The Haunted (Sleeping with Monsters Book 1)

by Alexander, Cassie

  So when she shouted, “Oh God!” loud enough for anyone – anyone – still in the house to hear, Daphne couldn’t really feel like she’d betrayed anyone, it was more like he’d brought her body home.

  He purred to himself to see it, and then finished himself in her, his seed mixing with Jason’s inside, before rolling off of her and grinning at the ceiling.

  “I love you, pet,” he told her.

  “I love you, too,” she told him back.

  Daphne reassembled herself much more slowly than Richard did. Five minutes of snuggling then a shower, and he was gone, markets had opened somewhere in the world and he needed to be ready. She crawled out of their bed, knowing she ought to be ashamed of herself, for everything, but unable to mount a proper response. She showered, and made her way back down to the library. Jason wasn’t behind the desk anymore. Of course not – he’d probably left as soon as she had, once he’d realized what she’d gone off to do.

  She leaned against the desk and looked at the floor, felt the space he’d left inside of her, the wetness of his cum despite her recent rinsing, and then she looked up at the Master’s portrait, staring silently down.

  “What have you made of me?” she asked it.

  Nothing, she realized, that she hadn’t wanted to make herself.

  She pushed away from the desk and went back upstairs.

  She was reading a book in bed that evening when Richard finally arrived.

  “How was work?”

  “Hard.”

  “It’s hard to take that seriously when you’re wearing a robe.”

  “The sheets and the tests, should arrive tomorrow morning, and guests should start getting here around six tomorrow night.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Glenn, Roger, James, Tyler and their wives --.”

  “Why now? Why haven’t I met them before?”

  “You’re the one who wanted to elope,” Richard said, tweaking the end of her nose.

  Daphne bit her lips. She hadn’t wanted a wedding when she didn’t have any family to attend.

  “But they all want to meet you, and see our new house. Glenn wants to be a godfather to our baby.”

  “You’ve…told them?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “It’s private!”

  “How we make the baby is private. The rest of it most certainly is not. Soon you’ll waddle into town and strangers will be petting your belly.”

  “Ugh. I can imagine nothing worse.” She rolled over, burying her nose in her book. Richard sidled into bed behind her, and she expected him to take up his own book, like he did most nights that he was home – so she was surprised to feel his hand against her back.

  “Yes?” she twisted to look over her shoulder at him.

  “Shouldn’t we go again?”

  Daphne made a face at him. “We already did this afternoon – once a day should be enough, Richard.”

  “Technically,” he agreed. But he pushed the sheet down over the curves of her body and started pushing her tank top up. “But isn’t more often, better?”

  Daphne made a disagreeable sound. “Richard –“

  He brought his body in line with hers, shoulders to shoulders, knees to knees, hips to hips. She could feel the outline of his cock against the cleft of her ass. He leaned in and whispered, “Ever since we moved here, I just can’t get enough of you.” His hands sank to her waist and started pushing her underwear down.

  “Richard –“ she protested.

  “Pet –“ he said, rubbing himself against her closed thighs, his voice low. “You have to let me in, pet. I need to fuck you now.”

  A weight dropped between Daphne’s legs again and started rolling in time with the head of his cock. His hand reached over her, under her shirt, for her breast. “Pet – pet, I’ve got to fuck you.” He rolled her nipple between thumb and forefinger, giving it a tug.

  Without thinking, Daphne started to lift her leg to let him in. He took advantage of her weakness and leaned forward into her, pushing her onto her stomach as her legs began to spread. His cock probed between her thighs, once, twice, and then he found the right angle to catch himself into her.

  “Oh god,” he whispered, sliding himself home. “There’s something about this bedroom pet – seeing you lying on this bed – you’re irresistible to me.” He put a hand on either side of her shoulders to hold himself up as he started to thrust in and out of her. “I can’t rest until I’m buried – deep – inside – you,” he said, punctuating each word with a thrust. Daphne groaned, taking him in, reaching a hand between her legs to touch her clit.

  “You have no idea how good you feel,” he said. “I need you so much.”

  Richard hardly ever spoke during sex – which was too bad, because everything he said now was turning her on. Daphne started breathing in time with him, arching her hips up so that he could go deeper.

  “It’s been so long –“ he whispered, hoarse.

  “It’s only been a few hours, Richard –“ Daphne corrected him, closing her eyes, trying to let go and roll with the moment.

  “A few hours without this feels like a lifetime.” He was taking broad strokes into her now, deep, his whole body lying practically on top of hers, pinning her down. He made a frustrated growling sound and leaned back, pulling out, and yanked her to all fours. She yelped in surprise at being manhandled, and felt him push his way back inside her. “I’ve got to have this again,” he said, holding her hips still so that he could thrust wildly.

  “Richard!” she protested – more out of surprise than anger. Her husband wasn’t the passionate one, never said those sorts of things, and – a hand lifted up from her hip and slapped across her ass. “Richard!” This time she yelled for real.

  Daphne fell forward and squirmed away from her, glaring back at him over her shoulder. “What was that?”

  “What was what?” He was staring down at her, baffled, looking foolish on his knees with his straining cock.

  “You hit me.”

  “Did I?” Richard looked around the bed as if amazed to be there.

  “You did!”

  He looked at himself, mystified. “So?”

  “So – I don’t like it.” At least not from you. “And I’m already bruised. You saw that earlier.”

  He inhaled to defend himself, ready to bluster like usual, then deflated as his cock bobbed down. “So I did. Apologies.”

  “Let’s just go back to sleep, all right?” Daphne pulled her shirt down and her underwear back up. Richard nodded agreement, falling back onto his side of the bed. She lay down, facing away from him as she had been earlier.

  “I’m sorry, pet,” he said, patting her arm like you would comfort a distant cousin, not a wife.

  “It’s okay,” she said, even though it wasn’t.

  Richard was up before her in the morning again, chasing after another market.

  What had ever given him the idea to spank her? What on earth had made him think that that was going to be all right? Was it the sight of her ass already covered in bruises? Or – something different, something so frightening, she couldn’t possibly give it a name?

  He arrived in the dining room carrying boxes just as she finished her breakfast, and he seemed completely himself again.

  “Sheets for all the beds – or to be used as curtains. There’s more in the hall. I’d forgotten how big comforters were.”

  Daphne’s eyebrows rose. How many bedrooms did their house have? “Well, now I know what I’ll be doing all afternoon. Did…other things come?”

  He shook his head and gave her a sly smile. “Not yet. Odd shipping delay. Perhaps they’ll get here by this evening?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Regardless, no wine for you, just in case.” He leaned out and touched his finger to her nose. “I’ll have to go into town. I trust Arthur with the menu, but my friends have particular tastes in liquors. I might have to go a few towns over to get a respectful bar set up.”

 
Daphne nodded, watching his face closely. Did he seem different now? Had he changed? “Richard – about last night –“

  He made a face and shook his head. “Let’s just never mention it again.”

  “Fine.”

  “I’ve got another hour or two before I can take off.”

  “I’ll grab Arthur and start making the rounds with these, then.”

  “Thanks pet – you’re a gem.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek briefly, then set back off to his office upstairs.

  Daphne lugged a matching set of bedding to each bedroom, and all the assorted carved beds inside. She could feel the Master watching her – she couldn’t help but bend over, again and again, tucking in so many sheets.

  A hot hand pushed her in the third bedroom – the one furthest away from the office, on the far side, the one where he’d taken her ass.

  “Don’t. He’s here. It’s disrespectful.”

  Heat pushed her back against one of the bed’s posters, landed against her throat, started reaching up her thigh.

  “Did you do something to him last night?” She reached forward and could feel him in front of her, his lips at her collar bone, wrap her arm tentatively around his back. He was becoming more tangible by the minute. “Did you talk to him? Tell him what to do? Or –“

  The Master couldn’t talk to her – unless they used the computer. This afternoon, when Richard left –

  “Stop – I mean it.” She pushed the ghost away from her and felt the resistance of his body as she did so. Then she felt his presence leave the room and all that remained was a lingering sensation of heat.

  “I’m off, pet.” Richard found her shortly after lunch. “Hopefully I won’t have to go far, but –“ he jingled his car keys in his hand, indicating how far he might have to journey for decent booze.

  Daphne smeared a hand across her sweaty forehead. The house had been fine for her and Richard, but not fine enough for company – and Arthur really was too old to dust. “That’s fine. Take your time. Drive safely.”

  “Will do.” He leaned over and pecked her cheek again, before heading out the front door.

  Daphne listened to his car go and counted to sixty before going up the stairs to his office.

  She sat down in front of the computer and brought up a blank screen. “I know that you’re here,” she announced to the room. “It’s not like you have anything better to do.”

  Nothing happened. “Come on.” She bit her lips and sighed. “I need to know. Was last night Richard…or was it you? You can tell me. Just type it out.” She pointed at the keyboard.

  She waited for her techno-ouija board to work for a full minute, feeling increasingly foolish – and then a chat window opened up.

  You’re back! Where’ve you been?

  Becca. Again. Goddammit.

  Daphne forgot about the ghost and put her fingers on the keyboard. “Go away you awful whore.” She typed the words out, but didn’t hit return -- she’d realized she could scroll up.

  She spun the wheel on the mouse and hours after hours of chat logs appeared. These were all recent, in the past few days. Becca’s husband must be even more of a rube than she’d been.

  They were explicit, too. Descriptions of intimate acts – things Richard had never even done with her – Daphne sat there reading, stunned.

  How had he had this much emotion for someone else? Maybe it wasn’t the Master’s fault – maybe it was Becca that’d finally set him free.

  But if he was in love with Becca, why was he fucking her so hard? And why did he’d tell her he wanted a child?

  Daphne copied and pasted everything over into another file and emailed it to herself and then deleted it. More munition for their future divorce, if needbe.

  She scrolled back down to the end of the chat, where Becca had typed a few more sentences.

  Guess I missed you, baby. But I want to be with you forever, too. See you soon!

  Daphne turned the computer off with a frown.

  By the time Richard got back in the late afternoon, all the bedrooms were as done as they were going to be.

  “Pet, dear – help me carry things in.”

  Richard had not just bought liquor – he’d purchased an entire store. “How many people are you having over tonight?”

  “A few – enough – whoever shows up.” He started arranging bottles on the desk in the library, turning it into a make-shift bar. “They’re going to spend the night, so I had to buy extra. I don’t want anyone sobering up before they have to.”

  Daphne’s lips twisted at that, but they were his friends. He could deal with them. “I’ll get Arthur to bring a tray of glasses in here, and an ice bucket when it’s time.”

  “Good. See if he can bring the martini shaker too? Assuming the kitchen’s unpacked.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  If the desk weren’t so overly large, like all the other furniture in the house, there was no way it’d hold all the bottles Richard’d gotten, muchless the glassware. The Master’s portrait looked down, still unhappy, as Richard brought a bottle of brandy out of a bag.

  “Since when do you drink brandy?”

  Richard shrugged. “I don’t – but someone else might want some.”

  Daphne inhaled to ask if he’d buy a gold toilet too, using that same principle, but the sound of the phone ringing cut her off. Richard blanched.

  “I’ll get it –“ he said, practically running for the door.

  Becca. Daphne ground her teeth together – until Richard shouted from the other room. “It’s for you!”

  Daphne walked out, maintaining her composure, and took the proffered phone from Richard’s hand. “Hello?”

  “Daphne! It’s Beth – from the antique store?”

  “Of course!” She cupped her hand over the receiver to tell him, “It’s Beth, from yesterday.”

  Richard nodded, and went back to the library.

  “I’m sorry to give you such late notice, but I won’t be able to come tonight.”

  “Oh, that’s fine – it was late notice for us to even ask you.”

  “It’s just,” Beth started, and then laughed nervously at the far end, “I spoke to my aunt.”

  Daphne perked up. “Really? What did she say?”

  Beth sighed. “Well, she’s old, and remember her memory’s not what it used to be – but she said the girl who lived there had severe mental disorders, from even when she was a child. It made her see things, and talk to people who weren’t there. She did it all the time, my aunt heard her, said it was like she had an invisible best friend.”

  “Like kids do,” Daphne said, trying to explain things away.

  “Yes, but hers never went away. My aunt would hear her talking to herself when she walked outside her room, when she was a teenager. I mean, she was clearly crazy, which was why her folks kept her locked up there – but my aunt said the girl never wanted to leave the place, either. Between the therapy and the medications they put her on – they wound up having to keep her to herself most times. That’s why they hired tutors for her, they didn’t want her to leave the house and go out to school.

  “But then she started riding that horse, and going out to horse shows – my aunt said she really came out of her shell, and almost had a normal life. She was even finally talking about going off to college, when the horse spooked and threw her. It’s a shame, really. She was such a pretty thing, and so messed up inside her head.”

  “Wow.” Daphne bit her lips in thought. Had…the Master…no, he couldn’t have…could he?

  Beth sighed on the far end of the line. “My aunt said she’d only talk to me if I promised her one thing.”

  “What was that?”

  “To never to go into your house again.”

  “Oh come on,” Daphne said with a snort. “Why?”

  “Too many bad memories. She just doesn’t want me to go there.”

  “It’s not like she’ll know. I promise I won’t tell her.”

  Beth snort
ed. “It sounds crazy, I know. But I’m a woman of my word – and also I work on Saturday mornings.”

  Daphne nodded reluctantly, even though the other woman wouldn’t see it. “All right.”

  “I do still want to be your friend, Daphne. I hope this doesn’t mess that up – we get so few new people to talk to in town. I can’t wait to hear all about your party afterwards, at lunch sometime this week.”

  “Tuesday?” Daphne offered. By then all of Richard’s friends should be gone.

  “Tuesday,” Beth said, sounding relieved.

  Chapter Twenty

  Daphne went upstairs to shower and found Richard already standing inside, singing a song she didn’t know. She looked down at the tile, remembered kneeling there, feeling the Master’s cock at the back of her throat --

  “Care to join me?” Richard asked, peeking out from behind the curtain and then ducking back.

  “I’d only get you dirty.”

  “Do you think I’d mind?” he said. His voice – it was his but – “I could help you polish that bruise off of your ass. There’s a lot of soap in here.”

  No. It was all his. She hadn’t heard anything strange.

  “I’ll wait for my turn, thanks,” she said, slowly backing out of the bathroom.

  Daphne tried to look polished, but not too polished. She put on a spring dress, brightly colored, enough make-up to make her look older, but not harsh, and low heels that tapped the floor of every room she walked through, as though she were a prancing horse.

  Guests began arriving at six. All of them insisted on helping with their bags after seeing Arthur. They seemed nice enough, although flustered from their assorted journeys, and everyone immediately availed themselves of the bar.