by A. J. Downey
“Don’t come yet,” he says as I begin to tremble with expectation.
“Oh, fuck…” I don’t know if I can stop it. My hands reach for anything to cling to, one of them curling over the curved arm of the settee, the other fisting a handful of Wolf’s shirt. I focus on my fingers clenching the fabric and try to stave off the tidal wave that is bearing down on me.
“Wolf…Wolf…I’m…”
Suddenly he withdraws—lips, tongue, fingers, everything, and my orgasm hovers there, just out of reach. Wolf presses his lips to the back of my thigh with a chuckle.
“Do you still like to play this game, angel?”
“Oh, god, yes…” I breathe. Edging is the game. Being brought to the edge of orgasm then pulled back, over and over until you lose your fucking mind. Do I still like this game? I fucking love it. And despite years of trying I’ve never managed to find someone as good at it as Wolf.
He slides my legs off his shoulder and lets them fall back onto the settee. His face softens as he looks at me and even though my pants are around my knees and we’re halfway into a kinky game in a public gallery, my heart swells with the sudden romance of it. Me and Wolf, together again, just like I’ve been dreaming for years.
“You’ve hardly changed,” he says as his fingers trail down to unzip my boots.
“It’s only been five years. You’ve hardly changed at all either.”
He just shakes his head at my blatant lie. His long dreadlocks are gone, and his slender boyish body has been replaced by manly brawn, tight muscles, broad shoulders, a firm, masculine jaw. I run my hand over his face as he removes one boot.
“Are you going to completely undress me?”
“Yes,” he says with a cheeky smirk. “It will be much easier to do the things I want to do to you if you’re naked.”
“Maybe we could go into a room?” I look down the hallways on either side of the landing, and the dark wood doors that line them.
“All the rooms are empty, babe. This couch is the only furniture in the whole place. Apart from the dining room.” He tosses a second boot away and peels off my leather pants and panties.
As he undresses me in silence I can hear the din of the breakfast crowd in the dining room, only a staircase and a doorway away. Any of them could come up here at any moment and see me, naked and spread out on a faded damask settee like a French whore.
And I don’t care. All I care about is Wolf and the places where our bodies meet, his fingers as he strips off my t-shirts and bra, his mouth as he spreads my legs and caresses my folds with his tongue. It’s enough pressure to arouse me but not enough to draw that orgasm back from where it lingers on the horizon. After a few tantalizing seconds he stops, moving his lips up to my navel which he circles with kisses. I gasp as I feel his long fingers breach me again, one then two then three slowly penetrating my core, retreating, then advancing once more.
Just as I think the lightest touch on my clit will push me over, and I move my own hand down to achieve this, he stops, grabbing my hand, stilling it as the sparkling unreachable climax dances in my vision before fading once more.
“No…ah…fuck…”
Wolf just chuckles into my belly button. “NO touching,” he says firmly. “Do I need to tie you up?”
Bizarrely, this is the moment my eyes fill with tears. Seeing me as he glances up, Wolf becomes concerned.
“Are you okay? Do you want to stop?”
“No,” I sob. “No, please. It’s just…it’s like no time has passed at all. Like losing you was all a bad dream.”
He pulls one of my t-shirts from the pile of clothes and dabs at my tears with it. His expression is inscrutable for a moment, then my heart leaps into my throat as I see his eyes glass over. Knowing he wouldn’t want me to see him cry I take back the moment, rescuing it from the brink of an emotional avalanche that neither of us is ready to face.
“And yes,” I say. “You do need to tie me up.”
He grins, stretching out the sleeve of one of my t-shirts and twisting it around my wrists, which he pulls back, winding the other sleeve around a leg of the spindly table next to the settee. When he’s finished he steps back to appraise his work.
“Not my best result,” he says. “But it will do.”
And then he stands there looking smug as my body flushes with warmth. It’s both embarrassing and arousing being exposed like this where anyone coming up the stairs could see me trussed up and displayed.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers as he drops to his knees in front of me. I open my legs, wrapping them around him as he kisses my mouth hungrily. His fingers circle my head, tightening into fists in my hair and the burning of my scalp only intensifies the aching need below. I feel as though I’ll die if I don’t have him inside me in the next sixty seconds.
“Fuck me, Wolf, please…”
He releases my hair, his hands drop to fumble with his belt and buttons. Then grabbing my hair again with one hand, he guides his engorged cock over my glistening folds, and in between to press firm circles on my clit with the hard helmeted tip.
But he doesn’t fuck me. He doesn’t put his cock in me though it’s literally the only thing I want from life at this moment. I would give up my entire empire of Dharkness just to fuck him.
The torture begins again. With fingers, tongue and cock he caresses and massages my sex, biting and sucking my nipples, invading my mouth with hard breathy kisses, until I squirm and tremble, the heat burning me from the inside out. And as though he knows my body and mind better than I do, he always retreats just as the orgasm begins to crest the summit, letting it recede, enough for me to take a breath, but not to recover. Then he resumes my heavenly torment.
His fingers slide into my pussy, where they pump firmly, insistently while he sucks my clit, his soft moans vibrating until I’m peaking again.
“Wolf…” I whimper, and as he withdraws both tongue and fingers. “No…no…”
“Not yet,” he says.
He gently massages my arms and shoulders, where the tug of the restraints is beginning to cause them to seize up. My eyes roll, blurring and focusing as my reason returns enough to see he has unbuttoned his shirt. The Fallen Fiends tattoo that once graced his chest has been expertly covered with an oddly unthreatening owl. I use my foot to push the shirt aside and get a better look.
“I’ve always been very interested in ornithology,” he says with a wry grin, bending to lay a path of gentle kisses over my knee and thigh. “Birds, chicks, angels. Anything with wings really.” His kisses tumble like jewels down to the center of my need and I almost pray that this time he’ll let me come.
He closes his lips around my clit and sucks as his hands slide up the inside of my thighs, squeezing the generous flesh there as though he could mold it to his whim. When his hands reach my sex he easily slides a thumb into my ass, while his fingers return to my pussy, resuming the thrumming delicious anguish of letting me rise and linger on the cusp of release until he has to free one of his hands to press my other t-shirt over my mouth to stifle my screams. Finally when I think I can take no more he rises up, fisting his straining cock and shoving it home, balls deep in one thrust.
The orgasm that erupts inside me is like nothing I’ve ever felt—a tsunami of sensation and ecstasy that seems to have no beginning and no end. I writhe, no longer able to stop the tears pouring down my cheeks as Wolf fucks me, gasping for breath himself within seconds.
“Angel…I need to come…”
“Uh huh…” I manage, muffled under the shirt over my mouth. Wolf tears it away and falls on my mouth like a possessed animal, his tongue diving in and wrapping around mine, his teeth biting my bottom lip as he thrusts hard and deep, throbbing with his release.
We lie there for a long time, letting the blazing fire fade into a glorious warmth between us. Wolf reaches up and undoes the loose knot at my wrists so I can caress him as he pulls out. Sitting next to me, he lifts me into his lap and cradles me possessively, protect
ively. I can feel his heart beating as I lean back against his chest, curling up in his arms. He lets his head drop and rests his face on my bare shoulder.
After a few minutes I realize he’s crying.
“Oh Wolf…”
“I’m fine,” he says sniffing. He squeezes me, pulling me closer.
“Was prison terrible?” I can’t think of anything else to say. Wolf was never one of those tough guys to hide all his emotions, but I’ve never seen him really cry before.
“No, not terrible. Lonely.” The heat of his heavy sigh warms a circle of my skin at the back of my neck. “The loneliness was terrible. I missed you.”
“Did anyone in the club visit you?”
“Those fuckers? No. But they had the decency at least to count me as one of them while I was inside. That kept the perverts away from me at least. No one wants to fuck with the Fiends.”
“And now? They don’t count you as one of them anymore? I noticed you covered your club tatt.”
“The Fiends are gone, baby. It’s a long story but that’s why I’m out. That’s why I’m Wolfgang Mikelsen now. At least you can still call me Wolf.”
“Gone? How?” I ask, feeling a rush of unexpected relief. All this time I thought it would be a Fiend to come after me. Or a Fiend to finish Wolf off. Or both.
“The prospects all bailed. Viper and Rox patched into the Wretched Sons in July. That was after they set up the Sons to finish off Zigzag at last.”
I hold my breath for a long moment. “Zigzag is dead?” I say in a tiny voice. Zigzag, so named for his wildly unpredictable fits of violence, had been the cause of all our problems, a ruthless killer who targeted Wolf as his apprentice (after the previous candidate “disappeared”). And when Wolf balked, Zigzag came after me. The details of how that went down are something I would rather forget. Learning that Zig is dead is a weight off my shoulders the size of a planet.
“Yo, Wolf!” A voice calls up the stairs. Wolf calmly tucks my leather jacket over my nakedness.
“What?”
“Crooksy and I are done cleaning up. The guys are on their way out. Want us to lock the door?”
“Just close it. I’ll come down and lock up in a minute.”
We’re both sniggering with laughter as I dress to the sounds of two dozen happy diners clearing out of the dining room.
“Do you live here now?” I ask, buttoning my leather pants.
Wolf shrugs. “For now. I found the owner. Old dude. Wants to retire. But he hasn’t been able to find a buyer. He remembered me from the old days.”
The old days, I think. It was only five years ago. So much has changed.
“He was happy to let me keep an eye on things,” Wolf continues. “You know, keep squatters out.”
“So you feed them instead? The squatters?”
“Ha! Yeah. I go around the restaurants and stores getting their discarded stuff and manage to put something together most days. Breakfast and dinner usually. Tonight I’m doing turkey chili.”
“And you sleep here? Where do you sleep? You said there was no furniture.”
“Right here on this sexy settee.” He pulls me, now fully dressed, back into his lap. “It’s pretty comfortable.”
“Bit small,” I say. “Why didn’t you get some furniture? I mean with the money you spent on that bike?”
He grins. “Did you like it?”
“Like it? It’s already like a part of me.”
He kisses me happily, straightening my hair as we part. “I don’t have any money left, I’m afraid.”
I lean back, looking at his still flushed and handsome face. “You spent your last money on a bike for me?”
“Yep. Totally worth it. Since you’re here.” He straightens my mussed hair. “How long can you stay? Do you need to get back to work?”
I laugh. “I’m the boss, so no.”
“What about head office? Won’t they fire you?”
Now I’m giggling. Wolf looks at me quizzically. “Did I miss something?”
“I own Dhark, baby. I own the whole kit and caboodle.”
He pulls back, astonished. “But…that must be worth…a lot.”
“Couple of billion.”
“And I spent my last dollars on buying you a bike?” He’s laughing now too, seeing the funny side.
“I’ll pay you back. But… we should be clear with each other, I guess.”
“What do you mean?”
I take a breath. It’s evidence of how much I’ve changed since we were last together that I’m prepared to discuss this all in advance. Our relationship took off uncontrolled, like a faulty rocket, destined for an unstable and disastrous orbit. This time I’m taking control. I hope he doesn’t mind.
“I’m single. And you are…?”
“I’m single too.”
“Okay. Good. So I love you.” He sighs heavily, his eyes glassing over. “I never stopped loving you. And I always felt terrible that I hadn’t done more to get you away from the Fiends before they destroyed your life.”
“It wasn’t your fault, babe.”
“Maybe not, but now you’re my responsibility. And lucky for you I have the money to take that responsibility and run with it.”
He just looks at me, eyebrows raised.
“Well?” I ask. “Are you in?”
“I’m so in.”
“We can try to be a couple? Are you ready for that?”
“Why wouldn’t I be ready? I love you, angel. I never stopped loving you either.”
We kiss for a while, just to seal the deal. Then I drag him downstairs and make him fix us some breakfast before we take the bike out for a spin to Santa Rosa to buy some furniture. Later while we’re waiting for the U-haul dude to process our rental so we can get the mattress and other stuff we bought back to the hotel, I let Wolf in on the plan I formulated on the two-hour ride.
“I’ll buy the hotel,” I say. “What does the old guy want for it?”
Wolf laughs. “Are you serious? About five million I think.”
“Easy. I’ve got enough in cash deposits. Now, what do you want to do with it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean do you want to run it like a hotel? Or we could do it up like a mansion for just us.”
He scratches his head. “I think it’s a bit big for just two of us, don’t you? Are you used to living in a mansion?”
“Hell no. I have a three bedroom bungalow in Tacoma. Bit of a shithole to be honest. I’ll get someone to fix it up for me and rent it out.”
The U-haul dude rolls up with a big truck. Wolf helps me wheel the bike into the back. There’s still plenty of room for the king size mattress and bed base we bought, as well as a TV and some other stuff they’ll deliver in a few days.
After we’ve stopped back at the furniture store and loaded up, we continue our conversation as we hit the road, heading out towards the now setting sun.
“So, the hotel?” I ask.
Wolf hesitates. “OK. I have a crazy idea. Don’t laugh.”
“Why would I laugh? I love crazy ideas.”
He takes a breath. “So I was thinking of a kind of rehab center. For addiction.”
I think about it while he changes lanes to get around a slow moving station wagon.
“That’s a great idea,” I say. “It’s such a nice quiet town. People could come up from San Fran or even LA, to get away from it all.”
“That’s what I thought. And I did this diploma when I was inside – addiction counseling, so I could work there.”
“You did? That’s great!”
He smiles coyly, glowing with pride.
“So you’re clean?” I ask.
“Three years. You don’t…I mean it’s okay if you still…”
I stop him. “I drink a little, that’s all. Nothing else. And I should cut down anyway. I don’t mind. Hey, we could get a lot of people in recovery working there. Maybe some of the people from this morning?”
My mind starts to
buzz with ideas as the sun sets ahead of us and the ocean comes into view. We bought a pile of warm bedding and a little heater because Wolf says the hotel is cold at night. I’m sure we’ll be warm enough, with all that and each other. In fact, we probably won’t get much sleep at all.
Tomorrow I’ll call Amy and break it to her that she’s going to have to manage the local staff as well as the logistics of getting me hooked up to the business remotely from here. I’ll give her a big fat raise and she won’t complain. We’ll contact the hotel’s owner and I’ll make an offer. Lawyers can take it from there. I’ll find some good local tradespeople to do the work we need, get a medical recruitment company on finding us some nurses, a doctor and some other therapists.
I’ve been thinking of adding another pick and pack warehouse for our small gift boxes (black bath bombs, scrubbers, facial peels etc) and it occurs to me that right in sleepy Gualala might be a great place. All those hungry diners (who are having their dinner late today – Wolf left a sign on the door saying we’d serve at 8:30) could use the work. It’ll be great.
Wolf puts his hand on my knee as we slow down into the town limits of Gualala. Minutes later we pull up at the hotel. It’s dark apart from one light illuminating the path around the back, along which a good thirty people are lined up. Wolf put the chili into a huge slow cooker before we left and there are piles of yesterday’s bread from a local bakery. We’ll all be eating in five minutes.
“Duty calls,” Wolf says, climbing out of the truck. “I’ll get two of the guys to come around and help you with the stuff while I open up. Wait here.”
I watch him leave, watch his gorgeous ass in his scruffy jeans. I used to watch him leave all the time, but in those days I was never sure he was coming back.
For once, now I am.
Bibi Rizer is a mom, blogger, teacher and writer living in the Pacific Northwest. While she’s been writing professionally for many years, romance and erotica are relatively new pursuits.
Bibi likes writing about strong kinky women and brave willing men living in realistic and imperfect worlds.