Never: an erotic retelling of Peter Pan (62 page)

Then his belly button, the way her tongue thrust in wetly.  He was fully hard again now, his eyelashes fluttering open as her mouth settled over the tip of his penis.

Hold back
, his mind yelled.  Make it last, but something distracted him.

He'd forgotten about DeMartande, and now noticed he seemed to be chattering his teeth together.  There was a frenzied expression in his eyes as he staggered towards them.

"No!" Long Shadow cried, but he was unbuttoning his pants, his teeth continuing their manic tapping.

Wendee's legs were straight, her bottom up in the air as she bent over Long Shadow's penis and DeMartande took advantage of that position, inserting his now-erect penis with a shaking hand. 

Long Shadow shook his head in horror but Wendee was growling, deep in her throat, and he became so lost in sensation he didn't know what he was feeling.

The soft gloves were rolling his testicles - the pinball machine inside his mind was lit up - but DeMartande was standing in front of him fucking the woman he loved - DeMartande with his jaw clenched shut, his eyes like those of a madman.

Wendee pushed back against him, working the same rhythm she was using on Long Shadow, but her new lover stood as rigid as a corpse.  Long Shadow wondered if he
was
dead.

Then he felt the sucking down sensation, the thick pulling in his abdomen and he closed his eyes - shut out DeMartande and everything else except the thought of Wendee and how much he wanted to kiss her again.  He felt that velvet tongue slide against his shaft as she took him deep and he imagined her kissing him, stroking his tongue with her own, in and out, up and down, warm and wet, soft and... 

"
Mine
," he groaned as the second spasm gripped him, more powerfully than the first against her belly.  "You're mine," he said again, then opened his eyes and looked down.

Her hands were on the wall at either side of his waist as she continued the push, push, push against DeMartande's penis.  Her head was pressed against his stomach.

"Stop it," he said and pushed his body forward to jolt her.  "Stop fucking him."

"I like fucking," she said, through what sounded like gritted teeth.

DeMartande's eyes were closed and he seemed to be totally out of the conversation.

"Crawl up on me and I'll fill you with a hard, hot
cock
if that's what you want," Long Shadow said, his jealousy completely overriding any good sense he might have left.  "Wrap your legs around my waist and I'll fuck you as much as you want."  He pushed against her again.  "Kiss me.  Bite me.  Hurt me.  I don't care," he dared her.

She twisted her head to the side and tried to bite his stomach, but the rhythm she was maintaining and the flatness of his belly inhibited her.  He felt her teeth though.

"Go on, hurt me," he goaded, "if that's what it takes to get a fuck out of you."

"Shut... up," she grunted, as she slam, slammed back into DeMartande.

Then the silent partner in their
menage a trois
made a noise, a stifled groan, and Long Shadow knew the orgasm Wendee had worked so hard to achieve had been won.

She pulled away, straightened, and reached into the back of his pants.

"Disabled," she said breathlessly.  Then looked up into DeMartande's eyes.  "That was the start.  The easy part."

Long Shadow saw DeMartande expression.  It was as incredulous as his own.

"Now stand over by the wall," she told him, "and watch me with no relief this time."

DeMartande did as he was told, his coat covering the penis that still protruded from his pants.

"You wanted to fuck me?"  Wendee turned back to Long Shadow.

He could only stare into her eyes.  He saw something there.  Or at least he thought he did.  But in the second after she released his manacles he had her in his arms and didn't care for the expression in her eyes.  He only wanted her mouth, her tongue, her breasts, her ass, and the molten pool she had let others paddle in, but which was now his alone.

Her legs were wrapped around him as he took her against the wall, their mouths locked in desperation as he jack-hammered into her just the way he'd dreamt.  He didn't want to hurt her or humiliate her now.  He just wanted to wear himself out on her, over and over again.  And they did.  On the wall.  On the dirty mattress on the floor.  At DeMartande's feet.  Everywhere she took him he made love to her.  He couldn't stop.  It was like the burning sensation in his penis.  The more she touched him, the more he ached for her.  Hard, soft, with his penis, his tongue, his fingers.  She wanted it all and he gave it to her, whatever she asked for, however she preferred.

But a man's strength isn't limitless.  It wears itself down from a frenzy into an exhausted lull.  His heart thundering, he struggled to keep her in his arms but his grip was lax.  He knew sleep would claim him but he fought it - sure she would be gone when he awoke.

"Please," he whispered in her ear, panting, hardly able to hear himself over the pounding of his heart.  "It wasn't Skye.  I was just... protecting her.  It was you that I - "

Her fingers pressed over his lips.  "Shhh.  Don't perjure yourself.  Sleep."

"Don't leave me," he said.

She smiled blandly into his eyes, tucking a long strand of hair behind one ear the way he remembered having tucked hers so long ago.  "I was never here, my
love
," she said softly and turned to rise.

Long Shadow snapped his eyes shut but an impulsive tear sprang out before the lashes clenched together.  He breathed deeply. 

I will not cry.  I will not cry
.

He opened his eyes, saw them both standing at the door, DeMartande's hand possessively on Wendee's waist.

"Sleep well, lover.  Regain your strength," she said blithely, turning a secret smile on DeMartande.  "I think we enjoyed this so much, we might do it again."

"And again," DeMartande echoed, a deep satisfaction ringing in his voice.

Long Shadow looked away to the wall. 

The door opened and closed.  He didn't move.  An hour later he was still staring at the wall when the door opened again.

"Visitors, Chief," the oily voice said and Long Shadow felt the hairs stand up on the nape of his neck.  "Told you I'd be back." 

                                       
Chapter Thirty-Six

"You must leave us now," Wendee said over her shoulder to Pietre as she took Christophe's hand, drew him into the room.  "You will give us four hours alone.  You will not watch us.  I want you to wonder.  To suffer."

"As you wish."

Dee knew he would prefer to watch, but he was accepting her command as yet another punishment, another form of foreplay.  He would do as she ordered and suffer the jealousy, made worse by his own imagination.  And when she was finished with Christophe, he would expect her to punish him for that jealousy.  To hurt him.

He would also be hoping that the extremity of his suffering would enable him to mate with her again, as he had three days ago in Long Shadow's cell. 

Nothing they had done subsequently had produced that favourable result and Dee knew it would only be a matter of time before he suggested another visit.

She wanted to avoid that at all costs.

Long Shadow's eyes already haunted her, fed her mind with doubts.  His anger, his passion - both had been unexpected, incongruent with her perception of him as a conscienceless liar.

Yet his degradation of Skye - she's
seen
that.

Dee shook her head.  Shut the door behind Pietre.  Her ability to make moral judgements was gone.  Who was good and who was evil?   Who should she give her allegiance to?  Her world was grey and she wanted it black and white.  Good and bad.  Love and hate. 

Part of her feared what the torturing of Pietre was doing to her humanity, while another part revelled in the release of this dark side of her nature.

The witch and the queen. 

"Wendee?"

She turned to Christophe - Christophe who was so achingly sweet she wanted to bury herself in his arms and forget everything but the smell of his skin and the beat of his eager young heart.

"Why am I here?" he asked.