Page 15 of Killer Bones

“Not even the hilt? You didn’t come?”

“No!”

“Good.”

Some men draw closer, and one is Montez. I stay prone, being sensible for once. Whatever he says or does, I vow to not flinch.

“Keep her there.” The sounds of a cock being slickly wanked warn me, and I grimace as his come spurts onto my head and my back. “Next time, we do her face, and you cut her more. Carmilla wants more screaming too.”

The knife is yanked free, and I scream but someone holds me down. I violated his rule not to move, but I’m too overcome to care. Fresh blood spurts. Kicking, wriggling, I try to grab my left wrist but am pinned again, writhing. Montez is laughing.

“That was funny.”

Another says, “For the trip to the boat, to keep her quiet.” Through tears I see Adelmo step away. A needle sinks into my ass. I bite my lip, tears dripping to the table, and I say nothing.

Either they kill me, or I survive. One or the other, I can only pray our deal isn’t a lie. I offered my body but does that really mean anything to him?

“Get her some antibiotics if you want her to last long enough.”

Long enough…?

My hands are being bound even as the drug takes effect, and I’m slung over someone’s shoulder. I watch the floor sway and slowly dissolve into pretty, floating splotches.

7

Adelmo

Montez’s man lowers her then dumps her, face up onto the bed, legs half-spread, dress skewed so it reveals half her stomach and pussy but trails to mid-thigh on the other side. Her feet are bare. The red coat has vanished. Her straight black hair fans over the cherry-blossom bed cover.

This leaves me conflicted. Her presence lends a disturbing undercurrent to this operation. It’s no longer straight-forward.

Her eyes are closed, her body limp, and I gather she’s had another dose since I last saw her in his mansion, so they could transfer her to the yacht without fuss. I’ve not been told how they dodged customs, but I can guess. The man pauses, looking down at her then leans over her and pulls the arm with the bandaged hand from the dress, lets it flop back to the bed then reaches for the other. He means to undress her?

Most would just fuck her as she is.

“Stop.” I straighten from the door jamb, adjust my stance for the sway of the boat’s deck. “Leave her.”

A big man with shorn blond hair, he twists, eyes me. His gaze rakes me with suspicion. “Why?”

“Because it looks better. Her, recently fucked and a mess.” I gesture, walk over, and put a knee to the bed. I lift her upper lip, pressing it back to see her teeth, then I slowly insert my finger into her mouth. Both her nipples are bared—plump, juicy targets for a mouth, a knife, or a clamp. The shoulder strap he loosened fell across a nipple, half concealing it. I trace the pink-brown circle, leaving a shiny trail of her drool.

Her eyelids move then close again, and she groans softly. I pinch her forearm, and she flinches, mutters nonsense. She’s waking.

Truthfully, I’m salivating over her. The possibilities are making me hard.

“Fucking awesome, yes?” I say dryly.

He shrugs. “If you like them half dead and limp, sure. There’s come and blood everywhere, but sure.”

A man with a thing for cleanliness. He leaves without a second glance. The door remains latched back, the passageway visible even if no one else is nearby.

I inhale, hold it in. Her scent lingers in my nostrils. I sit on the edge of the bed. She rolls toward me a little, tempting me. I roll her away, then push her further until her rounded ass is in view. The residue of her arousal and my come still marks her there. The jizz splattered higher up on her back and neck is from Montez. I wander into the small bathroom, get a wet towel, and return to clean her upper back and hair as much as possible.

Then I put her on her back again. The blood leaking through her bandage is bright red, fresh. I dither then clean her ass and her cunt. I could put something in her, leave it there, a wine bottle, the handle of a knife, my dick. I’m hard and aching, and I need to fuck something.

Not her. Girls that don’t react are boring.

I pose her, part her legs, move the torn dress so her navel shows, cup and slide my hands over the undercurves of her breasts.