deny myself. His firm but gentle lips exert just the right amount of pressure. I yield to the exploration of his tongue circling mine. Teeth nipping and sucking my bottom lip elicits a deep moan. I don’t know how long we stay in bed, sharing a good morning kiss. But when I pull away to catch my breath, Dorian is as breathless as I am. The gray eyes staring back at me appears less haunted. And I’m convinced it has everything to do with choosing a future with me instead of hiding his past from me.