by Linda Wright
“Perfect.” Estelle smiled. She collected her small purse, a wrap and a pair of deck shoes, then scampered down the stairs until she reached the gang plank, which had been raised once again, to deter curious intruders. Her weight caused it to sink toward the dock. By the time she’d reached the end, the plank had touched down, allowing her to alight with dignity. Shielding her eyes against the sun, she trotted along the gently rising dock, heading for the security gates. Behind her, the plank rose into the air, ensuring Vane would be undisturbed in his darkened lounge.
The crew of Gull’s Tones waved as she passed. She smiled broadly as they relaxed on their deck, sipping cocktails. If the four of them had ever wondered about the small scars on their wrists, they’d never mentioned them to her. She grinned at the memory of their night together. Four mortals, all hers. Of course, she’d had to take Burns along. The clumsy oaf had almost spoiled everything with his heavy-handed ways. He’d probably ruined both of the women too, with his over-large manhood.
Amari’s friend and colleague watched her approach. No doubt he’d seen her alight from Demeter, and was eager for news.
“Hey!” he called.
“Hey, yourself,” she replied with a smile. She stepped up to the security gate, which would be activated by a chip-key in her purse—once it was close enough.
“Can you let me in? Please?” He pushed at the turnstile, which was locked solid against unauthorized entry. Unlike a regular gate, he would not be able to push past her when she opened it. Rather, he’d need to step back as it spun to let her exit. For the moment, she stayed on the inside.
“Sorry. It’s against the rules.” She pointed to a lengthy billboard which listed the marina regulations in exquisite detail.
“You’re from the ship on the end, right?”
“I am, yes.”
“Did you see my colleague? Doctor Amari Ratchek?”
“She came aboard about fifteen minutes ago. She’s engaging with my ma… I mean, the captain.”
“Do you know how long she’s likely to be?”
“I couldn’t really guess. Why?” She dropped a hip. “Are you worried?” His eyes roamed down her bikini-clad body. The sheer wrap around her shoulders concealed very little.
“I am, yes. I need to know if she’s okay.”
“I tell you what.” Estelle pulled a cell phone from her purse. “If you let me through, I’ll call the ma… the captain and tell him you’re out here. He might see fit to invite you aboard as well.” She glanced left and right, then lowered her voice. “I’m just a flunkey. I don’t have the authority.”
“Okay,” Paul sighed. “I guess that’ll have to do.” He craned his neck, proving he’d far rather be on board Demeter than stand helplessly at the dock side.
“Coming through.” Estelle raised a hand and snapped her fingers, at the same time subtly waving her purse near the sensor. The turnstile clicked and she pushed through. Paul moved back, but the moment she was past him, he grabbed the rotating steel and tried to reverse its spin.
It jammed, refusing him entry.
“Damn it…” he muttered. His gaze studied her hands, alert for any sign of the key. Estelle was sure he wasn’t the kind of man to wrestle her property from her grasp. But just let him try, she thought. He’d quickly discover how strong she was. A hundred years spent sipping sexually-charged human blood had granted her supernatural speed and strength.
“Is there somewhere we can sit?” she asked, fanning herself unnecessarily. “I could use a cold one.”
“There’s a cafe, but the prices are ridiculously high.” Paul pointed to the tables where he and Amari had waited for the Gull’s Tones crew.
“Perfect. Since we’ve inconvenienced you, it’ll be my treat.”
“Uh… If you’re sure.” He glanced back at the dock. His impatience was transparent. She needed to calm him, or spend the next hour lying to him about her intentions. Her hand dipped into her purse, slipping a small ring onto her little finger.
“Of course I’m sure.” She reached for his upper arm.
“But you’ll definitely call—OW!” He stepped back, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“I’m so sorry.” She curled her fingers and held up her thumb. “I must have a sharp nail.” She dipped into her purse and slipped off the ring. A moment later, her hand emerged, holding a file. Estelle made a show of attending to the errant nail as Paul swayed before her. When his eyes started to roll, she guided him to the cafe and settled him into a chair. One of the staff looked up, curious. Estelle raised two fingers, then shook a length of her dark hair. Her request for two black coffees received an immediate thumbs-up.
“Now, my concerned friend, please hand me your wallet.”
Paul frowned and blinked, as his body obeyed, albeit sluggishly. She flipped open the wallet and absorbed the details.
“Don’t worry… Paul Siddig,” Estelle smiled. “I’m not robbing you. Here.” She returned the wallet, which Paul shoved back into his pocket.
“Who are you, lady?” he asked as he blinked hard, struggling to focus. Estelle hoped she’d judged the dose correctly. If Paul passed out, she’d still be able to carry him, although it would look very strange to mortal eyes. He was almost twice her size. She patted his hand. His instinctive reaction was to withdraw, but she held his wrist firmly.
“I’m here to show you around, and make sure you don’t get into all kinds of trouble.”
“Whassaname?” he asked.
“Estelle.” She peered into his eyes, which were rolling. Too much neurotoxin, she guessed. Not good.
“Nice to meet you… Esther.”
“Estelle.”
“Yes, thatsss whaddya said.”
“Let me get you a coffee, Paul. Then we can talk.” She glanced around, but no-one was paying any attention. “Isn’t it a beautiful day?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah, they’re lovely.” He grinned hugely as his eyes dropped to admire her breasts. She smiled and shook her head. Definitely too much neurotoxin. She’d need to speak to Vane later. In the meantime, she ought to take advantage of his distraction.
“Do you like them?” She shifted her shoulders, moving her chest from side to side. His eyes followed obediently.
“Mm-hmm.”
“So why don’t we go somewhere and play?”
Paul dropped his chin onto his palm. “I’d like that.”
“Do you have a car?”
“Do I have a car?” he repeated, rolling his eyes. “Only a supercharged vee-eight.”
“I’d love to see it. Maybe you’d let me drive?”
He wagged a finger. “No can do, Esther.”
“Not even…” She slipped off a deck shoe and stroked his crotch with her toes. “If you’re on a promise for later?”
He made a face, rocking his head as he considered the idea. “Well… maybe. If you’re nice to me.”
She leaned closer. “Paul Siddig, I’m going to make all your dreams come true.”
~
They drank the coffee, which made Paul a little more lucid, although no less obedient, and headed away from the marina. His glee when the Jaguar came into sight was endearing, she thought. It was like seeing a small boy with his first bicycle. Before he could react, she snatched the keys from his grasp and headed for the driver’s seat.
“Aw…” He actually pouted.
“Don’t worry, lover boy. You can drive later.” When she dropped into the seat, she wondered if she’d bitten off too much. The Jaguar was a stick shift. It had been five years since she’d driven a car. Okay, then, it was time to cheat. She beckoned Paul closer, then kissed him, opening her mouth so his tongue could explore. He sighed happily as their lips mashed together. She smiled, because with the kiss, came his memories.
Emotional anguish over Amari’s disappearance hit her first. She pushed it to one side. There would be plenty of time to explore his mind later. Right now, she needed a driving lesson. Her mind sifted through his as they kissed. Such a use
ful tool, Vane had assured her a hundred years ago. Until now, she’d mainly used the gift to erase memories, only occasionally unearthing valuable information for her master. Now, it was proving useful once again.
She broke the kiss and stabbed the starter button with her finger. The vee-eight exploded into life, roaring like a jungle cat. Paul’s enthusiasm warmed her mind. She grinned and gripped the steering wheel.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Sure.”
She hit the gas, and they were slammed back into their seats as the supercharged engine hurled them forward.
~
Paul’s apartment was only twenty minutes away. She’d memorized his address from his driver’s license, and remembered how it looked when she’d sifted his memory. His parking space was vacant, with his Morgan still parked up at the car rental place. She couldn’t believe it was still possible to buy a Morgan.
“Nice car.” She patted the wheel. “We might have to go for a drive later.”
“Yes, Esther.”
“I already told you, lover boy, it’s Estelle. Come on.”
They walked hand in hand to Paul’s apartment, where he unlocked the door and waited for her to enter. The place was stark and sparsely-furnished, lacking feminine touches in every room. An extensive sound system and over-large flat screen filled one wall of the living room.
“Not a single plant,” she said to herself. “Paul Siddig, heed me.”
“Yes, Esther?”
“You must do something about this place.”
“Do something?”
“Go buy some leafy plants, some cushions, and a rug. Hell, a few pictures wouldn’t go amiss.”
“Now, Esther?”
“No, not now. I have much more interesting things planned for now, you dope.” She turned and threw her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his. Grinning, he grabbed her buttocks with his big hands and lifted her from the floor. Her legs immediately wrapped around his waist. Without preamble, he carried her toward the bedroom, lifting her small frame easily, although he was blissfully unaware of her supernatural strength. Estelle was lowered to the bed and onto her back without the pair ever breaking the kiss. When she examined his mind, she saw he was wildly enthusiastic about having her here, to her relief. If she’d overdosed him on the neurotoxins, he would have remained an obedient automaton, functional, but lifeless.
“Ravish me, Paul.”
“Yes, Estelle.”
“At last, you got my name right!” She grinned as he eased the wrap from her shoulders. His kisses peppered her neck and shoulders as his big hands slid down her waist. She lay back, stretching her arms over her head as he admired her body. His mouth moved across her chest, then down her stomach, and over her hip. She stroked his hair as he moved from one hip to the other, then she laughed as he rolled her over, nipping her buttocks with his teeth.
She murmured quietly as his lips moved up her spine, kissing every inch of her until he arrived back at her neck again. Estelle pulled her hair to one side so he could nuzzle her ears and kiss the lobes, something she enjoyed a great deal. Her bikini top was untied, and drawn to one side and leaving her topless. His large frame pressed her against the mattress, warming her back as he ground his hips against her buttocks. His erection was hot and prominent and she smiled as she imagined taking hold of it.
Paul rolled her over, and lowered his head to her neck. She wondered if he had made love to Amari in the same way. Curious, she shifted her head and kissed him deeply, sifting through his memories with no shame. He had made love to many women, latterly his ex-wife, with whom he’d shared the apartment. But she’d decided one day that her interests lay elsewhere, and had booked a removals truck, taking everything she could squeeze inside it. Little wonder the place was sparsely furnished.
“Oh, you poor man.” She pressed his head to her breasts. He engulfed her nipples enthusiastically, licking and sucking until she groaned with happiness. “Imagine giving up this much fun. She must have been crazy.”
“Mm-hmm,” Paul mumbled. His large hands kneaded and squeezed her, sending heat through her chest.
“Maybe I’ll keep you for myself.” She toyed with his hair as he glanced up at her, docile as a Labrador. His lips were curled around her nipple, sucking her breast upward as his tongue circled her hard nipple. A long groan escaped her throat. She lay back and endured several minutes of nipple-play, writing beneath Paul’s expert touch. Her loins grew increasingly hot until she reached the point where she could no longer stand him being dressed.
“Paul, I want you to undress. And when you’re done, strip me naked as well. You and I are going to have some old-fashioned National Geographic fun.” She rolled onto her front and cupped her chin in her palms to watch as Paul removed his shirt, then his pants, and finally his underwear. His erection was impressive. Uncut and perhaps eight and a bit inches long, it was already sticky with pre-cum. Estelle’s mouth watered. But her last command hadn’t been forgotten. Paul knelt beside her hips and unfastened the bikini ties, peeling away the while material to expose her buttocks. Cool air reached her overheating femininity, offering a brief respite.
“Use your fingers on me, Paul. Use them inside me as well, if you like. Ohhh…” The moment he touched her slippery lips, she melted. “Oh, wow.”
With thumb and forefinger, he gently pinched her clit, sliding his fingers through her lips over and over to meet at the swollen little button. Despite Vane’s age, and his wealth of experience with women, his touch had never thrilled her in quite the same way as Paul’s. She couldn’t put her finger on it—although Paul clearly could—but this relatively young mortal had a natural feel for women’s needs.
“Ngh… oh boy…” She groaned as he pushed a finger into her slippery passage. A second finger joined the first almost immediately, and Estelle writhed and groaned on the bed, rendered speechless by this skillful lover.
“Uh… uh… uh…” His sliding fingers drove wails of pleasure from her throat. Her hands sought something to hang onto—anything. Only the bed covers were within reach. She clung to them, her nose and eyes on the edge of the mattress as large fingers stretched her open, and pushed deep inside her. The fingers curled inside her; his knuckles bumped against her as he stroked, sending unbearable tingles through her pelvis.
“Oh… my… god…” she wailed. “What… are… you… doing? No! Don’t stop!”
“Of course, Estelle.” Paul redoubled his efforts, finger-fucking her until she cried out and shuddered hard. Her fingers curled tighter and tighter, until they tore open the mattress, shredding the material of the bed covers.
“Fucking hell!” she screamed. “Fuck… fuck…fuck!”
“Yes, Estelle.” Paul withdrew his fingers and climbed on top of her. Her eyes widened as he persuaded her legs apart. His erection nudged her buttocks, moving down, sliding across slippery skin.
“Hey, wait! Not yet!”
“Not yet?” he asked.
“No… not yet.” Her chest was still heaving. “When I said fuck… I didn’t mean… not right away.”
“Of course. I apologize.”
“It’s okay…” she managed. “It’s okay. Let me get my breath back first.”
“Yes, Estelle.”
“Just… lie along my back for a minute. Let me enjoy your weight on me. Mmm… that’s perfect.” Paul’s arms stretched out to lie alongside Estelle’s. His fingers meshed with hers and she enjoyed a blissful minute of relaxation as her heart slowed to normal. Supernatural being or not, she still loved a good session of sex. Her senses were heightened, her responses keener. And her hunger for physical pleasure grew with every year. A hundred sixteen years ago, she hadn’t been so rampant. Her shyness intrigued Vane, he’d said. Her reluctance to undress in his presence had stoked his lust more than any readily-obedient mortal. And once they’d begun making love, her cries for his attention had kept him hard long after he’d spilled his seed into her. When she’d pursued Demeter across the sea
and turned up as Vane docked, he’d smiled at her undaunted enthusiasm, and thrilled at a second chance to take her into his bed.
“Make love to me, Paul,” she murmured.
“Yes, Estelle.” She smiled as his weight shifted. Once again, he climbed between her legs, nudging her knees further apart to allow his big frame between them. Her mouth fell open as hard masculine flesh stroked her slippery folds, seeking entry. Heat washed through her as his cock-head found her entrance.
“Take me, Paul. Slide into me. Slide deep. Ohhh…”
Once again his weight descended onto her back, pressing down on her buttocks. She used the mattress to muffle her cries as he slid inside, moving along her sensitive passage until his body pressed against her. She wriggled her hips from side to side, and he slid deeper yet.
“Fuck…” she groaned, then remembered his unquestioning obedience. “But slowly, gently.”
“Yes, Estelle.”
“Call me sweetheart,” she begged. “Or darling, or lover, or honeyyy… Ohhh…”
“Yes, darling.” His movements were slow, but thorough. His strokes were long and deep. She clung to the ruined mattress as his cock slid into her super-sensitive flesh.
“Fuuuck…” she groaned. “Holy, fucking, shit.”
“Faster, darling?”
“A little… oh, yes. Faster, faster… Oh. My. God!”
Paul thrust into her at ever-increasing speed, his weight carrying him deeper with each stroke. Estelle’s mouth hung open as she wailed steadily. Her eyes were screwed shut, her hands tore more chunks out of the mattress.
“Harder... Harder… Oh… fuu… uuu…uuck!”
Paul hammered down hard, slamming his body against hers. The mattress protested beneath her, coughing out huge white clouds of filling. Estelle had never experienced anything as intense as this, even after a hundred years of shared sex with Vane. She liked it, she loved, it she wanted…
“More. More. More!” she wailed. “Give me fucking more!”
She got it. Paul laid himself along her body, using her as leverage, then fucked her like she’d never been fucked before. Her orgasm crushed her chest and tried to curl her into a tight ball of supernatural muscle, but Paul’s weight held her flat. Tears fled from her eyes and strings of saliva trailed from her wailing mouth. How was it possible, a small part of her mind wondered, for a mortal to make her feel this way? She needed to bring Paul before Vane, so his mortal prowess could be studied.