Bite Mark

by Lily Harlem

  A sudden sharp, shooting pain in my arsehole caused my whole body to jerk of its own volition, tension pouring back into me.

  Aimery slid almost out, allowing me to gather myself while I rode through the painful pleasure Ryle was subjecting me to. The experience of being stretched, opened by scissoring fingers ever increasing their V shapes, required some concentration. Nerve endings I didn’t know I possessed were being awakened but despite the burn, I wanted more.

  I thrust my hips up, seeking Ryle’s clever mouth on my clit. I didn’t get it.

  “Oh yeah, you love this, Bea, don’t you? Your arse is just swallowing my fingers up.” He gave a soft chuckle and withdrew.

  I groaned at the loss but the noise was cut off by Aimery slipping his cock deep into my mouth. Instead I kind of gurgled around him, which elicited a moan from Aimery as the noise vibrated through his shaft.

  “Time for this,” Ryle said, excitement lacing his tone.

  I heard something rattle on the metal trolley.

  The attention on my clit increased, I was pretty sure it was his tongue and not his fingertips. As a delicious, mounting heaviness caused my pussy to clench, a cool pressure eased into my anus again.

  It wasn’t his cock—it was tapered, like a cone. Pushing, unrelenting, shoving up into my arse higher and higher and with absolute determination.

  Slices of sharpness whipped my most delicate hole as the base width increased. But inside me the most exquisite fullness and density bloomed. I arched my spine, jabbed my hips up and then down, wanting to escape, needing more. I was convulsing on the table, my whole body desperate for it, hungry for the entire penetration and the wild ride to release.

  “Fuck her,” Aimery said harshly. “Ryle, fuck her. She needs it, now.”

  “Couldn’t agree more,” Ryle said darkly.

  I sensed him moving, standing perhaps. Whatever was so rudely invading my rectum had reached maximum penetration. Every part of my channel felt chock full, stretched to capacity. I was preparing for one almighty orgasm. Ryle’s tongue had been wickedly good at building up my climax and now my clit was throbbing and bobbing on its own, even without stimulation.

  I was sucking on Aimery so hard my cheeks ached and my jaw pained me. His grip on my hair was sore but I just added the sting to the maelstrom of other new, weird and wonderful sensations buzzing around inside of me.

  “Get ready to take me as well,” Ryle said.

  For a split second I wondered what he meant, then I was aware of the head of his cock at my pussy.

  Oh fuck, he wants inside me too.

  The thought utterly thrilled me.

  If I could have shouted “now” I would have, but my mouth was stuffed full of Aimery’s cock. He was pistoning in and out, on the brink, pre-cum had mixed with my saliva making my cheeks bulge with fluid.

  “Now,” Aimery gasped.

  A full-body shudder besieged me as Ryle drove in, fast and hard, just like he had before. There was no preamble with him. When he wanted to fuck, he just buried deep.

  My toes curled, my spine bowed. His balls crashed into my ass and against whatever toy sat inside me.

  “Ah…yeah…” he yelled, guttural and unrestrained.

  The seam between my arsehole and pussy entrance was stretched taut, as were my insides. My strained channel contracted against his steel-cold shaft. I’d never known filling like it, and with Aimery also bollocks-deep in my mouth, I truly felt possessed, owned by them.

  I was in heaven.

  Need twisted within me. The need to explode and find release. I let go of the table and gripped Aimery’s wrists. He picked up the pace to match Ryle’s wild fucking. I was being jostled in all directions, totally out of control. What they wanted they took. My body was theirs.

  The heat in my pussy was beyond flames, and the cauldron of desire in my pelvis was about to blow its lid. My orgasm was there, waiting to be claimed.

  A growl ripped from Aimery. Animalistic and feral. I knew what he needed; it was what I wanted too.

  I raised my arm, the delicate underside of my wrist facing him. I wanted him to feed from me, take blood from my wrist the same way the submissive vampire in the dungeon had.

  He grabbed my arm in a vise-like lock. A sharp, biting pain sliced through my skin and my orgasm toppled me into freefall.

  I jerked and bucked, meeting Ryle thrust for thrust, the bliss seemingly endless as he pounded against my clit and steamed in and out of me. The sounds of panting and glugging, bodies slapping together, was a storm in my ears. I was wild and high and getting catapulted higher with every hot draw of my blood.

  A sudden wild roar, like a man being murdered, filled the room. Through my spasming haze I realized it was Ryle. “Yeah, fuck, I’m going to bite you too.”

  White-hot needles of pain stabbed my right breast. The heat was as intense as any fire. It boiled and raged through me, adding fuel to my orgasm. Swirling me into the most intense experience of my life.

  Aimery was so hard in my mouth and the devil in me ditched breathing altogether to suck on him furiously. Wrapping my tongue around his shaft I rolled it wildly against his thumping flesh.

  The heat in my wrist intensified and shot straight to my cunt like an electric shock. Semen flooded my throat, cool and briny, and I swallowed, surprised by how easy the liquid went down despite my upturned position.

  My arsehole was contracting and my pussy pumping around Ryle’s cock. My climax had turned my whole body into a flare of bliss that was growing rather than dulling. I was as scared as I was ecstatic. I needed someone to catch me.

  Suddenly the heat in my wrist faded. But my climax didn’t. Wave after wave crested through me. Ryle wasn’t letting up with his frantic thrusts or greedy guzzling. My right breast was an inferno, but it didn’t hurt, despite the heat and the breaking of my skin; it just added to the wonder of the moment and my spin through sub-space.

  Spent, Aimery pulled out, cupped my nape and lifted my head.

  I sucked in much-needed air, snapped my eyes open and stared down at Ryle latched onto my breast. He was sucking, his bliss apparent as his back arced in sharp crunching movements and he forged his cock into me over and over.

  I let out a wail of desperation as my orgasm pulled me over another even higher ledge. I was approaching meltdown, my heart rate reaching dangerous levels. The thickness in my arse, the stiff cock in my pussy and the relentless bashing of my clit was taking me to another dimension.

  Suddenly Ryle released my breast. He butted in so deep my legs almost came out of the stirrups and if it wasn’t for Aimery behind me, I would have been shunted off the table.

  “Yes, yes, fucking hell, thanks to the Master,” Ryle yelled.

  An icy blast filled me, washing over tissue besieged with ecstasy.

  I scrabbled for his shoulders, dug in my fingers and watched as a drop of my blood balanced on his bottom lip and then fell and landed on my wounded breast.

  “Oh God, Ryle,” I gasped. I was in wonder at the expression on his face. It was a mixture of both agony and rapture. “Keep coming with me.”

  “I am,” he groaned, screwing up his nose and shutting his eyes, another cool flood burst within me. “Oh, it’s just too fucking amazing.”

  He gave one final shove and I realized that my own, uncontrollable release was beginning to abate, as was the heat threatening to set me alight.

  I might survive this after all.

  “Ah, sweet Beatrice,” Aimery said, lodging the section of bench back beneath my head so I could rest my neck down. “You are so generous with your blood and your body.”

  “I wanted you to have it,” I said, panting wildly and staring up at him.

  “It’s the most amazing flavor,” Ryle gasped, tipping over me. “Taste it.” He pressed his lips to mine and the intensely metallic tang of my blood seeped onto my tongue. It just tasted how blood tasted when I bit my lip by mistake, but I was happy to have his kiss.

  “It’s like a mixture of
cassis and blackcurrant.” He paused to pull in a deep breath and grinned. “Like a hot summer night where all your fantasies come true.”

  “But most of all, it gives us the one feeling we don’t have,” Aimery said, pushing hair from my sweat-damp forehead. “It makes us feel alive again.”

  “Good, I’m glad.” My words sounded slurred even to my own ears. I shut my eyes, and a black-velvet cloak of utter satiation enveloped me. I was aware of Aimery kissing my forehead and my pussy giving a final contraction around Ryle’s shaft. My arse still felt bloated and stuffed full.

  “We’ve worn her out,” Ryle said, his voice distant and echoing.

  “I knew it would be too much,” Aimery answered, his breath cooling the perspiration on my face.

  “No…I’m fine,” I managed to say, then yawned. My heart was slowing, my pulse less loud in my ears. The warmth flooding my body was like the finest brandy and Ryle’s chest pressing over mine was a wonderful blanket.

  As I closed my mouth, I gave into the denseness of my exhaustion. Let darkness wrap around me and carry me into a deep and dreamless sleep.

  My final thought was that I’d been fucked into unconsciousness.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The bedroom was still and empty when I awoke. My backhole was tender but the plug had gone. My pussy felt a little delicate, the effects of the intense fucking still evident. I rubbed the small scabs on my wrist and breasts and then the back of my neck. My neck was back to normal, no evidence of bite marks at all. I’d healed very quickly.

  After stretching out my aching limbs, I slipped from Aimery’s big bed and dragged on my jeans, sweater and sneakers. My mouth was dry and I was glad to see the kettle.

  I was just about to make tea when I hesitated.

  Denny’s words came back to me. Magic. Makes you feel great.

  The last two days had been a wild ride. Vampires and secret companies, Denny getting married, sex dungeons and the most mind-blowing fuck of my life, ever, bar none. Perhaps today I should just stick to water and try to have a clear head.

  After drinking from the bathroom tap and smoothing my hair into a semi-respectable style, I wandered into Aimery’s office, presuming the men must be in there.

  It was empty.

  A dying fire waned in the grate and the curtains were half open to the dull October day. It was drizzling, and thick gray clouds hung heavy and swollen in the London sky.

  As I moved to the fireplace the phone on Aimery’s desk rang, the sound tinkling around the wood-paneled room. I wavered for a second then picked it up. Perhaps it was Aimery or Ryle.

  “Aimery?” A woman’s voice.

  “No, Aimery isn’t here, this is Bea.”

  “Is Ryle there then?”

  “Um, no.” I wound the old-fashioned, spiral cord around my index finger.

  There was a long pause. “Ah, well that is interesting isn’t it?”

  “Who is this?” I asked, though as I’d posed the question I’d guessed. I would recognize the caustic undercurrents in Elfrida’s tone anywhere.

  “You know who it is.”

  I paused. “Why is it interesting that neither of them are here?”

  “Well, for one I’m surprised they’ve left their new toy alone—”

  “Toy?” I took offense to that for starters.

  “Yes, toy. You don’t really think those two beautiful men are serious about you, do you, Beatrice?”

  “Actually, they do seem to be.”

  “They are good actors.”

  What a bitch.

  I turned and looked at the door. A nasty sinking feeling was settling in my belly that had nothing to do with her cattiness and everything to do with my aloneness. “And what’s the other reason you’re surprised neither of them are here?” I asked.

  “Well, I probably shouldn’t say. It might interfere with their plans to get rid of the, er, problem.”

  “Problem?” That sinking feeling was turning to one of acute nausea. I swallowed down a bite of bile and wished I hadn’t glugged so much water.

  “Yes, the one problem that stands in their way of having an affirmation ceremony with you.”

  “I, I don’t understand.”

  Shit, I think I do.

  “Beatrice.” Her voice was like a shard of ice and sliced right through me. “You’re a clever girl, think back to the session in chambers yesterday, what or rather who was the issue—?”

  I slammed down the phone. I had to get home, to my father, protect him somehow, anyhow. Having him in my life was clearly a problem to the vampires, who liked to have their mates free from family. And how did they get rid of problems? They sucked the life from them.

  Shit.

  I raced to the door, pulled it open but then paused on the landing and stared at the tapestry. I was being hasty. Aimery and Ryle wouldn’t hurt Dad, surely.

  My gaze settled on a vampire with knots of black thread sewn around his mouth to resemble blood. I thought of Ryle with blood smeared on his face after killing Sean. What if that was what Aimery and Ryle had gone to do to my father? Suck his blood, kill him, bury him in a shallow grave up on the heath.

  No, this can’t be right.

  Aimery and Ryle were good men. Loving, giving and had only been kind and caring with me. Why would they suddenly change and do something that would hurt me? Which killing my father most certainly would.

  I glanced back at Aimery’s office. I should just wait for them to return. They’d probably gone for a walk or something. Left me sleeping off my physical exhaustion.

  Tea, I should make some tea.

  Double shit.

  How could I have been so stupid? The damn tea was messing with my mind. Was it making me trust them when I shouldn’t? Fuck. I tore down the back stairs, the ones I’d used on my first visit to the company, taking two at a time and using the banister to slip and skid even faster to the bottom.

  Thankfully, the door to the courtyard garden was open and I barged through it, not bothering to close it behind myself.

  Running along the gravel pathway, toward the gate, I squinted against the bitterly cold rain. The sharp air caught in my lungs and the chill penetrated my sweater and chilled my flesh. But I didn’t care. Only one thing was on my mind. Getting home. Dad getting hurt was a risk I couldn’t take.

  It was Saturday so my father would be treating himself to a pie and chip lunch and then an afternoon of watching the races on TV. I’d seen movies, TV, and if the vampire rule about them having to be invited over the threshold was true, then as long as he didn’t let Aimery or Ryle in the house he’d be safe. The trouble was he’d met Aimery and thought him a nice gentleman, why the hell wouldn’t he invite him in for a cuppa?

  Aimery is a nice gentleman.

  The gate squeaked a protest when I yanked it open. Again I didn’t pause to shut it, just hurtled down the alleyway, my panting breaths echoing around the damp walls and my frantic footsteps like bullets ricocheting around me.

  I couldn’t afford the risk. Aimery and Ryle had powers I had yet to completely understand and my father, well, he was just Dad. No match for them.

  Once out on the street I glanced left and right, desperately hoping to see a cab. Of course there wasn’t one. This was a ghost street.

  My hesitation and irritation lasted only a split second because then I was pelting toward Smokehouse Yard. I needed to get on Charterhouse. There would be taxis plenty there. If I could just make it another few hundred meters.

  My heart thundered in my chest as I raced along. Not only was I terrified for my father, I was also scared that Elfrida was following me. There was nothing about her that suggested she was a quitter, and I had the distinct impression she looked upon me as a personal challenge.

  Luckily no one jumped out, the path wasn’t icy, just wet, and I was soon on Charterhouse hailing a taxi.

  As I jumped in I cast a glance behind me. The street was busy with people and packed with a rainbow of umbrellas.

  Th
ere was no way of knowing if Elfrida had followed me. But at least I’d made it out of the Worshipful Company alive.

  * * * * *

  When I reached home it was with relief that I found a twenty-pound note in my jeans pocket. It just covered the fare and I didn’t wait around for change. I had to move fast.

  I darted from the taxi, up the crazy-paving garden path and retrieved the spare key from under a pottery statue of a fat pig.

  As I shoved it into the Yale I glanced through the living room’s bay window. Even through the slightly grimy nets I could see all looked quiet. On such a dull day I would have expected a light on and certainly the TV as Dad enjoyed the buildup to his afternoon of fluttering on the horses.

  “Dad, Dad,” I shouted, rushing into the hallway without removing my sneakers as I usually would. “Dad, where are you?”

  Panic was another living, breathing part of me. It tightened my throat and made my legs feel floaty, like they weren’t even mine.

  The front room was, as I suspected, empty and quiet. I didn’t even bother to glance in the dining room. Since my mother had passed we never used it.

  “Dad, where are you?” I shouted up the stairs, gripping the round ball on the base of the bannister. “Dad, answer me.”

  Nothing.

  I struggled to keep the shake from my voice. The thought of him bitten, drained and being buried was too hideous to think about.

  But really? Would Aimery and Ryle do that?

  I hoped not, but Elfrida had put the idea into my mind and now my overzealous imagination was having a field day.

  I darted into the kitchen. Empty, not even a lingering scent of cooking. There was a used cereal bowl by the sink with a splash of milk and a soggy cornflake floating in it.

  “Shit,” I said, rubbing my temples. “Shit, shit, shit.”

  A note on the pine table caught my attention. I lunged for it.

  Bea, gone to the stall to sort through some accounts. Bloody taxman is hassling me again. Back later.

  Relief swamped me. Thank God. He was just at the market. But as soon as relief showed itself, terror took its place again.

  It meant nothing that he was at the market. He was just as vulnerable there.