by Eden Myles
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?”
“Tying me down in bed and rogering me until you pass out does not a relationship make, Wolf.”
The silence that followed my statement was deafening. Finally, his face absolutely unreadable,
Wolf said in a quiet voice, “Do you want me to let you go?”
“You can’t fire me. I own this company.”
“I can fire you as my courtesan. I can terminate our arrangement.”
“Yes, please, sir,” I said as sarcastically as possible and crossed my arms.
He looked at me, then, and his voice had a lilt to it that I had never heard before, the kind of old, haggard hurt I usually only heard in my dad’s voice when he talked about my mom. “You can leave now.”
I had exercised my own free will. I’d left his office. I’d left his employ as his courtesan. And for good fucking reasons. Thanks to Wolf, Jerrel had refused to sign the divorce papers and had reinstated the clause. He’d also threatened to get Child Protection Services on my ass and to have me cited by the courts as an unfit mother because of the nature of the magazine I published. I knew all of this was about Wolf and nothing else. I immediately called Jerrel at home, and sure enough, within seconds he said, “That guy you’re fucking is a pervert and a psychopath, Rache, and I will not have my daughter being raised by him.”
“What would you know about raising a daughter?” I countered.
“I had him checked out, Rache,” Jerrel said, diverting the conversation away from the one place where he could hold no ground with me. “Do you know Wolfgang Beck is part of some sleazy sex club for rich fucks who like to tie women up and beat the shit out of them?”
“And that girl you’re fucking is eighteen years old, Jerrel. Only five years older than Asia. So do not play this game with me!”
We’d hung up on each other almost simultaneously. That was a week ago.
Eventually, the lawyers called me back. Jerrel was willing to negotiate down to one week a month, but he wanted all the holidays with Asia. He knew how important it was that my dad spend Christmas with Asia. Christmas Eve was my mom’s birthday, his time to tell my daughter all about her grandmother who had passed away before she was born. But Jerrel played a hard game. He didn’t just want to hurt me, he wanted to hurt my dad just to win this pissing contest of ours. As a result, I was spending this Christmas without Asia.
Malcolm showed up at the café to collect Devon, and I watched with gnawing jealousy as the two men kissed like randy newlyweds, to the chagrin of some of the older patrons. Evelyn had told me they’d been together almost a decade, that Devon planned to ask Malcolm to marry him on Christmas Eve now that New York had same-sex marriage laws, and I found myself hating them a little bit more. I didn’t know a single traditional couple who had been together that long.
Our little get-together broke up after that, which was just as well. The happy, happy Christmas music was starting to grate on my last nerve. As I started out into the icy streets, wrapped in my wool coat and scarf, hoping to catch a cab back to the office that didn’t look like it had been used for a major drug transaction, and feeling like the most miserable Ebenezer on earth, I felt a presence close in on me.
“I’m sorry Wolf’s behavior disappointed you,” Evelyn said, standing at the curb with me. She set her hand on her belly. She looked like a Russian princess in a novel in her long wrap and fur-lined hat. Ian always dressed her so nicely. She also looked, quite literally, like she was going to burst if she didn’t have that baby soon. Ian Sterling’s Mercedes pulled around the corner to pick her up, and as the driver popped out and opened the door for Evelyn, she ushered me down inside the warmth of the car with her.
“It’s not that I’m disappointed, exactly. I know how he is,” I explained as I rode with her toward the office. “But he doesn’t know how vicious Jerrel can be.”
“Wolf can be pretty vicious himself,” Evelyn said. “At least, that’s what Ian has told me.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“He loves you, Rachaela.”
“Do you think so?”
“If he didn’t love you, he wouldn’t have gotten so angry with how Jerrel is using Asia to get to you.” She shifted around on the seat to accommodate her bulk.
“That’s none of Wolf’s concern,” I said bitterly. I was fine until someone drew my daughter into a squabble. Then my hackles just naturally went up. “I can take care of myself.”
“I don’t think this is about you, exactly. I think it’s the way Jerrel is treating Asia.” She put her hand on mine again. “Let Wolf be a dad, Rachaela. He never gets the chance.”
I laughed a little nervously. “Why would Wolf have any interest in being a dad?”
She looked surprised. “You don’t know about Rainer, Wolf’s son?”
I felt a dull shock. “I didn’t even know Wolf had a son.”
“Ah.” She thought about that a moment. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to tell. I’ll just blame Devon if it gets out,” she grinned. “When Wolf was very young, his father arranged for him to marry a German baroness ten years his senior, part of some property arrangement they had that would allow him to mine a certain region of Namibia that he didn’t have access to. They weren’t in love, but Wolf did it to please his father. Anna and Wolf had a son he was very dedicated to—Rainer—but after Wolf’s father died, they divorced and the baroness took Rainer to live with her in Germany. In time, she remarried, but she and her husband haven’t allowed Wolf to see his son in more than ten years. He must be about eighteen by now.”
“Why did she block him? Because of the Dollhouse?”
“No, this was long before that. Anna hated the fact that Wolf was using so much of his father’s money to develop the desert. Then again, she’s always felt that Wolf was beneath her station.”
“That must be hard on Wolf,” I said. “I can’t imagine what’s it’s like to be a father without his child.”
She gave me a sympathetic look and touched her belly again as we pulled up alongside my building.
I’d just gotten through the doors to the office when my receptionist Diane popped up and waved to me “Why isn’t your cell on, Rachaela! I’ve been dialing you for half an hour. So has Jerrel.”
Truthfully, I’d shut it off while I was taking lunch with Devon and Evelyn, and I’d forgotten to turn it back on. My mind had been on other things. I checked my phone. Jerrel had left seven calls so far. “Christ, what now?” I asked.
Diane gave me a stone-cold look. “It’s about your daughter, Rachaela. This morning, she ran away from Jerrel’s house in the Hamptons and no one’s seen her since.”
***
“This is all your fault!” I shouted at Jerrel on the phone as I paced across my office suite.
“How is this my fault, Rache?” Jerrel shouted back.
“You couldn’t keep it in your pants, right? One fucking week with your daughter, and you had to trot out the teenage whores in front of her. You had to destroy everything she respects about you.”
He didn’t say anything to that because he knew I was right.
“She fucking worshipped you, Jerrel, her daddy the celebrity. But you’re a playa and you never gave a shit what she thought. You never gave a shit about Asia, period, except as a way to get to me.” I hung up on his attempts to defend himself.
To my credit, I hadn’t panicked yet. I’d phoned everyone Asia knew—Christa, her boyfriend Jayden, even my dad in Brooklyn and the desk concierge at home, in the event Asia had turned up there. But so far, no one had seen or heard from my daughter. I’d called around to all her friends, praying that maybe she’d called one of them to come pick her up, but she wasn’t with any of them. Finally, desperate, I tried all the cab and bus companies I could find in the yellow pages. They weren’t obligated to share information with someone who wasn’t a police officer, so I had begged practically on my knees for them to tell me if my daughter had used her credit card to pay for a ticket. They’d checked and nothing had come back. Defeated, I’d finally called Jerrel back to rant him out.
Now I sat staring at the cell phone on my ink blotter, wanting so bad to call the police again even though Jerrel had already done that. We’d gotten the usual story from them
: unless Asia went missing for twenty-four hours, they wouldn’t even begin searching for her. I wasn’t about to wait twenty-four fucking hours. I jumped to my feet, shrugged into my coat, and started for the elevators. If I had to canvas the entire state of New York to find Asia, I’d do it. But as the elevator door shushed closed, Wolf caught it.
“What didn’t you tell me your daughter is missing?” he said angrily as he tucked his scarf into his wool overcoat.
“My daughter is missing,” I said, my voice flat and dead.
“Rachaela…”
I hadn’t spoken directly to him in a week, not since our fight. “Leave me alone, Wolf!” I screamed at him now. “I don’t have time for you and the fucked up issues you have with your son!”
He looked down at me with blank poker eyes as he hit the button for the underground parking garage. Something wanted to break inside me. I wanted to scream and cry. I wanted to pound my fists against Wolf’s chest. I wanted him to hold me. Instead, I just looked up at him, waiting for his rage. “You don’t have a car,” he said quietly. “You’ll need one.”
Good sense prevailed, and though Wolf was the absolute last person I wanted to spend time with right now, I followed him through the parking garage to his roadster. We got in, and Wolf backed out of the garage and onto the icy streets, heading for the Long Island Expressway, which was the most logical route from the Hamptons to the city. We’d driven along for about ten minutes when I finally said, “I’m sorry I said that about your son. I had no right.”
A few moments of uncomfortable silence passed before Wolf said, “He’s going to be a doctor.”
“Rainer?”
Wolf nodded, once, sharply. “Last time I spoke to Anna, she told me.”
“You must be proud. Are you proud?”
“I don’t really know him anymore, Rachaela.”
I thought about that. “But you could. He’s eighteen, isn’t he? He could see you if he wanted to.”
“I doubt he wants to see me.”
“Have you asked him?”
“No.”