Authors: Cari Silverwood
“Fuck! Hey!”
But this had become almost a game and I couldn’t help giggling.
Despite a flurry of defensive maneuvers, I ended up bare-assed with both my wrists caught at the small of my back in one of his hands.
The first smack on my butt shivered a frisson of lust through me, straight to my pussy. Glorious. After smacking me, quite hard and painfully, a few more times, Wolfe shifted and when he spoke his words came from low down. I turned my head to look back at him and found he was inches away, watching.
The warmth of his exhalations, the burn of his weighty hands landing on me...I unraveled, pleasantly.
“You liked that, didn’t you?”
“Um.” I caught my lip in my teeth then let it slip. Truth? “Yes?”
There was pain but every blow had also sent my arousal soaring, had made me wetter. My entire body throbbed with the beat of my heart and the burn on my ass.
“Good.” He slipped his hand between my open thighs then his finger wormed inside, slowly. Slow enough to melt my brain.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
“I’m sure you want that, but not now. Let’s just sit here for a while.”
He what? Me lying with his finger in me? I was about to combust.
I wriggled and he shushed me, held me down and began to play.
“No talking.”
I subsided. Within a minute I was ready to beg for more than what he was doing – working me into a mess, pushing his finger in and out while he held my cheeks apart, or bit me, or just held me down. He’d need a fire extinguisher soon.
Half an hour later – I wasn’t sure of the time – I had bites all over my ass and three fingers inside me, and my poor clit was abused, what with all the grinding I’d tried to do against his thighs. I couldn’t beg in words, but I’d done a ton of muted cursing and sobbing.
At last, he spoke. “I’m not going to fuck you. You’re going to stand up and pull up your shorts and then we’re going to read some of the book.
What did I have to do to get his cock in me? Pleading with my eyes didn’t work either.
Desperate measures were needed.
The drug...I was going to do it. A little variation, a tiny drop. I would experiment.
Wolfe droned on, reading the book, toying with me still by simply being him – with his smell, his male bulk and hard muscles, and by squeezing me between his open legs. I’d ended up sitting there when he’d spread his legs. The chair was big enough. Surrounded by him again, only turned on to infinity and beyond.
Fuck this.
A small increment lower would be safe. Wolfe, a little crazier and with more libido. Yes. A little less drug might mean he’d want to tie me up. I tensed my thigh muscles, squirming, and my clit thanked me. After that, he could fuck me. That I could handle. Just so long as it wasn’t as nasty as the other time.
Yet...I’d dreamed of being roped to that tree sometimes and woken with my hand between my legs. The man had screwed with my head.
Maybe hurting was what I really wanted? True lust, if not true love.
Lily was beside us, whining. I smiled. “Shhh, Lily.”
She panted happily then lay down on the floor with her head on Wolfe’s foot.
Talking to dogs – second sign of craziness. The first sign? I knew that one.
Desiring what might prove to be one’s undoing? That was it.
God, I think I did want him to hurt me.
Again.
I almost began that night, when I poured him another glass of shiraz but decided to wait until the morning, when I hoped my hands wouldn’t be shaking.
This could go so wrong, but I wanted to ride that burning line between death and glory.
* * * * *
Wolfe
Days ago, I’d recognized the taste of one of the drugs from the rehab center, in coffee of all things. It was bitter and distinctive. Maybe the concentration was higher and that triggered my memory, made me connect A to B? Either way, I knew.
So now, I waited. I wanted to see what she’d decide, though I’d pushed her tonight. I’d been impatient. The creep of things uncurling, walking about, feeling for her, in the back of my mind, it did get to me. I had kinky spiders under my stairs. Good ones if I could keep them in check. They fed a part of me that needed the taboo, the dark, the edginess. Only, I’d stay on
this
side of awareness. Forgetting most of the fucking of her was not good.
Now I knew what the drug did...I could add it to my armory. Use it.
When I wanted to, I could stop.
I wanted to see what she would do. Her cravings washed through her and registered way down in my balls. But I wasn’t sure and I needed that surety.
I could recall fucking her though details were lost. Every second of the hour, of the day, I had the crawling sensation, the grabbing need, to take her. With the drug in my system, I could resist. I wanted
her
to decide to take the jump, didn’t want to make her, or scare her into it.
If she didn’t act soon, maybe I’d take back control. Or walk away. That possibility ate at me too. I needed
her
.
The drug made me lazy, but less crazy. And bad at rhyming.
I stalked her.
I waited.
Love had made me do this stupid thing. I think I’d loved her since forever...when she stepped into my room all those months ago.
What if she turned to the light and not the dark? Darth Vader wasn’t every woman’s love choice.
Letting her go would be difficult.
I was Wolfe. If the rest of my life didn’t come back to me, I’d endure. Half the world was waiting to be my plaything. The best half, the female half.
Bullshit.
Just seeing her walk past made me ache. I’d be lost without her.
I’d come here to recover my past but this cabin yielded no answers. Even Magnus was a mystery. A friend, but why, when, how? Nothing I’d found in the cabin had said much.
Except perhaps the basement.
Things had stirred, my kinky spiders most of all, like they were reaching out and caressing all the gear he had down there – enough black leather and spiky stuff to start a heavy metal apocalypse. If this was Magnus’s idea of a fallout shelter, I knew why I liked him.
Staying here forever, stalking Kiara, satisfied me. Moving on could wait. Making her mine was my aim and I could no longer do it without her consent.
I wanted to try out what was in the basement...on her.
True love didn’t always look the same to everyone.
Inconceivable? No.
Love sometimes meant the cruelest torture.
Doctor Hass
“So, this handwriting expert has decided this signature is an
M
and a
W
?”
The doctor inclined an eyebrow and managed to look at the sketch taken from the car and the officer at the same time, or so the officer thought. Maybe all medical professionals at this level were high functioning psycho-whatsits?
The police officer nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“And why is this relevant? The man’s been missing with the nurse for days now.”
“He’s committed alleged rape and sexual assault after being a patient with not an aggressive thought in his head for months. We need to know why. The alterations in his medications seem to not be enough of an explanation. Knowing everything we can may facilitate his capture, sir. You submitted a report that said you didn’t believe he was Andy Carruthers. We’ve tracked down men from his unit as well as the relative, Andy’s father, who turned out to be a homeless man. We showed them recent photos. They all swore that Wolfe is not Andy. We’ve put his DNA through the police database and got nothing. Who do you think he is?”
“
M.W
. That signature is fascinating. He claimed to be named Wolfe, in some early assessments made. He was ignored.” The doctor looked up at the officer and tapped the sheet of paper on his desk. “It seems likely the
W
would be for Wolfe. I’ve also tried to get his DNA checked by some less forthcoming secret intelligence and quasi military organizations of this glorious nation of ours. They did diddly squat for me. If you help, perhaps this can go higher. Perhaps...” The doctor leaned back into his padded chair. “We can find out who this man really is?”
“FBI? CIA? NSA?”
“And any other acronyms that you can think of. I’m sure we have ones I don’t know about.”
“That sounds like a good idea. I’ll pass it on upward.” The police officer held out his hand and Dr. Hass shook it. “Thank you for your co-operation, doctor.”
“You’re welcome. I have to admit this man makes me extremely curious. I like having my facts straight and his are damn well crooked as all hell.”
* * * * *
Damian, a motel in Minnesota
“There!” He tapped the map where the download feed had updated. The drone overfly had finally picked them up. “A weak signal but it is there.”
“Well now. That’s remarkable. Good lithium battery!” Guera had a spoonful of breakfast oatmeal in hand. Carefully she set the bowl on the table and came to Damian where he sat on the bed. “Have you the exact coordinates yet?”
“Soon. Even if we don’t find it again, we have an approximate location. This seems correct. The car registration was tracked to a town that’s a two-hour drive away.”
“Weeks ago.”
“True, but it was the last location found. There’s not much up there on the mountain. If the car’s there, they might be. Such a remote position will be an advantage. Less interference. And see how good my hunch was...” He moved the mouse cursor and circled a road. “Here was where that strange double killing happened.”
“Yes. You are a
very
clever man.”
“I’m concerned that the doctor won’t come here to take the sample, and of course Wolfe is likely going to be too aware by now for us to transport him far.”
“Yes. Yes. It will be a problem. I don’t want to be arrested going across state lines with a handcuffed man in the back of our vehicle.”
“No. And if half of the myths about him are true, he’s not someone we should take lightly. The woman is likely dead by now. But, we’ll figure this out when we need to. We have the tissue sample kit.”
“Ugh. I’d rather just kill a man and bury him than this.” She screwed up her nose. “Brains? Makes me feel like I am a zombie.”
“But a pretty one! And now, we wait.” Damian put the laptop aside and lay on his back on the bed. He shuffled his cellphone from his pocket. “I have a jigglypuff hatching soon. We should go for a walk.”
Gueara tsked but lay down beside him. “Just so you can catch a new Pokémon?”
“Of course.” Tongue out, he winked at her. “Perhaps I could catch you instead while we wait for a triangulation on the flyover?”
She turned onto her stomach and propped herself on her elbows. “You have the best ideas. I can be your jiggle puff?”
“Jiggly. Hmm.” He reached and caressed beneath her breast, weighing it gently and smoothing his fingers over the fabric of her top. “Depends. I think I need to see you hatch an egg first.”
“Haha. I think I should wrestle you for that. I win,
you
hatch an egg, from your butt, sir.”
Damian leaped off the bed then poised himself like a sumo wrestler about to strike. “On the count of three. One, two...”
“Three!”
Laughing they toppled onto each other and rolled on the bed, slowly stripping each other of clothing.
When his phone beeped out a Pokémon notification, they were both too busy kissing to bother checking.
Wolfe
Kiara had lowered the dose of the drug. Once suppertime had come and gone, I was certain. Her allure had never dissipated, but instead of being willing to appreciate and not fuck, now I was thoroughly interested in mounting her on my cock and screwing her into the floor.
Gently, gently, my new mindset told me.
Whatever else this drug had done, it’d given me back my smarts.
The writhing spider things, the tentacles, whatever lived at the back of my head – those never went away. Unlike before, I aimed not to tear both of us apart.
That was the trick. The right amount of drug balanced me on the edge.
“Come.”
“What?” Kiara kept pouring scotch and didn’t look at me, quite. Nervous? Inside her head, she was twangier than a wound-up guitar string.
“All I need is you.” I took the glasses of wine and the scotch from her and placed them on the counter top then led her by the hand into the library.
Her blue dress was some heavy yet soft material that flared and swished around her legs at mid-thigh. I rested an appreciative hand on her lower back to guide her.
She had an inkling of what this meant. After all, she’d given me the lower dose.
I’d suggested the dress for tonight and some pretty lace underwear. A woman in the town had gone shopping elsewhere and brought clothes back for me.
The fire was stoked high, the room warm enough to get naked.
I sat on the sofa and drew her to me, to stand while I ran my hands up the backs of her thighs until I found her ass.
“Eighth wonder of the world. I could feel your ass all day.”
Nervous, she smiled back.
Nothing, not even my cock, was telling me what to do tonight. Slowly, letting both of us soak into the pleasure of the moment, I smoothed my hands over her – her ass then her back, before running my fingers between her legs over the lace, then back to squeezing her ass again. Toying with her.
When she’d relaxed, with a small curve forming on her parted lips and her hands resting on my shoulders, when her body followed my hands, begging for more, I spoke quietly.
“I know you’ve been feeding me a drug to stop me going too crazy.” She tried to step away but I shook my head and she subsided. Her teeth snagged a corner of her lip.
“I can feel your fear. You think I’ll punish you? No.”
“Why?” came out squeaky and she tried again. “Why?”
“Because I want to love you and not destroy you. That’s your doing.” I leaned back and just held her hands by the fingertips. “I’m thinking straight again. I know who I am.” When her mouth fell open, I shook my head. “Not that. No. I mean I understand myself and what might happen. I want to make love to you, nicely, not half kill you. I want us both to like it.”
Her mouth made an
O
of astonishment. I put my finger across her lips.
“Yes. But what you like isn’t simple, is it?”
“I...” She looked down at where I held her fingers. Her mouth writhed. “I don’t know.”
“I do. I have
some
memories. I remember you loving some of the dirtiest things. And I know what’s in here.” My lips twisted in amusement as I stroked the side of her forehead. “That’s okay because I like my love-making dirty too.”
Her frown was cute enough to make me want to kiss it away.
“If I make you hurt while I fuck you, you’ll like that.”
With my hands on her back, I drew her between my legs.
Her hand went to where I was kneading her ass, to cover my hand, to feel me, and her throat moved in a swallow of arousal. “Maybe.”
“Maybe? Lying isn’t allowed.” I pulled my hand from beneath hers to grab the back of her thigh. My fingers pushed between her legs, forcing the material of her dress in there too. Through the dress, my thumb stroked her skin. “I’ve not been in control of myself before, or not for long. I want to play you like an instrument.” I pinched her thigh and held it, while her grimace become a small sigh. Such a cute liar. “Like a maestro with a beautiful violin he wants to hear make beautiful sounds. Well-fucked sounds, in your case. And then...”
She’d been listening, avidly, but I stopped. Wait. Wait... Telling her I loved her should wait.
“And then?”
“Such bright eyes. Such nice wriggling.” I reinforced my possession of her thigh by shifting my grip and squeezing her hard. “Shhh now, until I say to talk.”
Her hair was twisted into a bun. I held her neck to pull her down to my mouth then kissed her softly. The sigh of air from her lips was harsher than my kissing. Impatient, she tried to pounce on my mouth.
“No. You will wait.”
The bun unraveled under my fingers and her hair spilled loose in waves of black. I kissed her again as I drew the shoulders of her dress down her arms. Then I bared her breasts, slipping them from the cups of her bra.
“Pretty tits.”
She grunted, unhappy.
“Don’t like that?”
At the wrinkling of her forehead, I chuckled. Underneath her annoyance she was pleased. Mild objectification was something she liked.
Which only made me wonder if heavy objectification worked as well. Had I tried that already and forgotten?
“What would turn you on? Being fucked with your head in stocks? Or collared and leashed and tied to the floor? Hmmm?”
At my suggestions, her mind had turned into chaos. Aroused, scared, but mostly aroused.
Below each breast, I ran a finger along the bunched material of the bra cups. I lowered my head then used my finger grip to tug each breast toward my mouth. I teased and licked, nipped. Kissing her nipples until they shrank and hardened into nubs gave me a bite-able target then a whimpering girl.
My teeth on her nipple, stretching it outward then releasing it, before I sucked, made her squirm so much. I had to wrap my hand around her breast to keep her from moving away.
Already, she was so worked up she was glazed of eye.
Only then did I encourage her dress to slip down her body. The cloth caressed her curves, as it flowed then puddled around her ankles.
My mouth found the lacy triangle of her panties. I kissed her mound through them and bit her. Her moans and breathy sighs became louder, her hands tangled in my hair and urged my head toward her again.
Tsking, I straightened then I removed her bra. “If you can’t be still, I need to tie your hands. Turn.”
“Um.” She dithered, maybe dumbstruck by my lack of force, of command. I only waited. Eventually she gave in and shuffled around to present her wrists at her back.
Two, crossed wrists.
A simple thing that said so much.
The headiness of her obeying me was almost as good...I halted in thought. As good as forcing her to. Better? I wasn’t sure. The flurry of cruel desires at the edges of my mind made that a hard one to compare. The things within me lusted. Were they me or something foreign, alien? One day, I’d discover this. Not now. I shoved them away then twined the blue bra around her wrists and knotted it, firmly.
Take care, I reminded my tamer brain. Her hands needed blood.
Just seeing her fingers wrapped in each other and the tie on her wrists made my dick harder.
Not once had I commanded her. This night must be ours, our desires entangled.
Tied up, quiet – apart from a few moans, and ready for me to do what I wanted. What was in the basement wanted exploring...
That could come later. Much, much later.
Rolling her panties down until her slit was reachable, seeable, lickable, that came next. “Are you wet enough?”
She tossed her hair as if to say no, and I snorted. “Liar. Just for that I’m using the steel-spiked dildo on you when we go downstairs.”
Her gasp of indignation made me grin.
That sounded fun, if only I knew where that was. Was it real? I hadn’t seen one when cleaning.
The dark things writhed, beckoned. I was certain a dildo with faux steel spikes was down there, in a drawer.
Was my memory was coming back? Magnus and I must’ve played with women together. Of all the things to forget.
A steel-pronged wooden dildo... The spikes dithered between real and not-real in my memory. I knew which I’d prefer.
This was supposed to be nice fucking.
Test her boundaries. One never knew if one didn’t try, especially where dildos with spikes were concerned.
“Wolfe –” she began.
“Didn’t I say no more talking?” I reached out mentally.
She shushed. Sometimes it was best to enforce orders.