Red Hot Obsessions (177 page)

“Yeah?” Rae curled up and burrowed her face into his chest. Inside his white shirt, his chest smelled like cinnamon and a wild meadow and clean, warm man. She wasn’t really listening to what he was saying. Her body hummed.

“But we can discuss that another time,” Wulf said. He rested his arms around her and leaned back in the chair.

If Rae were a good friend to Lizzy, she would stand up, thank Wulf for the training session, and leave.

She really should do that, any minute now.

Under her weight, Wulf heaved a sigh, and his strong arms tightened around her. His lips moved against her hair.

Yep, any minute now, Rae was going to stand up and leave.

Her hand sneaked inside his shirt, and she could feel his strong heart beating under his soft undershirt and the heavy muscles of his chest. She wondered how close the bullet had come to his heart.

Small hairs peeking from the top of his undershirt were soft under her fingers. As she played with them, the candlelight glinted dark gold on them and his skin. She traced the strong cords that ran from his jaw down to his chest. His scent—like exotic tea and springtime and natural man,—
that
rose out of his shirt, and she turned her face inward.

She wasn’t planning anything. He just smelled so good, and breathing him in made her head spin.

The tip of her nose brushed his neck. Wulf stretched just a little, exposing more of his throat.

She took advantage and kissed his neck, then lower.

Wulf shifted in the chair under her, adjusting his legs.

She lipped his neck, tasting his warm skin. The faintest tang of salt touched her tongue, but the scent of cinnamon and tea from his cologne filled her mouth.

He cleared his throat. “One of us has
not
just had a spanking.”

She slid her hands around his torso, pressing her breasts against him. She pushed her face against his neck and opened her mouth, sucking on his neck. Tasting his skin on her lips and tongue and feeling his body, even through his clothes, under her palms and fingers quickened her breath.

His hands gripped her arm and hip more firmly. His muscles hardened with tension. “You’re learning cruelty quickly, aren’t you?”

Rae mouthed his neck, following his bulging tendons to his chest. She tucked her chin into his undershirt and kissed an extra inch of his skin. His scent was muskier there, filling her mouth and nose.

His strangled sigh breathed on her hair. “I am an adult man. I do not lose control.”

Making him lose control, someday, might be incredible, and a shiver rushed through her, even though they weren’t going to have sex any more. She slid one arm around his trim waist, running her fingers over the ripples of muscle under his clothes.

He shifted again in the chair and cupped her head with his hand, pressing her harder to his neck.

She tucked her legs under herself and slid down his body to the floor. Her face pressed his white shirt, which was so smooth that it felt like silk on her cheek but so crisp when it rustled that it must be cotton. She kneeled between his legs, still breathing in his scent through his shirt, and began unbuckling his belt.

Wulf covered her hands with his. “You said that we shouldn’t indulge. You should stop.”

“I don’t want to stop.” Her voice broke when she panted.

“You said we should not indulge in such things.”

“This doesn’t count. It’s just heavy petting, right?”

He gazed down at her, and his tortured blue eyes belied his calm expression. “I don’t want to argue with you.”

“Then don’t.”

“I desperately do not want to argue with you. I want nothing more than to sit back and not argue with you. Every fiber of my body is insisting that I not argue with you, but I think you’ll regret this.”

“I won’t regret it.” He was as tempting as a big slice of blond cheesecake on a white plate, and now that she had nibbled his neck, she wanted another bite, and another, and she wanted him in her mouth, on her tongue, and in her throat.

“Must I say my safe word?” His strained voice seemed squeezed.

“Please don’t.” She splayed her hand on his chest and nudged him back in the chair. “Let me do this.”

He stared at the ceiling like something up there would rescue him, and he inhaled a deep, measured breath like he was preparing to lift something heavy.

Rae glanced at the white, popcorn ceiling, but the security camera was mounted on the other side of the room, and Wulf was only staring at a recessed light bulb.

He said, “I don’t have a condom.”

She unlatched his belt and slid the leather strap out of the buckle. “I don’t care.”

“I can find one.”

“Don’t move.”

He clenched his hands around the chair’s armrests, but he didn’t stand up. “You’re telling a Helvetian to disregard rules.”

Maybe she could make him late for his next appointment, too.

Since he had said that he was Helvetian, which was what he said when he meant that he was Swiss, so the security camera must be off.

She unhooked and unzipped his suit pants. His cock strained against his underwear, pushing it up.

Okay, Rae had never actually done this before, and the haze of desire in her mind parted to let just a little of that insecurity pierce through. She should have done an internet search on how to blow a guy.

Yet, he had teased her plenty. She should be able to figure this out.

Her mouth was hungry to taste him, and she rubbed his thighs just to feel his strong legs with her hands. His pants’ fabric caught in the calluses on her palms like it was spun from spiderwebs, though it felt like wool, only thinner, finer.

She pulled out his shirt tails and pushed them out of the way. Her hand strayed over his underwear, and she ran her fingernails over the tented cotton.

He sighed and closed his eyes.

She peeled back his underwear, tugging the elastic down and under his dick.

Freed, his long cock bobbed with his heartbeat. No wonder it felt like he slid inside her forever.

She trailed her fingers over the top, and it jumped like it was trying to get her.

His shaft was paler pink than other ones she had seen, but Wulf was lighter than most guys. Long veins ran like purple cords up the sides to the rosy cap.

A bead of precum emerged from the top and shimmered in the lights. She touched it, and the sticky drop clung to her finger. It tasted a little salty, a little sweet, and almost like nothing.

She slid her hand down the length of his cock, and Wulf shifted in his chair. His knees bumped her shoulders on both sides.

The curly fuzz at the base of his dick was a darker shade of blond. Skin gathered near the head.

She leaned forward and slid her lips over the head of his cock, taking his velvety hardness into her mouth a little at a time. The muskiness from his body was stronger as her face neared his groin, more like the dark scent of chocolate or coffee, though the cinnamon and cloves from his cologne still wafted around her.

He gasped and arched under her.

She sat up. “Did I hurt you?”

His eyes were closed, and he pressed himself back in the chair. “No. Your mouth is so hot. It surprised me.”

Okay, she knew that Wulf had had blow jobs before. Lots of them. From women whom Rae knew. Nothing should surprise him.

She dipped her head and lowered her mouth over his dick again.

He reached for her hair, his fingers grasping her ringlets.

She sucked his cock in, filling up her mouth, sliding it over her tongue to her throat. Inside her mouth, his cock pulsed, pushing against her tongue. He tasted like a hint of salt and the warm scent from his body.

Above her head, Wulf groaned again. His hips moved under her, like he wanted to thrust but held back.

She wrapped her hands around the lower part of his cock that she couldn’t take into her mouth and pushed him farther down her throat. She didn’t gag, but his cock pushed everywhere in her mouth, stretching her jaw open.

She was doing it.

Inside her mouth, she licked him, undulating her tongue against his shaft.

Wulf’s body was so coiled so tight that it felt like he was going to spring out of the chair.

If she teased him a little more, she bet she could make him groan again.

She licked up his cock, pressing the flat of her tongue to the hard ridge up the front, and then sucked it into her mouth.

He grunted, and his body flinched.

That was close to what she wanted him to do, but more stimulation might make him actually cry out.

She pressed down, taking as much of his cock as she could into her mouth. Rearing up, she ran her tongue around the plump head and then plunged down on him again.

Wulf grabbed fistfuls of her hair and, without hurting her, guided her head up and down a few times until his whole body went rigid and his cock pulsed hard in her mouth. He shouted a wordless cry, and his fists clenched in her hair. The salt of his cum ran over her tongue and down the back of her throat as he spurted. She swallowed it all.

He was gasping for breath as she sucked up the shaft, releasing him. Her lips felt raw, and her throat, stretched. She arranged his clothes over him because he wasn’t even sticky or anything. That was a pretty cool benefit. She crawled up his body to his lap and curled up in his arms.

That had probably gone okay. He didn’t seem injured. If he had liked it as much as it looked like he had from his half-closed eyes and ragged breath, she must have done a halfway good job.

Under her hand that lay on his chest, his heart hammered through his shirt.

It was silly of her to be so proud of herself, to feel such an effusive glow for forcing him to lie back and then doing something so wild to him.

Yeah,
to
him. Not
with
him.
To
him.

It was kind of Dommish of her, and she kind of liked it, if she were to admit such a thing.

She snuggled in closer to his warmth, feeling his heartbeat and listening to his breath in his lungs. She could lie here for hours.

“Dine with me,” Wulf whispered. “Saturday.”

“Okay,” she said, sleepy with afterglow. “After Saturday night here?”

“Yes.”

“Should I meet you at the restaurant?”

“No,” Wulf whispered over her head and settled his arms around her, cradling her to his chest. “We’ll go to my place.”

“Okay.” Rae yawned and rested against him, admiring the muscular curves and toying with the soft blond hairs that peeked through his unbuttoned shirt collar.

It was only later, when she was lying in her narrow dorm bed, listening to her cousin Hester snore, that Rae’s eyes popped open in the dark because Wulf had invited her to his
home
.

~~~~~~~

Episode 5: Secrets of His Heart

Lizzy in Love, Again

Rae Stone sat on the hard carpet in her suitemates’ bedroom between their twin beds, her back resting against their nightstand, while they sat cross-legged on their beds and craned their necks down to talk to her. She drank burnt, black coffee, careful not to slosh any because the coffee’s heat had softened the plastic party cup until it flexed in her fingers. The coffee tasted like the plastic was leaching into it, but Rae wouldn’t complain about coffee offered in friendship, even though she was sleepy, still wearing her fuzzy pajamas, and was not a good friend.

Rae’s suitemates Lizzy and Georgie had pounded on their adjoining bathroom’s door at ten o’clock Saturday morning, insisting that they hadn’t seen Rae for days and they needed to talk to her now.

Of course they hadn’t seen much of Rae lately. She had been dodging them with decent success for almost two weeks. Guilt had driven Rae right underground. She had finally found the courage to tell Wulf no more sex just a few days ago, and she had honored it.

Sort of.

Technically.

“So you’re official?” Georgie asked Rae, staring down at her like a perched hawk that could see all of Rae’s failings. “Lock, stock, and W-2 forms?”

“Dropped off the medical release yesterday. Signed all the paperwork.” Signed away my soul. “I’m officially a Domme.” Rae sipped the bitter coffee and wished the girls had offered her some milk or sugar, but she wouldn’t be so impolite to ask when they probably didn’t have any. The rules of poor, polite society were different, and Rae had grown up with a deep appreciation for her childhood classmates overlooking patched clothes, free breakfast and lunch passes, and skimpy donations at church.

“That’s awesome,” Lizzy said. “Domming is so much better than being a blowjob artist. Sometimes, I can’t get the taste of latex out of my throat for hours.”

“Vodka,” Georgie told Lizzy.

“Vodka gives me a headache,” Lizzy said.

Rae wanted to cover her ears, but she held her hot plastic tumbler with both hands. “Iced tea?”

They laughed at her innocent idea.

Georgie said, “Long Island Iced Tea might do the trick.”

“Yep,” Lizzy said, “Long Island Iced Tea will knock the taste of just about anything out of your mouth.”

“Or your brain. Did it work?” Georgie asked.

Lizzy looked at the rough carpet near Rae’s feet. “Not really.”

Georgie turned to Rae. “Lizzy’s still mooning after The Dom. We went out last night to get her laid, but it didn’t take.”

Oh, The Dom. Lizzy and Georgie called Wulf The Dom because he ran The Devilhouse, which employed all three college girls. Georgie had warned Rae and Lizzy not to fall for him, and her description of him as gossamer smoke inside a mirrored shell had made Rae diagnose him as a psychopath before she had ever met him. Psychology majors can diagnose most mental illnesses with seemingly inadequate, second-hand information.

“I know I’m being stupid,” Lizzy said, sipping her coffee from a Golden Devil mug. “His Dom-Dates are always one-night-stands. It was never meant to be more than that. I’m just being stupid.”

“You’re still wearing those after-date earrings he gave you.”

“Yeah,” Lizzy sighed. Large, sparkly solitaires glinted in Lizzy’s ears.

“But those aren’t real diamonds or anything,” Rae said.

“Oh yeah, they are. Certificates and everything.” Lizzy tossed her head. Her bed-flat blond hair didn’t move, but the diamonds threw points of laser light over the twin beds and Lizzy’s row of lush plants spilling over the window sill near the ceiling.

Georgie said, “Some less-scrupulous girls might go on a first date just for the jewelry, but everyone goes on the second date for the date.”

Wulf had tried to give Rae a pair of earrings right after she had met him and screwed him at a party, but those had been three rhinestones with a dangling sparkly thing on a white metal chain. Rae hadn’t felt right about the gift and had given them back. Then she gave him back the crystal-encrusted bracelet in the Tiffany box that she was sure was fake. If those had been real diamonds, they would have been worth a fortune, and that was nuts, and relief sighed through her that she had given them back no matter what they were. She wasn’t the type of girl to wear crazy-fancy jewelry, anyway. Rae was blue jeans and barbeque, not fancy linen napkins and sparkly rocks.

Finally, Wulf had given Rae a set of two used books, a proper gift for a college student. Rae thought it was odd that he gave her really old books when brand new copies of Shakespeare’s sonnets and epic poems were available at bookstores or online, but she liked them.

Georgie regarded Lizzy with sorrow in her brown eyes. “We can go out again tonight.”

“We’re supposed to go to The Devilhouse tonight.” Apprehension tightened Lizzy’s voice, even though her gray-blue eyes filled with tears.

Lizzy had been fighting this adoration for weeks. Such devotion was more than just a crush.

Lizzy’s heartbroken expression was more than Rae could bear, and Lizzy had had him first. “Maybe you should tell The Dom how you feel.”

“Oh no, she shouldn’t,” Georgie said quickly.

“No way,” Lizzy said. “No fucking way.”

Was there a raging side to Wulf that Rae had never seen? Would he make fun of Lizzy? Or fire her? “Why not?”

Lizzy sighed. “Because he’ll think I’m an idiot, even if he would never say anything so uncultured. He might not ask me out for another date, and I don’t even want to think about that.”

Georgie said, “Look, I like the guy. There are lots of benefits to hanging out with The Dom, and he’s generous with them. His dates are nights to remember. He helps all us girls get into top-tier graduate programs or get amazing jobs after graduation, international jobs, if you want them. Lizzy, you don’t know what he’ll do if you spill the beans because you don’t really know a damn thing about him. Not where he grew up. Not where he lives now. Not who his friends are. Not his even his name. He hides so much that it has to be calculated. We don’t even know what he did with that poor cat that was hanging around The Devilhouse.”

Rae stared at the wall that some previous dorm resident had wallpapered with teal stripes and paisleys and tried not to let her expression change as she thought: Wulfrum something-something van Hanover. Switzerland. I’m supposed to go to his house tonight. And he has an old gunshot scar on his back that I don’t think they’ve seen, either.

But Lizzy should know where The Dom lived. After their date, surely they hadn’t gone back to Lizzy’s dorm room for the finale. Rae would have heard every thump through the eggshell walls.

Rae shouldn’t ask. “Lizzy?” She really shouldn’t ask. “If you didn’t go back to his place on your date,” she should shut up right now, “where did you guys end up?”

“Oh, back at The Devilhouse, on the main stage, though the ballroom was empty. It was actually kind of creepy at first. It echoed.”

“Oh. Okay.” Tonight, Wulf had invited Rae to eat supper with him at his home. Rae wasn’t sure if he was letting her into his heart or if she was walking into the belly of the beast, and she couldn’t even discuss it with Lizzy and Georgie because it would break Lizzy’s heart.

And he had even made her promise not to try to find out any more about him.

Jesus, this might be the trap. She might end up dead out in the desert. Rae’s paranoia was kicking in, hard, even though she felt stupid thinking it.

No, Wulf had never been anything but nice to her.

Yeah, and psychopaths were some of the nicest guys around, right up until they revealed themselves as serial killers or sadistic rapists.

Yet, The Devilhouse was such a closed environment that, if he was a demon in a mirrored shell, the girls would know and react to him differently than the odd combination of sexual frisson, sexual submissiveness, and fondness from every last one of them.

Rae’s head could not hold any more sides to that argument.

“I don’t care,” Lizzy said. “I don’t want to know all that if he doesn’t want me to know. I’m content to just call him The Dom or Sir,” she sighed, “or Master.”

Lizzy’s reaction was purely that of a normal empathic person who was under the spell of a psychopath. Rae watched Lizzy’s light gray-blue eyes shift from her coffee to the ceiling and back.

“Lizzy, this isn’t healthy,” Georgie said.

Dang straight. Rae shifted on the hard carpet, trying to not look like she was fidgeting.

Lizzy insisted, “I like it when he ties me up and makes me beg.”

So now Rae knew what had happened during their date. She wished she could pour bleach in her ears and scrub it out. Her hand stole toward her head, a transparent attempt to cover her ears.

Georgie said, “You’re thinking with your pussy, Lizzy.”

Rae’s hand neared her ear, but she still held the bitter coffee in the red cup, so she couldn’t press both hands around her head. Rae’s own bedroom was just through that closed bathroom door, where she could jam her pillow over her head so she wouldn’t have to hear this.

Lizzy continued, “I want to sit at his feet wearing nothing but his collar.”

Which was what Wulf said that he wanted Rae to do during their first training session, and Rae had balked. She scratched her head behind her ear, trying to camouflage her unease.

Lizzy said, “I just want him to fuck me again. I want to feel helpless like that.”

Rae clapped her hand flat over her ear. She kind of did know what Lizzy meant there. When Wulf had bent Rae over his desk, even gargantuan Rae had felt like Wulf was overpowering her, though she was entirely complicit. Just thinking about the time that he had tied her up, spread-eagle, and taken her from behind sent a zing to her clit.

Even though Rae had liked it, a lot, that helpless feeling had scared her.

Evidently, Lizzy liked all of it.

A hollowness grew in Rae’s stomach because she could not be what Wulf wanted, but Lizzy could.

Rae said, “You should listen to your heart.”

Georgie snapped, “You shouldn’t listen to your heart or your pussy, Lizzy. Think with your head. Falling for him is a bad idea.”

“I just want to do what he tells me to,” Lizzy said.

The teal stripes on the wall started to drift in Rae’s vision, climbing over each other, kind of like how Rae would have to clamber over Lizzy’s bed to beat feet out the door to get away.

Georgie shook her head. “Lizzy, he’s not the type to take a sub or a slave. He likes women, in the plural, craves women, in the plural. He’d never commit.”

Everything that Wulf had said to Rae suggested that what he really wanted was a submissive woman, and Rae was anything but that. She had argued with her minister when she was only sixteen, for Heaven’s sake. She had defied most of her family to run off to college.

Lizzy, however, was exactly the type of girl that Wulf wanted. They were made for each other. The Dom and sub. The Master and the slave girl.

“Lizzy.” Rae wished she didn’t have to say this, but she did. “You should tell him. Tonight.” Lizzy should go home with Wulf tonight, not Rae. Rae stared into the dark depths of her coffee, feeling like she had just dived into a dark, hot hole. “You should go to The Devilhouse early, so there’s no time pressure, and you should tell him how you feel.”

“I couldn’t,” Lizzy said.

“And she shouldn’t,” Georgie said.

“Why not?”

“I told you. He’ll think I’m an idiot. I won’t ever have even another date with him.”

Rae knew the answer to this one. She used it a lot when her family told her that she just couldn’t do something. “Risk it. Tell him. Make the leap of faith.”

Georgie insisted, “You don’t know what he’ll do.”

Rae shook her head, dispelling the stupid heaviness between her ears. “Why don’t you guys know anything about The Dom?” Rae asked, and it felt weird to not use Wulf’s name. She was dangerously close to slipping. “Why don’t you just do an internet search on him?”

“How can we?” Georgie asked. “We don’t know his name. One of the girls, Sonya, is a journalism major, and she tried to dig up something on him. The Devilhouse is owned by a private corporation, the shares of which are owned by other offshore corporations, which is run by a trust set up in Switzerland, and it was all this endless spiral of legal walls. I think he’s in the Mafia.”

Lizzy said, “He’s kind of blond to be in the Mafia.”

“Northern Italians are blond,” Georgie said.

Lizzy shook her head. “He doesn’t have an Italian accent.”

“Okay, what kind of accent is that, then?”

“English.”

“It’s not just British. There’s other stuff in there, too.”

They went round and round about Wulf’s pronunciation of various words with French, German, British, Irish, and other accents as if they were English Lit majors dissecting Finnegan’s Wake.

Rae pulled her phone out of her bra strap and considered the browser button. If she had opened up a laptop in front of them, they would have been all over her just due to idle curiosity. Her phone, however, was more subtle.

Engaging in a little casual cyberstalking wasn’t exactly wrong, these days. Everyone’s life was an open webpage.

She had promised Wulf that she wouldn’t pry into his life, but that was a sex promise. Guys made all sorts of sex promises. I just want to lie in bed together and snuggle. I don’t have a girlfriend. I’ll pull out.

Heck, they weren’t having sex any more, not since Rae had put the kibosh on it because Lizzy had seen Wulf first, and they certainly wouldn’t have sex after tonight when Lizzy told Wulf about her feelings for him. Sex promises should end when the possibility of more sex ends.

Right?

Besides, there might be a real reason why Lizzy shouldn’t confess her feelings for him.

Rae’s paranoia, usually useless and too late, reared its head and demanded that she find out what he was hiding from everyone. She knew his name. Not doing due diligence was stupid of her.

That enormous scar on Wulf’s back testified that he was no stranger to violence.

He might be a serial killer, acquitted on a technicality.

He might be a KGB assassin, gone to ground.