The Haunted (Sleeping with Monsters Book 1) (16 page)

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

Becca
collapsed on top of her, their legs tangled, breasts to chests and arms, and
Daphne held her because she didn’t know what else to do. Richard continued to
pet her hair, in silent contemplation.

“We
still have to leave here.”

“Now
that all the cats are out of the bag – and have been fucking in my library –
why should we?”

Becca
chuckled, Daphne felt it even if she didn’t hear it.

“Because
it’s dangerous here. I can’t explain why, it just is. We need to start over,
somewhere else.”

“Pet,
the power flickered on long enough for me to check the internet. Becca’s right,
the roads are drenched, and the airport’s been shut down.” He stroked a thumb
along her forehead. “When the storm’s over -- tomorrow.” He lifted the snifter
up to his lips and took a sip. “Let’s give this place just one more day.”

What
next? How could she get them to leave now? She could hardly convince either of
them of there being a ghost now, not after she and Becca had fucked. She
inhaled to try again regardless, but Richard moved his hand to cover her mouth.
She let her mouth close and sagged back into the couch, as his fingers traced
lines over her face, following her cheekbones gently, the shells of her ears,
tugging on her earlobes, the line of her jaw, and then to brush his forefinger
against her lips, like he was putting lipstick on her. She was quiet under his
ministrations, relaxing – somehow, being in here with the two of them at least
felt safe – and then he pressed his finger into her mouth.

She
looked up, and saw him looking down, eyes glittering. He started fucking her
mouth with his finger – just like he was hoping she would soon blow him.

Sex
was safer than words were – and if they were together again, she still might be
able to convince him to go – he pushed his finger in and out and she sucked on
it, hard enough to make him go slower. He set the snifter down on the couch’s
wide arm, giving his full attention to her.

She
reached her hand that was around Becca back to touch his chest, and felt him
purr. Becca raised her head, looked at him, and then again at Daphne, as if for
permission. Daphne didn’t say yes…or no. And so Becca reached out and put her
hand on Richard’s thigh.

Richard
stilled at this, his finger deep in Daphne’s mouth. She knew what he was
thinking -- he didn’t want to get into trouble, but he could hardly not take
the chance to fuck both of them at the same time. Daphne bit his finger lightly
to break his thoughts, and he started to free himself, pulling it out and
pushing back.

“I’m
sorry –“ he apologized, even though this time, for possibly the first time in
his entire life, he had nothing to be sorry for.

“When
was the last time you saw her?” Daphne shifted to be out from underneath the
other woman.

“Four
months,” he answered quickly.

She
looked to Becca and the other woman nodded.

“You’ve
been without this that whole time?” Daphne asked, folding Richard’s robe back,
exposing his erection.

Becca
nodded, hesitantly. Daphne reached forward and caught her hand into Becca’s
hair again and the other woman sagged like a kitten caught by the nape.

Daphne
raised Becca up and moved her over, so that her mouth hovered above the head of
Richard’s cock.

Both
she and Richard were tense. Was Daphne rubbing their faces in things, like they
were bad dogs? Or was she going to set them free?

“I
want to watch you suck him.”

Becca’s
eyes darted at Daphne, not believing what she’d heard. But her mouth opened and
her head bobbed and she took Richard’s cock inside her mouth, and Richard made
a quiet strangled sound.

Daphne
watched him closely, as he closed his lips and looked tormented, not sure if he
should enjoy himself or not, unable to lose himself in the moment, while
Becca’s lips worked at him – not until Daphne reached over and untied his
robe’s belt and started kissing down. Then he finally allowed himself to gasp
and groan.

The
women worked on him together and apart.

 

Chapter Twenty-six

As
long as she had Richard’s cock, as long as he came inside of her – it didn’t
matter what else happened.

Richard
was on the ground now and Daphne was astride him, mirrored by Becca, who was
riding his mouth. Daphne fucked him furiously, trying to guarantee her fate –
she bent over, her chest to his, as his hips pushed up into hers – and Becca
reached over her and slapped her ass.

Daphne
cried out as the pain reverberated through her – and felt her pussy shake and
tense.

“Again
–“ she panted, and Becca took aim with her arm for the other side.

She
was still fucking Richard, she was still being fucked, and the blows were like
pouring gasoline on a fire. She rode him, impossibly hard, feeling him tense at
the onslaught, until she came with a wild cry, just after Becca’s last slap.

Richard
made a roaring sound up into Becca’s pussy, as his hips beat against hers, and
she knew he was shoving his cum deep.

“Don’t
stop – just like that –“ Becca begged, thrashing against Richard’s mouth,
rubbing her pussy down, until she came with a long whine. Both the women
dismounted him and carefully fell to the ground.

Together
the three of them lay there for quite some time. Daphne couldn’t tell what time
it was anymore, the sun was falling into dusk through rainclouds. Richard
disengaged himself first to pull his robe back on and put more logs on the fire
beneath the Master’s portrait. Daphne stared up at it, knowing that he’d seen
everything, looking down at them over his snifter, while holding his crop – she
glanced over to where Richard had left his snifter on the couch.

“No,”
she whispered.

“Pet?”
Richard asked, looking over at her in concern.

Daphne
shook her head.

 

Just
one night. Just one nigh
t. All she had to do to get what she wanted was
spend one more night. Daphne repeated the phrase to herself like a mantra.

She
made them both come with her into the kitchen to get things to eat for dinner,
and then took them back to the library, everyone wildly half-dressed, to eat
their plates of fruits, meats, and cheese, and was relieved when Richard
switched himself back to wine.

“Now
what?” Becca asked. Sleeping with the both of them had subtly changed her
position with them.

“We
wait out the storm,” Richard said.

“And
then?” she asked.

“We
leave here. We can sort everything else out later.”

Becca
looked between them, hopeful. “How are we going to pass the time until then?”

Richard
broke into a sly grin. “I think Daphne has a ghost story to tell us.”

Daphne
made a face and tucked up her knees.

“You
said this place was haunted, pet. Tell me why,” he pressed. She was quiet and
he looked at Becca. “A girl died here, you know. She died outside, near the
stable, but close enough.”

“That’s
awful -- what happened?”

“The
real estate agent wouldn’t tell me the whole story. Something about her living
here happily for many years, and then suddenly wanting to go…it was like the
house wouldn’t let her leave. Like it would miss her once she was gone.”

“Why
would anyone ever want to leave here?” Becca asked, looking around the
grandiose room.

“Precisely.
Why?” Richard smiled at her.

“Because
–“ Daphne began, screwing up her courage. “What if there were a mean ghost
here? One that took advantage of women? And he was tormenting that girl, so
much so that she had to leave? And when she did, he couldn’t handle it and killed
her?”

Richard
made a contemplative sound. “What if he loved the girl? What if he needed the
girl around his cock? What if he wanted to give the girl everything she ever
wanted, and take care of all her needs, for the rest of the girl’s life?”

Daphne’s
eyes narrowed and her pulse quickened. That didn’t sound like Richard to her –

“What
if he gave her things no one else could? What if he only fucked her because she
wanted it? Because she begged him for it, with her ass hitched high?”

“Richard
–“

“Say
you wanted it, Daphne. Say you needed it all those fucking times,” he said,
emphasizing the word fucking.

“Stop!”
Without thinking, she slapped Richard’s face.

Becca
caught her hand before she could hit him again, and Richard’s hand came up to
cup his face, where a handprint was welting.

“What
the fuck, Daphne –“ he said with his own voice, sounding annoyed.

She
yanked her arm back from Becca. “You weren’t you -- you were being cruel.”

“If
I was, it was only because you made me,” Richard said, voice half a growl.

Daphne
scooted back, with a frown.

 

Chapter Twenty-seven

Daphne
made Becca come with her upstairs to retrieve enough bedding before the sun
went down, so that they could all sleep in front of the warmth and light of the
fire.

“This
place is really kind of creepy,” Becca agreed, after the impromptu tour.

Daphne
turned to face her. “You have no idea.”

 

Talking
was too dangerous, so no one did. They all lay down, Richard between the two
women, both of them snuggled up on either side. Daphne didn’t think she’d be
able to sleep the whole night. The Master was getting bolder – and what if the
storm didn’t break?

Her
concentration was broken by the sound of Becca’s contented snores, and she
snorted. So did Richard.

She
rolled up onto her elbows and looked down at her husband. “What’ve you gotten
us into?”

He
shook his head. “I don’t even know anymore.” His eyes rose up to look at the
wall behind her. “Hang on.”

He
disengaged himself gently from Becca, and Daphne moved out of his way as he
stood. He walked over to the portrait and Daphne bit her lips as he took hold
of it – and started prying it up off the wall.

It
fought him – ages of dust probably gluing it down – but he lifted it away and
up off of the hook behind it. There was a terrible stain on the wall behind it,
where the paint had rippled because of something – water? What? – underneath,
and a pervasive musty odor. Richard swung it out and turned it, setting it down
so that they could see the back of it, and all the Master could see was books.

“Thank
you,” Daphne whispered to him.

“The
only reason it stayed up there was because you liked it. But I didn’t want him
staring down at us tonight.”

“Me
either.”

Without
the portrait staring down, the mood lifted. Daphne looked around at their
situation – it was like they were attending a particularly ridiculous slumber party,
and she bit back a smile.

“There’s
my pet,” Richard said, settling in on her far side, raising himself up with one
arm. Daphne turned towards him.

“It’s
you, isn’t it?” she asked, looking deep into his eyes.

“Who
else would it be?”

She
swallowed, not wanting to answer him.

He
reached out and put a hand on her waist. She was wearing the rumpled clothing
she’d put on this morning while packing – she hadn’t gone back upstairs yet, been
too scared to go by herself.

Thunder
boomed, making the windows rattle. “I don’t think your tests are going to be
delivered today,” Richard said.

Daphne
shrugged. “That’s okay.”

“You
haven’t…given up on me, have you?”

Daphne
looked up at him, confused.

“You
still want a child with me? When you know I’ve screwed up?”

Daphne
licked her lips in thought, then nodded. “Yes.”

Richard’s
countenance changed, she could almost see his whole body sag. “Good.” He
smiled, pleased as punch, and rocked himself near her, pushing her down and
pulling her close.

A
moment later, Daphne gathered his intent -- “But –“ she cast a glance back at
Becca.

“But
what? You’re my wife.” He settled himself inside her. “She’s fun – but this is
why you’ll always be my only,” he said, groaning quietly with his first thrust.

“Just
me?”

“Just
you, pet.”

Their
sex was furtive, like high schoolers worried about getting caught, seeking
solace instead of satisfaction. But when he was in her, and he was himself,
Daphne felt like a weight was lifted, and that there was finally a light at the
end of her very long tunnel. They could leave here tomorrow, drive away, drop
Becca off or take her with them, she honestly didn’t care anymore, as long as
they had each other and they were not here, they had the rest of their lives to
figure everything out.

They
were both trying to be quiet -- despite the martial rights they had with one
another, oddly neither wanted to be rude. Her hands clawed into his shoulders
as she hissed her orgasm out, and seconds later she was filled with his cum for
the second time that night. He lay on top of her, as if staking a flag on a new
mountain, claiming all the space she occupied for him.

“We
fit so perfectly,” he whispered in wonder, before falling to one side.

 

Daphne
fell asleep feeling safe in Richard’s arms – and because of that, she was
surprised when she woke up alone.

“Richard?”
The fire was low, and the rain was over, the only illumination was moonlight
trickling in from the high windows above – and Becca was nowhere to be seen,
either. “Becca?”

She
stood up. Why was she alone? And…unmolested? “Richard!” She shouted his name at
the top of her lungs, listened hard for a response and heard the sound of a
distant smack. “Richard?”

Another
blow. Daphne’s breath caught in her throat, and she ran upstairs to the old
four-poster bed.

 

“Richard!
Becca!” she shouted, her voice raw with terror. She reached the upper hallway
and then heard the sound of blows, louder and more frequent.

Daphne
drew up to a stop in the hallway, looking into the room. There were no curtains
and the moon was on this side of the house, letting bright-white light in,
casting an otherworldly glow over both of their bodies. Becca was crouched on
the bed, tied to the two posters nearest Daphne, her ass in the air on her
knees, with Richard standing behind her, head bowed in concentration, the crop
she’d rescued from the stable in one raised hand.

Becca
looked up, gasped in shock at seeing Daphne there, but Richard didn’t stop his
blow.

“Richard
– don’t!”

He
looked up and over at her. His face changed, emotions cast over it, twisting it
strangely, making it look like it belonged to someone else.

“Oh
no.” Daphne put a hand to her mouth and pulled back into the darker hallway.

“Daphne
– wait –“ Richard said, his voice not his own, like he couldn’t use his lips.
She watched him take two steps and he was awkward like an automaton, like
someone who didn’t remember how to walk inside a body. “Stop!” he shouted after
her, his voice deeper and laced with gravel.

Daphne
whirled and raced down the hall.

 

“Daphne!”
The Master’s voice coming out of Richard’s mouth, making the words misshapen
and horrible, like he couldn’t work Richard’s lungs or lips. She heard him
stumble against the stairs. “Daphne!”

She
ran barefoot across the entry hall and back upstairs to the bedroom. Where were
Richard’s keys? It wasn’t raining now, she was going to take the goddamned car
and leave. She tossed Richard’s bedside table, and his lamp fell to the ground,
rattling. She caught it with both hands. “Shhhhhhh.”

“Daphne!”
He was closer now – he’d see her if she ran out of the room again – where could
she go? “I only want to be with you, Daphne!” the voice that wasn’t Richard’s
shouted from right outside the door.

Daphne
bit back a scream and lunged across the room, reaching for her closet door.
With the things she’d packed earlier gone there was room inside for her – she
crouched down and tried to calm her breathing.

“Where
are you, Daphne?” The Master’s voice, slow and rough, like Richard had had a
stroke and eaten cotton. “I need you,” he said, making the ‘u’ into a howl.

She
kicked her feet out, trying to get further away from him, and felt her back
against the closet’s back wall – and then felt it give behind her. She fell
back and only barely stopped herself from screaming.

She
crawled back into the darkness and closed the door, because that was what it
was, behind her. She heard him open the closet door and reach back and try the
door – of course he knew it was there, of course – and she held it shut as
though it were latched. She thought her heart was going to explode -- how could
he not hear it? – but he stopped, closed the closet door, and moved on.

Daphne
sagged. Whatever she was on right now felt like concrete or stone. Would he
come back? If he did, she couldn’t be here – she slid her hands out, and found
the edges of what felt like stairs.

She
crawled down the stairs on all fours, until she reached what seemed like the
ground. She stood – this place smelled like damp and dust and rot – she reached
out, trying to find a wall and hopefully a lightswitch.

Instead
a pull-string batted her in the face. She screamed, swatted it away, and then
finally realized what it was and yanked on it, not expecting anything to
happen. But they must have repaired the power over night – a naked light bulb
flickered overhead and she slowly turned around.

This
was the dungeon. The place the Master had talked about with Becca – and where
he’d brought her that one intense night.

It
was cold. The floor was stone and the cracked leather furniture was covered in
dust. The thing he’d bent her over was in the center of the room, it looked
like a gymnast’s horse, and there were stains around it on the floor. She
jumped back so as not to touch any of them – and then realized they were symbols.
They formed a massive circle around the horse – and when she knelt down to see
if she could read them, she realized they were painted in blood.

Whose?
And how long ago? Had they been here when the Master had fucked her? She turned
to look for other exits – and saw a pair of work boots behind a cross.

No.
It couldn’t be – she didn’t want it to be -- but she had to know. Screwing her
courage up, she crossed the floor, a hand ready to cover her eyes -- and
spotted Jason’s corpse on the floor. He was the reason for the smell – and all
the blood was his.

“Oh
god –“ Daphne fell down, cupping a hand to her mouth in horror. She thought
he’d escaped, and instead the Master had lured him down here for his perverse
ceremony.

Daphne’s
stomach dropped. She needed another way out.

 

There
were stairs at the far end of the room and she ran to them as if she were being
chased and raced up, only pausing to listen before opening the door, before
emerging into another, empty, closet. She sat there for a moment, trying not to
pant. There was every chance Richard would be waiting for her on the other side.

What
if it really was him again? If the Master left him alone?

It
didn’t matter. It was too late – she couldn’t trust him anymore, not until they
were free.

She
steeled her will and opened up the door and found herself alone in the green
room that she’d been thinking of using for her nursery. The girl’s photo was still
on the ground, glowing in the moonlight. She picked it up and now could clearly
see the thing behind girl and her trophy looming – and knew it was the Master.

She
put the photo down and crept out into the hall.

 

Without
keys, she was stranded. But Beth’s phone number was down on the telephone
stand. She tip-toed down, listening wildly, and carefully picked up the phone.
Beth’s business card, with her cell phone number, peeked out from underneath
Richard’s note taking ledger.

“Hello?”

“Beth
– it’s Daphne.”

“What
time is it?”

“I
need you to come and pick me up. Please. I have to get away.”

“It’s
three in the morning –“

“Everything
your aunt told you was true. This place is haunted – I’m begging you, please,
come get me.”

“Okay,
okay,” Beth said.

“Don’t
come inside the house. Just honk when you get outside and I’ll come out.”

“You’re
twenty minutes away. More with this weather –“

“It
doesn’t matter. You just have to come. I’ll be outside, waiting.” Daphne wished
she’d had the presence of mind to pick up better shoes while she’d been inside
her own damn closet. Had she tried to pack any earlier on? Fuck, fuck –

“Be
safe – but hurry, please.”

“I
will.”

Daphne
carefully and quietly hung the phone up.

 

She
sank down and trotted down the hall. The house was too big, the Master could be
anywhere – all she had to do was get outside.

“Richard!”

Becca’s
voice -- still from upstairs. Daphne put her hand on the door handle.

“Goddammit!
Come back here, Richard!”

Could
she just leave Becca alone here, with him? She hated the other woman, but no
one deserved that fate.

Daphne
waited, and then pulled her hand back with a curse, and turned towards the
second floor.

 

She
knew it could be a trap. Richard could be waiting right outside for her to
come. But after what’d happened to Jason – she went slower, but she didn’t
stop.

When
she reached the room, she looked inside. Becca was thrashing on the bed, hands
still tied.

“Shhhh
–“ Daphne said, running into the room once she saw it was empty.

BOOK: The Haunted (Sleeping with Monsters Book 1)
3.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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