The Haunted (Sleeping with Monsters Book 1) (15 page)

BOOK: The Haunted (Sleeping with Monsters Book 1)
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Chapter Twenty-three

She
looked surprised to see them – as surprised as Daphne was to see her.

“Richard?”
she said.

“Becca?”
His hand fell away from Daphne’s. “What are you doing here?”

“You
invited me!” Her eyes flickered over Daphne again. “What is
she
doing
here? You said she would be gone.”

Richard
looked horrified. “I said no such thing!”

Despite
the fact that Daphne knew precisely who Becca was, she couldn’t help but ask –
“Who is she?”

Richard
looked between the women. She could see his mind whirling, trying to come up
with an acceptable explanation, one that would work for the both of them.

He
wound up falling to his knees, facing her. “Pet – she’s from my past. I
promised you last night --”

“From
your past? I spent two thousand dollars trying to get here overnight!”

“Why
the hell would you do that?”

“You
told me to!” Becca protested.

“We’re
going,” Daphne said, dragging Richard out.

“You
can’t just leave me here, Richard –“ Becca said.

“Arthur
will take care of her, if we tell him.” But would the Master?

Richard
stood between the two women, clearly torn. “We can’t just abandon her like
that.”

“Oh,
so it’s fine to abandon me for her, but not the other way around?”

Richard’s
eyes squinted. “Did you know about her?” He sounded offended.

“Don’t
you dare try to make this about me!” Daphne said. “You’re the one that brought
her into our life! I heard you on the phone with her once, Richard. And one
night I tried to get you to roll over and you whispered out
Becca
,”
Daphne said in imitation of him.

Behind
Richard, she could see Becca’s face flush with excitement. She’d inadvertently
let the woman know she had a place in Richard’s life – in his own goddamned bed.

Becca
grabbed hold of Richard’s wrist and pulled him back while stepping forward.
“He’s not yours anymore. He said so. He’s mine.”

Becca
shook herself off and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to position
herself as the more attractive option. She was pretty, disappointingly so, and
even younger than Daphne was. With her hair tousled, her chest heaving with
anger, it was so easy to see what Richard loved in her.

“Can
we just have a few moments to discuss this privately?” Richard asked Daphne,
looking between her and Becca again.

“No.”

Richard
inhaled to protest, but withered under Daphne’s gaze. He leaned down to whisper
in her ear. “If you let me talk to her alone, I can give the girl some dignity.
It’ll be easier on us both.”

Daphne
shook her head. “No.” Richard was her talisman. If she was with him, the Master
couldn’t harass her. “Anything you have to say to her, you can say in front of
me.”

Becca
made an indignant noise for attention. “Look, someone invited me here,” Becca
said, her voice chilly. “I don’t think Richard’s that foolish.”

“Apparently
you’ve never met my husband,” Daphne said, voice just as cold.

Becca
took a bold step forward. “If it wasn’t him, it was you. What kind of pervert
leads someone else on over chat like that?”

“What?”

Richard
turned on Daphne, eyes-wide. “Daphne --”

“Don’t
you dare –“ she shouted at him.

“I
didn’t tell her to come here –“

“I
didn’t either!”

“But
that’s how come you wanted to leave today –“ Richard looked around the hall at
the things she’d packed. “You wanted us to go before she got here –“

“That’s
not what happened!”

“Then
tell us what happened,” Becca demanded.

Daphne
whirled on the other woman. “You don’t get to order me!”

“Let’s
be rational –“ Richard said, as if he’d been being so all this time. “It’s okay
if you told her to come. You were angry, and you wanted her to waste a lot of
money, that seems fair –“

“But
that’s –“ Daphne began.

“I
broke up with George for you,” Becca said, louder than Daphne’s protest.

Richard
stilled, and Daphne could almost physically feel herself losing him, again –

“Richard
–“ she moved to block Becca from his sight, to run her hands up his chest and
pull his head down to look at her and only her. “Stay with me. We need to go.”

“Good
luck leaving,” Becca said from behind her. “I had to pay a taxi driver six
hundred dollars, cash, to drive me over from the regional airport. He only knew
which roads weren’t flooded because he’d lived here as a child.”

“If
there’s one, there’s others –“

Richard
shook his head gravely. “I don’t have six hundred dollars on me, pet. It can’t
rain forever –“

“But
we can’t stay here!”

“Why
not?” Becca said, and Daphne could hear the hint of triumph in her tone. “This
place seems amazing to me.”

And
then the power went out.

 

Chapter Twenty-four

The
library was the only place furnished enough to hold the three of them comfortably,
with enough windows to let whatever light passed through the storm clouds in.
Richard stoked a fresh fire in the fireplace. Arthur or Mrs. Dudley had made a
bold effort trying to get Glenn’s blood out of the floor this morning, but
hadn’t entirely succeeded.

Daphne
and Becca sat down on opposite ends of the couch, watching Richard stack logs
in the fire. When he stood, they both looked at him expectantly, and he
frowned. “I need to be alone for a bit.”

“No
–“ Daphne protested – none of them should be alone here, in the half-dark, it
wasn’t safe –

“I
just need some space to think.” He sliced his hand through the air to cut her
off, and stalked down the back hall.

Which
left Daphne on the couch with Becca.

Becca
stared pensively out the window at the falling rain. Five minutes passed in
silence, and then she stood. “I’m going to go look around.”

“No,”
Daphne said again, her voice more stern. “I don’t want you alone in my house.”
It wasn’t safe for her to be alone, not when the Master was still here --

“What,
you’re scared I’ll steal things?” Becca glanced up at the Master’s portrait.
“You think I’ll take that out under my coat?”

“It’s
a big house in the dark. You could get lost.”

Becca’s
eyes narrowed, cat-like. “You really think I’d run from room to room until I
found Richard and, I don’t know, started blowing him?”

Daphne
hadn’t considered that until this precise moment, but it seemed all too likely
now. “Just like in Paris. Just like in Rome.”

Becca’s
eyes went wide and she flushed. “What – wait – that
was
you!”

Daphne
clenched her hands into fists at having outed herself. “Just the one time –
that was the only time, I swear it – I sure as hell didn’t tell you to come
here --“

Becca’s
sat back down on the couch and turned towards Daphne. “But the things you said
you wanted to do to me –“

“That
wasn’t me –“ Daphne said, scooting back.

“Those
were why I came out here. Not Paris or Rome. I thought I was seeing Richard’s
true heart --“

Daphne
put her elbows on her knees and her head between her hands. Becca was in love
with the Master, who she thought was Daphne pretending to be Richard, oh God –

Becca
put a hand on Daphne’s back. Startled, Daphne looked up, and found Becca’s face
hovering close – she had just enough time to close her eyes before Becca kissed
her.

Daphne
jumped back like she’d been shocked, and then sat stock still. Becca’s eyes
watched her, and she put a hand on her knee, and then leaned in again.

Should
I run? Why aren’t I running?
she thought. But Becca’s lips touched hers and
it was too late to run all over again.

If
she was kissing her, she wouldn’t leave, would she? And together they’d both be
safe? Yes, that, that could be the reason for this, so that she didn’t have to
admit to maybe liking it. Daphne opened her lips, and began to kiss Becca back.
Her lips were so soft, and her tongue was so gentle, it was like Daphne was
kissing a flower. She turned her head so that they could kiss harder, deeper,
and Becca made a little noise of satisfaction, before bringing her hand to rest
on Daphne’s breast. Daphne’s breath caught at this, and she felt her nipples
rise and she sidled closer so that her knee and thigh brushed up against
Becca’s and her own hands rose to reach for her waist where Becca’s raincoat
was tied.

Together
they were nearing a hairpin turn, and someone would have to take the wheel and
yank it if either of them were going to stop in time, before they rounded the
bend together and everything was too late – Becca’s tongue sought more of hers
out, her lips becoming needy, pulling at Daphne’s harder as Daphne’s hands
deliberately untied the coat.

Fabric
fell open, and inside? Soft skin. Absolutely no clothing. Daphne pulled back in
surprise, as Becca’s hands began to tug her shirt up. Of course, Becca’d done
it for Richard – but Daphne got to be the one who took advantage of it. She
started touching the other woman as Becca got her shirt free and sent her hands
roaming up beneath and lips touched lips again as legs pressed against legs.

Soon
they were falling backwards, and Daphne’s shirt and bra were off, breasts
exposed to Becca’s mouth as she stroked her fingers against the other woman’s
breasts, pinching at her nipples.

“Tell
me that you want me.”

“Hmmm?”
Daphne’s voice was soft, entranced by the creature she was touching and all the
delicious touches she was getting in return.

“Like
you did online.”

Her
mouth closed and her teeth grit. She’d read the chat logs, she knew exactly
what the Master had said – and Becca’s hands were going lower now, pushing up
beneath her skirt --

Daphne
grabbed a hank of Becca’s hair near her scalp, twisting the woman’s head to the
side. “I want you,” she said in a low voice, spreading her legs open in
invitation. With her other hand she grabbed Becca’s tentative one and pulled
her higher, forcing her to feel the wetness staining the cotton between her
thighs. “See?” she said, more her own voice, less channeling the Master.

Becca’s
face lit up – and she pulled Daphne’s underwear down and off as quickly as she
could, then returned to hover over her again, her raincoat covering both of
them, to watch Daphne’s face as she slid two fingers in.

Daphne
gasped and writhed. It was wrong, there should be no room for Becca inside her
life, muchless between her legs, but – as the other woman started to move her
fingers in and out and pull inside her with her hand – it felt too good to
stop.

She
reached up and pulled Becca’s mouth to hers again, kissing the other woman
deep, her wet hair falling down around them both like a curtain. She kissed her
as hard as she wanted Becca’s hand to fuck her, as good as it felt to be
fucked, and she tilted her hips up so that Becca could reach even deeper
inside. She began to moan, and her own hands left Becca’s breasts to drift down
to where Becca’s pussy waited, brushing through the small thatch of dark hair
to run her fingers against the other woman’s folds. Becca’s skin down there was
as soft as her lips, all the moreso because she was as wet as Daphne, and
Daphne felt them curiously, tugging Becca’s labia gently.

“Go
on. Do it,” Becca whispered, her voice hoarse. Daphne slid one finger in to
Becca’s warm heat, and felt the delicious softness continue, even up inside.
Becca shivered, her own hand in Daphne stopping, as Daphne pushed another
finger inside of her and began to touch the smoothness that she found there.

It
was magical to touch inside another woman, to share her most intimate space.
Daphne found herself ignoring the sensations of Becca inside of her, and
concentrated on this, the yielding velvet that moved whenever Daphne pressed –
and wherever Daphne pressed, Becca moaned, which made everything even more
delightful. Soon the other woman pulled her own fingers out and balanced on all
fours above Daphne, arching her hips back into Daphne’s hand, while Daphne
tried to touch more of her, inside and out. Her lips kissed at Becca’s neck and
her free hand lifted the weight of one of her hanging breasts, and always,
always, she was moving her fingers inside, shaking her hand, sensing all of the
ways she pleased Becca as the woman’s eyes glazed over and her breath became an
endless series of moans.

She
felt the velvet of Becca’s pussy tighten and redoubled her efforts to reach
more, press more, shake more, and then Becca threw her head back and shouted,
going still before quaking bodily, making Daphne fight to follow her orgasm as
she came, her hips twitching of their own accord, wetness spilling out of her
like she was a fountain, dripping down Daphne’s hand and forearm.

“Oh
God, oh God, oh God,” Becca breathed, collapsing down onto Daphne’s chest,
still shuddering – revealing Richard standing not six feet away, in his robe
again, standing over them, watching them with glittering eyes, a cigar in one
hand, a snifter of brandy in the other.

“How
long have you been there?” Daphne said, trying to get her elbows underneath
her.

Becca
looked over her shoulder to see him, and then returned her attention to Daphne,
moving back to all fours to crouch over her again. “Let him watch.”

Before
Daphne could protest, Becca’s fingers were sliding back inside and the other
woman’s mouth was on her breast. She didn’t want to come, not by Becca’s hand
in front of Richard like this, but her body needed this, it wanted it, and the
monster the Master had made of her craved it – Becca started pulling her nipple
in and sucking on it while below her fingers alternated between fucking her and
rubbing on her clit, And her voice rose like she wasn’t in control of
it, an otherworldly cry, louder than the sound of the thunder and the rain –
Becca wasn’t going to stop until she’d pulled an orgasm out of her and Daphne
had one waiting, close, so close – Daphne shouted incoherently, up on her toes,
the muscles of her pelvis taut, trying to pull Becca further in.

Becca’s
last movement – fingers, thumb, tongue – released her. Daphne curved up, body
in turns rigid and loose, as the orgasm flowed through her like a wave of the
thunder that echoed outdoors.

Richard
sat down on the head of the broad couch, and pet her hair, as she gasped for
breath. Why was she so easy to own whenever, wherever, sex was concerned?

“And
that’s why people want to fuck you, pet,” he whispered, almost to himself.

 

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