LITMIR.BIZ

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of them.’

      ‘Do you like to suck his cock?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘What about when he eats you?’

      ‘Yes,’ she answered, though she knew she was only gifting him the cruellest of punchlines.

      He beckoned her with a crooked finger, and as she stepped unresisting between his knees he laid his hands upon her waist, caressing the smooth lines there. His fingers were cold too, but there was a perfect certainty in them. ‘Do you like it,’ he murmured, his lips parted hungrily, ‘when Kyle sucks your breasts?’

      ‘Yes,’ she said, trembling in his grasp. She felt Amanda’s hands close around her wrists and draw them back – the grip was not cruel, but it was unbreakable and she knew what it meant. And with her final admission, as if she no longer had any excuse or defence, his mouth closed upon her right nipple.

      Teeth punctured skin. The pain was as sharp and exquisite as orgasm and Rose arched, gasping aloud. She felt his hands slide up round her back. Then the searing pain became a pleasure just as keen, just as jagged, racing through her capillaries and flooding her senses. Her breast felt as if it were swelling beneath his ravenous kiss, red-hot against his cold tongue. He bit her over and over, lightly and almost tenderly, and then he shifted to her other breast and bestowed the same benison, tugging and sucking the swollen point.

      Rose sobbed with every tug and every pulse, panting wildly. She looked down at herself. She saw his dark head and his black lashes. She saw his clothes fall away from his shoulders, disintegrating to wisps and then to nothing, as if they were only woven of smoke, so that without the least effort he was suddenly naked. She glimpsed the bright smear of crimson, and then she shut her eyes and took refuge from that sight in the sensations that coursed through her, overwhelming all other instincts – even fear.

      ‘Now,’ said Reynauld thickly. He shifted and turned her to face outwards, pulling her down into his lap and spreading her legs. She felt his hard chest against her back, the rasp of his legs against her silk-clad thighs, and then the nudge of his erection between them in that soft wet open cleft. With one arm he held her; with the other hand he guided his cock to its target. She thought she was so slick she should have been able to take him easily, but his girth came as a shock and she gasped as it stretched her.

      ‘My Amanda does not yet have her new teeth,’ he said, his voice wet, working his way into Rose with consummate, implacable care, his fingers dancing on her clit now. ‘So I must bite for her. But you will find her kisses just as sweet as mine.’

      Drunk with arousal, Rose could hardly focus on what she saw before her: Amanda in her austere grey dress, her delicate face a mask of hunger; Amanda kneeling before the two of them and nuzzling up to her breasts, sucking and lapping at the runnels of blood. But Rose surely felt it – the same thrill that raced from the puncture wounds like liquid lightning, all the way to her clit and her burning core. Her arousal gathered like a thunderhead as he impaled her to the hilt.

      Then Reynauld caught her head and drew it back against his shoulder. She hung between orgasm and terror. She’d seen the movies; she knew he was going to bite out her exposed throat. His cold breath swept her neck and cheek and ear.

      ‘Give it up to me, Rose. Give it all up. Let my beloved taste your pleasure as you surrender to me – ah, yes.’

      Disobedience was never a possibility. Rose broke like a storm, and tears ran down her face as she howled.

      But he didn’t bite. To her indescribable relief and disappointment, he did not touch her throat. Instead, as Amanda lifted her face to show a scarlet lip-stain that looked garish against her porcelain pallor, he took Rose’s whole limp weight in his hands and began to slide her up and down on the cock impaling her.

      ‘Wait,’ said Amanda. ‘I know what you want.’ Taking Rose’s hands, she drew the girl to her feet, right off Reynauld, and turned her to face him again. A push on Rose’s shoulders dropped her to her knees. ‘Suck his cock,’ Amanda ordered.

      Reynauld’s expression filled with consternation, almost dismay – which Rose might have found baffling if her attention had not been fixed on other parts. His stiffly erect cock made Kyle’s look like a toy. She would hardly have believed that it had all been inside her, if it hadn’t been for the glistening evidence painted the length of its shaft.

      ‘Amanda, this isn’t –’ he said, his teeth bared like an attack-dog’s.

      ‘You want it,’ Amanda answered. She caught Rose’s hair and pushed her head to his cock. ‘Take it in your mouth.’

      Overbalancing, Rose grabbed his thighs. Hair ran rough beneath her palms. Oh fuck, he’s so … she cried inside her head. There was hair on his legs, his chest and his belly, as black and glistening as lines drawn in fresh ink. He was all muscle beneath it too, his thighs hard like stone and just as cold. She’d never touched a body like it. It made her feel ignorant and tiny. She opened her lips to the bell of his cock as Amanda forced her head down upon it, and tasted her own pussy on him.

      Reynauld made no more protestations.

      ‘Take it all in,’ Amanda commanded.

      Oh, God, there was no way on earth she could get that thing in all the way to the root. She laved him with her tongue, trying to make it more slippery and manageable, but Amanda pushed her right down until he butted the back of her throat. For a long moment she couldn’t draw breath. Then with a tug Amanda brought her back up for air, just before she started to panic.

      That was all that was required of her: to make her mouth welcoming. Amanda controlled the speed and rhythm. Reynauld’s hips jerked to urge his cock a little deeper every time. Her jaw began to ache from his girth, but she couldn’t stop. Her breasts burned. She longed for him to bite them again. She hurt with the need for it.

      As if he heard her wish, he reached down and pinched her nipples between his fingers and thumbs. Those buds of flesh were still as hot as if they’d been stung by wasps, and his touch was icy. It was torture, and it was what she needed. She felt herself open up, every part of her: cunt and throat all at once. She felt his thigh muscles jump beneath his skin as his length surged right into her throat, and then he let loose a cold flood of semen.

      Gasping for breath, she jerked herself free, his come running out of the corners of her mouth. Reynauld stared down at her, his bulk filling her vision. Then he snatched her right up off the floor and threw her on the bed. All teeth and cock, he wrenched her thighs apart and fell upon her pussy. Wrapping his mouth over her pubis, he bit down hard.

      Rose screamed. There was no distinction between terror and pain and pleasure in that cry; they were simultaneous and overwhelming. Then they too were overborne by the great supernova of her orgasm. She kept on coming as he fed, glutting himself on her ecstasy. She clutched the coverlet and bucked her hips and kicked against him – with utter lack of effect – until Amanda crawled up on to the bed to face him.

      Reynauld lifted his head then, his mouth leaking crimson. Amanda went to him, licking his lips – like a puppy to a big dog, thought Rose through the fog that blurred her mind. At that instant her whole picture of them flipped inside out. He is old, she thought, not with contempt but with a kind of vertigo. He’s so much older than her. And he fed her, letting her suck from his mouth, until the two of them moved into a full kiss whose unselfconscious absorption made Rose ache with jealousy.

      In her need she moaned out loud.

      Reynauld remembered her then. ‘Drink,’ he told Amanda, drawing her down to the open pussy he had abandoned. Amanda shifted to straddle Rose’s supine torso, head to tail, her knees either side of the younger woman’s shoulders, her wicked three-inch heels slicing the air, her tight skirt and neat ass filling Rose’s field of view. But Rose didn’t care; she had what she wanted – a mouth on her clit once more, sucking.

      She didn’t even care when Reynauld tugged that skirt right up – revealing dove-grey stockings, slim thighs and a lack of panties equivalent to her own – even though she’d

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