The Haunted (Sleeping with Monsters Book 1) (12 page)

“I
don’t like it when you’re rude to company.”

“Oh
really?” a voice behind her asked. She jumped and whirled. Jason stood there,
arms crossed in the doorway.

“Good
enough to put my cock in you, but not enough to be introduced?” he said as he
advanced, shaking his head.

“Shhhh
–“

He
sliced the air between them with one hand. “This – whatever it was – it’s
through.”

“Please,
no –“

“I
thought you were different –“

“I
am. I was just startled. This is the first time I’ve done anything like this. I
don’t know how to be – and Richard’s home. He came back last night, without
telling me.”

The
cloud over Jason’s face lessened as she spoke, giving her the nerve to come
near.

“I
can’t let anything on,” she moved to touch his arm, remembering the way it felt
around her in the workshop, how strong it had been. “But I’m sorry for
embarrassing you. I’m not like the others. I swear.”

Jason
inhaled and exhaled deeply, blowing air through his nose like a winded horse.
“I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to be treated like that again.”

“I
wouldn’t.” She wanted to touch his face with her other hand, run it up through
his hair, and pull his mouth down to hers. Being so near to him – with Richard
here, it was dangerous. But at the thought of Richard’s withholding smile this
morning – she rocked up onto her toes and kissed him.

He
stiffened in surprise, and then he pulled her to him and kissed her
voraciously. They both knew it was an awful idea, which was why they kept going
– inside the house the threat of being caught, made every touch burn twice as
hot.

Jason
put his hands around her waist and picked her up, carrying her across the
library towards the massive desk at the far end, under the Master’s watchful
gaze.
He had to understand, he had to
– Daphne closed her eyes as he lay
her down behind the desk and let her body do all the thinking.

Her
hands reached for his belt, tugging his pants down, as he shoved her skirt up.
She felt like she was proving herself to him, that she wasn’t like all those
other women who were embarrassed to be seen with him, who never let him inside
their fancy homes. She wanted him under this roof – and inside of her.

As
he entered her it was hard not to moan. But both of them were being utterly
quiet now, the only sound that of him mounting her, the soft slide of his cock
into her pussy and the light pounding where their flesh met.

One
of his hands behind her head cradled it from the hardwood, the other held
himself up over her, arm flexed. She looked up, winding her hands in his shirt,
sweat dripping down onto her as he sped up. His face was serious, dark, and she
realized that he didn’t care if she came, this was about him taking his own
pleasure from her, conquering her underneath her husband’s nose, which
perversely made everything hotter, and she started to rock her hips in time
with his, his eagerness urging her on to please him, to help him fuck her until
he lost himself in her again.

“Please
please please,” she whispered, and he curled down, breath hot in her ear.

“Shhhhhhhh,”
he warned, and she could feel his cock stiffening, ready to shoot his load.

“Daphne!”
Richard’s voice boomed from the second floor. “Dappppphnnnneeee….”

Jason’s
fingers curled into her hair, pulling her head back.

“I’ll
be right there!” she somehow yelled back up to her husband in a normal voice.

Jason’s
thrusts became erratic and she knew he was close – as close as she was to
getting caught and then – he growled in her ear, fucking her into the floor, so
hard it hurt. She bit her lips to stop from whimpering and felt her pussy quiver
around him, wanting more as he gasped aloud, rough and harsh in her ear, his
cum spilling out inside of her, just as she was so close to coming herself –

“Daphne!”
Richard shouted, now from somewhere on the first floor – and Daphne hit Jason’s
shoulder in frustration. He rose up and pulled out, reaching down to hide his
flaccid cock back in his jeans.

“When
does he go again?” he asked her, breathing hard.

“There’s
a dinner party this weekend. Next week, maybe?” Daphne said, rising to kneel,
pulling her underwear back up and pushing her skirt down, feeling his hot cum
spill between her thighs.

“Good.”
Jason said, as she stood.

“Hide
here until I come back –“

He
nodded, and tucked himself under the desk.

“There
you are, pet!” Richard said, coming into the library. He was in his robe,
again.

“Yes,
dear?” Daphne said, and smoothed a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry – I was
taking a nap –“ she pointed towards the couch.

“You
were tired?”

“Just
all of a sudden, yes.”

“Do
you think….” he said, eyeing her belly.

“I
don’t know. Yet.” She gave him a coy smile and prayed he wouldn’t cross the
room to her.

“I
was thinking about taking a break myself. After last night in particular –“ one
of his eyebrows rose, and ran a suggestive hand down the front of his robe.

It
was her – and Jason’s – easiest way out.

And
– heaven help her – her body was still hungry.

“Race
you to the bedroom –“ she said, and turned, running down the library’s back
hall.

She
only beat him to the bedroom because he wanted her to win – all the better for
her purposes. The second he got in the door she flung herself at him, shedding
clothing, hoping that the remaining scent of Jason would fall away with them.
And when they fell to the bed together, kissing, he whispered, “You’re so wet
again,” without suspicion.

Daphne
came twice for Richard. The first time was Jason’s really, the orgasm he’d stoked
inside her still lay in wait like a coiled snake, only waiting for the chance
to strike. Four strokes in, and her clit rubbing against Richard’s stomach and
she was thrashing in the bed for him, making him feel masterful over her. He
stayed still, relishing the feeling of her pussy milking his cock, and then he
took his time, believing himself to have already conquered. It made him more
patient than usual, thinking that he’d turned her that on, taking all of the
pressure off of him.

Instead
he wanted to enjoy himself in her. He sped up and slowed down, kissed her
nipples, and rose up between her legs to stroke his thumb at her clit. She
didn’t want to come again for him, yet he rode her with such easy familiarity
and she let herself be ridden – her hips twitched without thinking and the
muscles of her belly tightened. And when he realized her second time was near
he was like a child unable to stop himself from putting his hand into a flame,
he was intent on drawing it from her, he wouldn’t stop until he had.

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?