Refresh

by Suzanne Steele

  He pushed Sic away, then zipped his pants and rested his free hand on the desktop as he released a deep, satisfied exhale. “Good, Sic. That will be all for now.” He directed a sharp look in Razor’s direction. “But as for you… Finish him, Essie. I don’t have all day.”

  What followed would haunt Razor’s subconscious mind when he tried to make sense of the events of that day.

  “Finish wh-what?” he asked, his voice groggy as his heavy-lidded, pleasured gaze followed Phenex’s. He blinked hard to focus his vision on his own crotch and was met with a horrifying sight: his naked hips were rolling of their own volition, pushing his engorged dick deep inside the dead girl’s ravenous mouth. It was like something out of a horror film–no, more like a nightmare because he couldn’t think clearly or speak. But he sure as fuck could feel her working him over. The sensations were so wrong but so overwhelmingly good.

  The way her head moved on him was jerky and unnatural. She frantically sucked and licked his length, deepthroating him with no hint of a gag reflex. As she worked him over, she stared up at him blankly without blinking. Her skin was a mottled gray and her eyes bore the deep shadows of fatigue and decay. Her lips had that same blueish cast he’d noticed before, but up close he could see that the flesh had formed deep cracks and would surely have been bleeding had she still been alive. Her matted hair of indeterminant color was tangled around her shoulders.

  “More. Let’s take it all,” Phenex murmured quietly, his eyes gleaming with malice. “You’ll find, Razor, that she has no will of her own. Only mine.” The words were spoken softly as Phenex tilted his head this way and that, his eyes narrowing as he mentally orchestrated her efforts.

  Down, down, down she went until her chin was bouncing furiously against Razor’s balls. With no need to pause for air, she was relentless and untiring. He’d had plenty of blowjobs, but she slurped and sucked him at a punishing pace that was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. Even as the thought of being in this creature’s mouth made Razor want to gag, his traitorous dick refused to listen to his brain’s pleas for resistance.

  Phenex looked on, his nostrils flaring wickedly. Her eyes remained vacant and lifeless even as her movements became frenzied. She sucked Razor’s dick down the column of her throat, but she didn’t stop there. With a harsh jerk of her head, she opened her mouth impossibly wider. Razor shook his head and blinked several times in horror: she had dislocated her own jaw. She sucked his balls into her mouth along with his dick, at the same time. How was that even possible?!

  With his cock and balls under siege inside her mouth, Razor’s head lolled back limply. His chest heaved as he struggled for air. Fighting or resisting was simply beyond him. His lips went slack as guttural sounds of confused pleasure poured from his throat.

  Razor’s mind raced with groggy, disjointed thoughts. What kind of madman maintained a harem of dead girls and shared them with his guests?

  “Oh, Esmeralda’s not dead; at least, not in the traditional sense. No, I prefer the term ‘undead’. And this? It’s called hospitality.” Phenex’s voice barely broke through Razor’s altered, blissed-out state of consciousness. “Now, Esmeralda. And be quick about it.” His quiet instructions were issued from above Razor’s head as Phenex stood over him and watched the proceedings with clinical, vaguely amused interest.

  As overwhelming as the urge was for Razor to run screaming from the room, the chemically-enhanced, taboo-laced pleasure was more compelling. Faced with the bleary look in her lifeless eyes, he gave up all pretense of resistance and surrendered to the ‘undead’ creature’s oral prowess.

  With her face pressed firmly against his groin, her tongue wiggled wildly across the base of his balls and along his taint, before slithering farther down to aggressively probe his puckered rear entrance. His body stiffened at the unfamiliar sensation, but then her tongue moved north again and she jammed her finger into his asshole up to the knuckle. He screamed as his balls drew up tight and his cock sent gushing spurts of cum straight down her throat.

  Some time later, he regained consciousness on the settee. He was sitting up next to Sic. He was fully dressed and the dead girl was gone.

  The dead girl. Undead. Whatever.

  He’d been given head by a dead girl. And Phenex had been pleasured by…Sic. What the hell was going on? Was Phenex running some kind of opioid-laced zombie brothel or something? Was that even possible?

  He turned to Sic and whispered, “Man, does he do this kind of shit a lot?”

  His question was met with a blank stare before Sic frowned and shrugged. “Does he do what a lot? What do you mean? The pipe? Yeah, he’s smoked that every time I’ve been here. I tend to get a little buzz just from the secondhand smoke and doze off, but it’s fine. I just wait until he’s ready to talk business. Looks like he’s ready to talk now. Listen up.” He tilted his chin toward Phenex, who was rising to his feet from the chair behind his desk.

  Phenex stepped from around the desk and stood in front of the men, straightening the lapels of his red and black satin smoking jacket as he fastened the sash at his waist.

  “I assure you, Razor, I am not a vampire. I am like nothing you have ever encountered before, but I am most definitely not a vampire.”

  Razor looked up, studying the man, all his fear gone. Now there was only a euphoric, inexplicable desire to please the man who directed their efforts.

  Phenex puffed on the pipe again, blowing smoke in the men’s direction. Razor found the aroma more appealing now and found himself leaning in to draw the acrid sweetness into his lungs.

  Phenex laughed indulgently. “Now, now, let’s not be greedy, hmm?” Abruptly, his voice turned brusque and businesslike. “Unfortunately, we have a problem, gentlemen: the whore who stumbled upon Randy’s execution. She doesn’t know much but even that’s too much. She’s already been to the police, whining and crying for protection from the big, bad wolf. So, Razor, my question is simple: Why. Didn’t. You. Kill. Her?”

  His face was now so close that Razor swore he could pick up the faint scent of sulfur wafting from Phenex’s skin. Okay, maybe it was time to be afraid.

  Razor squirmed in his seat as both men seemed to be waiting for an answer. He thought Sic seemed a little too pleased to not be in the hot seat. Fucker…

  “Honestly, sir, I didn’t think you’d want another dead body in that alley. And it’s not like she knows me.”

  Phenex continued speaking, ignoring Razor’s reply. “Not to mention the john who was accompanying her. You left two witnesses. Such sloppiness could draw unwanted attention to my life’s work. Now what the fuck do you two plan to do about it?”

  Both men slumped back into the couch, as if they could will it to swallow them up. If they didn’t know any better they could have sworn flames were dancing in Phenex’s eyes, but that wasn’t possible. It had to be the effects of breathing in the second-hand fumes from whatever he was smoking in that pipe.

  “Whatever you want us to do, sir.”

  “You’re right, both of you. Sic, I’m sure you weren’t under the illusion you were escaping my wrath over such a grievous error in judgment.”

  Sic shook his head wildly back and forth in agreement. “What can we do to make this right?” he sniveled.

  “Find them and kill them. Don’t make the mistake of disappointing me.”

  An instant later, both men looked across the room to where Phenex was once again standing in the shadows. They hadn’t seen him move.

  “Winston.”

  The butler appeared in the doorway as if he’d been awaiting his master’s beckoning.

  “Escort these gentlemen from the premises.”

  They got up to follow the butler out, grabbing onto each other as they adjusted their wobbling gait.

  Phenex waited until they were at the doorway of the study before speaking. “Kill them, or I’ll kill you. Both of you.”

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Rain’s family home in Santo Domingo had been m
ore of a hut than a house. A one-room structure with dirt floors and no promise of better days. In this part of the world you were born into your station in life. No matter how hopeless one’s long-term prospects were, it was a fact of life that few people ever changed their destiny. Fate was a random bitch who felt no remorse for those she left languishing in filth.

  Rain looked up at the tall, dark, handsome man who looked so out of place standing by her side in front of her parents. One look at his understated, bespoke suit and crisp, white French-cuffed shirt, complete with elegant cufflinks, and it was obvious that he was financially blessed. The way he held her hand made it clear that he wanted to share it all with her.

  It wasn’t just his masculine yet elegant stature that made an impression on all he met; it was his charisma. Within seconds of Rain meeting him in the teeming village marketplace, nothing had existed for her but him. And whether he was turning his charm on her or her parents, he made everyone feel that they were the only person who mattered to him in that moment.

  His compelling presence dominated his surroundings wherever he went. Anyone who met him could tell that he wasn’t just rich–he was important. There was something different about him; an air of mystery.

  Rain knew he wasn’t accustomed to hearing the word ‘no’ and in this case he wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. She listened to him talking to her mother, pleading his case as if Rain weren’t even in the room. He had no shame about what he was asking of her mother.

  “I’ll give your daughter a life that she has only been able to dream of up until this point, and we will share our good fortune with you. I won’t just give her a better life; I’ll give you and your husband–your whole family–a life beyond your wildest dreams. I will provide for all of your needs. No more dirt floors. No more one-room house.”

  Her mother got her back up, as her pride came to the forefront. “You find our home lacking, do you?”

  He smiled, immediately realizing his mistake. “Certainly not. Forgive me; I did not intend to insult you. You have been far more gracious and welcoming to me than I have experienced in the grandest castles of Europe. But I want Rain to be happy and I know she will worry about you here.”

  “We do not require a big house,” her mother said stiffly.

  “You may have whatever house you want, and decorate it however you want. We’ll keep it cozy so Rain won’t get lost trying to find you when she visits.” The way Rain squeezed his hand in silent approval let him know he’d struck the right chord with her mother. They were very close, Rain and her mother, so it was important to him that she be happy with his plans to provide for her family. “The only thing I require is Rain by my side as my wife. I humbly ask you for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  Her father stood, pulling himself up to his full height. The two men faced each other for a long, tense moment. Then her father shook Blaze’s hand and maintained a strong grip as he said, “Take her with you. I give her into your care. All I ask is that you love her. Never betray her or mistreat her in any way. Can you promise me that you will honor my little girl and never hurt her?”

  “You have my word, sir. I’ll take her with me to the United States as soon as we are married. I’ve taken the liberty of making arrangements for us to be married at the courthouse. Once we’re settled in the States I’ll give her a proper wedding and bring your family over to attend.”

  He’d paid off several city officials to ensure they were able to marry the same day, which was unheard of in Santo Domingo. Such a bold move sent a clear message to Rain and her family that this stranger had power. With the right connections and financial security, anything could be bought or sold in this part of the world.

  After the ceremony, he’d taken her straight to the airport and insisted on carrying her up the steps of his private plane and over the threshold. She was naked in his arms before they started taxiing down the runway. She’d had her first orgasm before they left the ground, and he’d taken her hymen before they reached cruising altitude. He’d been gentle as he’d claimed her innocence, taking care to make sure it was good for her. Then he’d fucked her good and hard until she lost her mind. He’d been her first and only lover. He soon established himself as her dark, mysterious Prince Charming. And so it remained even years later.

  Through it all, their love had prevailed and now their love would be eternal thanks to the mystical forces at work that she did not yet fully comprehend. She and Blaze had lived together, but now they had died and even been resurrected together. Not many couples could say that.

  Rain smiled at the understatement of a lifetime, her smile growing as she ran her brush through her hair before placing it on her makeup table. She closed her eyes and turned her head to the side, listening and waiting. With Blaze’s obsession once again unleashed to its full power, she could feel his approach before he ever reached her.

  “My darling, sacred princessa.” His hand slid around her throat. She opened her eyes and looked in the mirror. From where she sat at her makeup table, she was looking up into the dark eyes of the man whose obsession with her was the solid, unwavering foundation of her life and her happiness.

  His hand tightened just enough to convey an intoxicating sensual threat. “My obsession for you grows daily,” he whispered. “It is a fire that consumes me. You have bewitched me. I fear what I might do if called upon, to keep you safe, my love.” His voice was a low, ominous rumble that conveyed more emotion than if he’d been shouting his devotion from the rooftops.

  His massive hand slid down her throat to the opening of her satin robe. He untied the sash that secured the only barrier keeping him from his desired destination. His fingers slid down beneath the front of the matching satin panties. When she attempted to close her legs he reached down and pinched her inner thigh. He would kiss the bruise later, a visible reminder of his obsession.

  He leaned down and kissed her neck, complaining hoarsely, “Would you deny me what is mine? You should know by now that’s an impossibility. To the ends of the earth, my love; to the end of time, you are mine. I refuse to be denied that which sustains me.”

  Her legs opened even as the truth hit her: he would never let her go. She was property–his property.

  “Good girl,” he crooned as he slid his finger through her drenched folds. Her body never ceased to betray her to the man who had taken her so decisively and made her his own. He had to have her, felt compelled to claim her over and over by renewing their vows each year, and by fucking her at every opportunity until she couldn’t remember her own name. She was the only light he possessed. He was a man accustomed to taking what he wanted in business and now, because of her, in pleasure as well.

  He took her mouth in a searing kiss, then spread the petals of her sex and slid two fingers inside as his thumb stroked her clit. She moaned against his mouth, unable to resist the burgeoning tingling sensation deep in her core.

  “That’s it. Fuck my fingers.” His cock throbbed with need at the sound of her whimpering. He loved these moments when her walls came crashing down and all reserve was cast aside. She was open and vulnerable to him, unashamed in her deep and abiding need for him. The sight of her, exposed and at his mercy–and happy to be so–was a drug he would never get enough of. God, how he loved her.

  He plundered her neck and shoulders with kisses as he breathed his confession against her silky skin: “I would kill to keep you, die to protect you, and walk through the nine circles of hell just to be with you.” It was true and she knew it. Other men gave poetry, roses, and champagne; her husband ripped his heart out, held the bloody mass in his hand, and gave it to her as an offering. She held a part of him no one else ever had or would.

  Her breathing became ragged as her body shuddered with pleasure at his touch. The climax rolled through her, obliterating the last vestiges of reserve and self-preservation that she may have still possessed.

  Impassioned by the sight and sound of her pleasure, he fisted her hair, pulling her
from the seat before she could object–as if it would do her any good. He led her by her hair to the loveseat, bending her body over the upholstered arm and flipping the fabric of her robe up over her ass. “Show me what’s mine,” he growled.

  Rain lay there panting, her cheek pressed against the sofa cushion. She reached behind her with both hands, knowing better than to hide her most sacred treasure from him. To deny him would bring fierce discipline and pain in the form of a hard, stinging slap to her ass. The prospect of such retribution left her horribly tempted to hesitate and bring on his delicious wrath. Fingers splayed, she arched her back, gripped her ass cheeks, and pulled them apart.

  He drew in a ragged breath and pulled his cock from his tailored trousers. When he palmed his shaft, it was hard as bone. He drew his bottom lip between his teeth and clenched his jaw as he took in the tempting sight of the glistening petals of her sex spread open and her puckered rosette pulled taut.

  He bent over her, clasped her shoulders, and slammed his cock deep and true, moving inexorably forward until he was balls deep inside her pussy. His cock boasted considerable girth, which could be a source of pleasure or pain at his whim. She usually preferred the former rather than the latter, having experienced both in the past. He took what he needed, savoring each ripple of pleasure, enjoying each pounding thrust into her body. The simple delight of being inside her filled him with an almost primal masculine satisfaction that made him want to howl at the fucking moon.

  Her fingers gripped the arm of the loveseat, her nails digging in as if they would tear into the expensive fabric. She could feel his cock pulsing within her tight channel as he found his release.

  She was in such a love-drunk stupor that she didn’t notice when he carried her to the bed. She didn’t realize that he’d left the room until he returned with a warm washcloth and tenderly cleaned her up. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close like the precious treasure she was. She buried her face in the nape of his neck, breathing in his delicious scent.