He walks away whistling, his cart squeaking. I want to slam the nearest filing cabinet closed. The information that Reinhardt has betrayed the State could have got me out of East Berlin and surely curried me enough favor with Peter’s group for them to discover where my father is. It’s all I want, and yet I told him that ridiculous rumor of Frau Fischer’s instead.
In the afternoon Reinhardt calls me into his office to dictate a letter and when he’s finished I don’t leave. I go around the desk and stand before my lover. I’ll tell Peter tomorrow. Let me feel Reinhardt against me just one more time. I will drink my fill of him. What we have comes along just once in a lifetime, if you’re lucky to find it at all, and we found it in the most unlikely place, scarred by a Wall, by bullets, by razor wire. I sink down between his thighs and reach for the belt on his trousers. He watches me, transfixed, as I take him out and lick the length of him. I suck the tip of his cock slowly, caressing him with my tongue and then take him into my mouth. His hands slide into my hair, cupping my head, and he lets out a soft moan.
“Evony, Liebling.” I can feel his eyes on me, wondering at my audacity, my willingness. I’ve never done this before but I like it, having him at my mercy for a change, and when I feel the fierce ache between my legs I understand why he enjoys doing the same to me so much.
His breathing has become shallow and rapid and he’s hot and swollen in my mouth when there’s a knock on his office door and the sound of someone turning the handle. I start, because with Lenore outside I thought we were safe from intruders. Reinhardt swears and pushes me beneath his desk. It sits flush against the floor which means whoever’s entering won’t see me hiding underneath.
Trapped in the cramped space I consider sitting quietly, waiting for whoever it is to leave, but something wicked steals over me and I put out my tongue and lick him, and then take him in my mouth again. Reinhardt’s voice hitches and I expect him to push me away, but he doesn’t. As he talks I slide the length of him to the back of my throat, pushing him as deep as I can and rubbing him with my tongue. I tease him, lick him, suck him, while he carries on a conversation about a Party delegation trip to Romania. I feel myself growing very aroused, and my mouth works his length lovingly. As I take him all the way down to my throat again and I hear him fumble for his cigarettes, the flick of the lighter and then a long, slow exhalation. I shake with silent laughter and his legs around me tighten in warning.
Finally, the person leaves. The door clicks, and Reinhardt pushes back from his desk with a shuddering gasp and drags me up by the elbows. His eyes burn furiously into mine. “You little minx.”
I lick my lips and smile up at him, not in the least sorry. He turns me and pushes me facedown over his desk and rucks my skirt up, exposing my behind. I’m half moaning, half laughing softly as he yanks my underwear to one side.
“Is it amusing to you, trying your best to make me come while I’m having a meeting?”
I feel the tip of his cock pressing against my sex, sliding through the wetness that has gathered there.
I open my legs wider and look back at him, goading him, wanting him furious so that he fucks me hard and fast like I need him to.
“Yes, Reinhardt.”
He growls, and then thrusts hard, and I have to cover my mouth to keep from crying out so loudly that the whole of HQ will hear me. The tight angle of his thrusts and being bent over his desk inflames me and I press back against his hard, hungry strokes. Needing more of him. Needing everything.
He fucks me with the fast, selfish strokes of a man who’s been driven to the brink of madness. He wants me to feel what I’ve done to him, half punishing, half admiring. There’s nothing gentle about the way he’s pinned me down and I know I’ll feel this tomorrow. I want to feel this tomorrow.
He grips the nape of my neck, the weight of him trapping me exactly where I want to be. The sensations build, white-hot and overwhelming, and I bury my face in my arms as I come, struggling to remain silent, my climax going on and on, pushed higher with his every thrust. I hear him smother his own groan of release, and he presses as deep as he can, his seed spurting as he comes.
We’re both out breath in the aftermath and he helps me woozily up. “Mein süsses Mädchen.” My sweet girl. We perch on the edge of his desk, limbs tangled, breaths merging. I rest the full weight of my heart against him and close my eyes.
He’ll soon be in a cold cell in Hohenschönhausen. I flinch, and hide my face in his shoulder. This knowledge will be a shard of ice deep inside me once I am in the West, this lion of a man, put in a cage.
“What’s wrong, Liebling?” he asks, caressing my cheek.
I force a smile and shake my head, and after straightening my clothes and giving him a final kiss I go back to my desk. Lenore is dabbing at a damp patch on her skirt and frowning.
“I dropped a whole glass of water in my lap and had to go to the restroom for paper towels. Can you believe it?”
I give her a sympathetic smile and slip behind my desk.
That night is my last night and I’m too restless to sleep, so I leave my room yet again to tail Reinhardt. I think I just want to see him, be with him, in this strange, watchful way. I climb up through the trapdoor at ten-forty-five and pick my way carefully along the rafters to the empty apartment, and the routine of it is soothing.
I’m careful to keep to the shadows cast by high walls and spreading trees. The Trabant is parked two streets away and I’m fishing the keys out of my pocket when a movement out of the corner of my eye snares my attention. I look up and see the glowing red tip of a cigarette. Someone exhales slowly, letting out a plume of gray-blue smoke that catches in the streetlight. A voice speaks out of the darkness.
“Guten Abend, Fräulein Daumler. You are out very late.”
Chapter Nineteen
Evony
Reinhardt steps out of the shadows, his manner ostentatiously casual as he drops his cigarette onto the ground and grinds it out with his boot. His gaze rakes me from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. But he’s not casual, or even calm. There’s fury burning in his eyes.
“How long?” he asks.
How long have I been sneaking out to spy on him. I swallow, my mouth dry. “Since you… Since we first went to bed together.”
He nods slowly, his eyes dropping to the pavement but not before I see bitterness and disappointment flash through them. He believed what I told him with my body. That I was his, always. I never wanted to look into his eyes and see the painful knowledge that I’ve betrayed him.
“How did you find me out?”