‘You want me to do what?’

He chuckles. Even that sound seems illicit and dancing with power tonight. ‘Show me that this is a mutual appreciation society.’

I unbutton the top button of his jeans and slide the zip down, to see the tip of his erection poking out of his underwear. ‘Oh, you animal, you,’ I tease. My thighs twitch as I release his shaft. It bounces out and I stop with a gasp. My eyes run into his, shocked, questioning.

‘You’re…different,’ I say.

He laughs.

‘What have you done?’

‘An old woman came by while you were out shopping and expertly stung me with two bees.’

‘What?’

‘You heard.’

‘When you say old, how old was she?’

‘At least ninety-seven and she was only about four feet tall.’

I laugh breathlessly. ‘Did it hurt?’

‘Like two mosquito bites.’

I drop my scandalized eyes down to his exposed cock. It seems massively swollen, brutally aggressive, and…well, thrilling.

‘Do you like it?’ he purrs.

‘I don’t know, yet. I kind of liked it before too.’

His eyes glint. ‘Try it and then complain.’

Right, when in Rome… ‘That can be arranged,’ I say huskily.

Holding the swollen shaft by the base I lower myself onto it and slide down its hard length slowly, conscious of the unfamiliar feeling of being so incredibly stretched and filled. I get halfway and have to take a deep breath.

‘You are soooo much bigger and thicker,’ I whisper in his ear.

‘It’s creepy how obsessed I am with you,’ he rumbles from deep within his chest, and taking my chin in his fingers pulls my lips to his. I gasp into his mouth, and fight for his tongue, bring it into my mouth, and suck it. Every nerve in my body feels alive, with his tongue in my mouth and my sex unbearably stretched. The kiss deepens. Breathlessly, I feel my dazzled body being slowly pushed down the thick shaft. He takes his mouth away from me and says something but I don’t hear.

I am all sensation. The music, the smoky air, the sounds of other people having sex. He takes my nipples in his fingers and tugs them, but so gently, they ache for a good sucking in his mouth. All the while he is shoving his cock deeper and deeper into me. I moan helplessly as I squirm downwards. The breeze from an air con vent blows chilled air over our heads. Smoke curls around us like ghostly snakes or dragons. Anyone can see us and what we are up to but I don’t care.

My tiny, entirely complete world of him, me and his bee-stung cock is rudely interrupted when I feel a hand on my shoulder. The touch is light but utterly alien and unwelcome. My hands grip Blake’s shoulders as my head swivels back with the same creeped out horror as having a spider fall on my bare skin.

A woman is standing next to me. Like most of the other local girls in that club, she has straight, long black hair and is scantily clad in a bikini bra and shiny black shorts. Under the spotlights her skin glows smooth and moon pale.

‘Can I join you?’ she asks. Her accent is Americanized.

She is touching me and asking me, but she is looking at Blake. My mind goes blank except for the weird thought that Billie would probably like her small-boned girl-body. Me? I look at the bulletproof lipstick, almond eyes, and the totally impenetrable expression and I think—poison!

The shock and embarrassment of being caught sitting on a dick wears off dead quick and my mating response takes over, and it is so instinctive, so animalistic, and so loaded with the threat of actual violence that it shocks another detached, watching part of myself. No, I fucking wouldn’t like you to join in. I actually want to hiss at her. If I had fangs I would have bared them at her.

The air crackles with my sudden animosity.

Blake’s voice cuts into my simmering rage. ‘No. You can’t,’ he tells her, his voice edged not with the fury I am experiencing, but simply with impatience at being interrupted.

She slinks away wordlessly and I watch her go, still in a jealous fury.

‘I don’t want to share you with her or anyone,’ he whispers in my ear, and I am suddenly euphoric because damn, if I didn’t loathe even more the thought that he might have wanted her to join in.

I turn back to look into his eyes. His gaze locks with mine, mesmeric, dizzying, sweetening the poisoned air. Making a protective cage around us. He is looking at me so hungrily, it is as if I am food or prey. I latch onto the hunger eagerly. This is my mate. And only mine.

‘Baby,’ he growls. His voice is so full of hot lust, its vibration sizzles through me, intoxicating me. I exhale, almost a moan. He gets harder and bigger inside.

I grip him with my thighs. Looking deep into my eyes he grabs my bare ass with his powerful hands, ramming me all the way down that pillar of meat. ‘It’s all for you,’ he says with a dark laugh.

‘Fuck, yeah,’ I cry hoarsely. And I feel myself flush with the feeling, the indignity of total possession.

He begins to slowly move my body up and down the shaft. The first few strokes are shallow, then it is to the hilt and my breath gets knocked out of my body. My flesh shivers as my muscles clench tighter.

‘You won’t believe how hot and tight you feel,’ he whispers, his hand sliding down my belly, and between my legs to play with my clit.

That makes me swoon. Surely I am not going to come so quickly. My body arches like a bow. I grasp his arms—the muscles are bulging with the effort of holding my body and moving it up and down his shaft. I lock my jaw as my chin lifts up, to stop from screaming. And then it comes, a liquid explosion inside me. It is powerful and totally different from any other orgasm I have experienced. It is dark and thick and flavored with something forbidden. On and on until my energy is spent.

My dazed eyes return to his eye level. His are smoldering darkly with fresh intent. His cock jerks within me as he lifts my body and drops it hard and fast on his shaft. My mouth opens involuntarily. My sated flesh purrs and comes alive again. I balance myself on his shoulder and rise to my knees. My limbs slick with sweat, I fuck him as hard and as fast as I can. The wet heat and friction are delicious.

He comes snarling my name, his seed shooting into my body, mixing with my fluids in a long, hot release. His breath is rough and ragged. I put my hand on his chest and feel his heartbeat, swift and loud. An African drum in Thailand.

‘I want to go home and finish this,’ he says.

My eyebrows fly upwards. ‘After that.’

He grins. Feral. ‘I want to take your bra off and suck your breasts, deep pulls that will leave you squirming and delirious.’

Not taking my eyes off his, I uncouple from his cock, making a most unladylike sucking sound. He pulls my dress over my dripping sex. Cum is still trickling out of me as we leave the nightclub.

Twelve

Victoria Jane Montgomery

That night I wait until it is late. I lie in my bed and watch the low-lying mist shroud the vast expanse of green outside this dreadful mad house until the phones by the nurses’ station have stopped ringing. Until there is no more noise other than the odd screaming that will suddenly pierce the night. Until the lone night nurse thinks everybody is asleep and she is busy watching porn on the Internet.

Then I get under the covers and shine the little torch my mother brought me on my musical box. It is an old antique. A ballerina in a lilac tutu. The tutu is almost gray now. I touch the delicately painted porcelain face. It belonged to my great grandmother and came directly from her to me. It did not pass my grandmother or mother so they do not know about the secret compartment it conceals at the bottom of the figurine.

Carefully, I depress the lever that opens it. So many years since I opened it. It is a little sticky and I pull it, but that just jams the drawer. I come out of the covers and look for something to pull it open with. A knife or anything sharp, but there is nothing sharp in the room or the bathroom. In frustration I bang the ballerina with the side of my fist. It still will not open. For some reason this infuriates me to unreasonable anger.