He laughs at that, gives my clit a light tap. “I had a feeling that would be the problem,” he says. “But don't worry. I thought ahead.”
He puts his fingers to his lips and whistles.
Her heels make a solid sound on the floor as she walks in. I can't see her, though. She's behind me. “Cat,” he says, “I want you to meet Kit.”
I roll my eyes. “No candy bar jokes, please.”
Kit laughs. It's a deep, throaty laugh. Confident, assured. And dangerous.
She walks into my line of vision. She's beautiful. Taller than me. Dark skin. Red nails, red boots, red leather corset. She smiles at me, but there's an angry glint in her eyes.
She keeps her eyes on me while she kisses my man. While she thrusts her tongue into his throat, runs her crimson nails through his hair. I thrash around. I'd cut the bitch if I could.
She laughs at me. Then she looks at the machine. Then back to me.
“ That thing is going to seriously injure you, honey,” she says. “I'm talking real damage. The permanent kind. You'll bleed. Maybe even die.”
I bite my lip. She's taunting me, I know that. But she's saying what I was thinking.
“ Unless she gets some lube.”
He nods. “And that's where you come in.”
Kit gives me an evil grin, though her voice is innocent. “Me? What can I do?”
“ You can be a good girl,” he says. “Be a good girl and get her off.”
I look up at my soon to be master and shake my head as much as my bound hair will allow. “No,” I say. “I'm not a lesbian.”
Kit chuckles. “You don't think you could handle me, sugar?” She takes a step towards me. Then another.
“ It's not that. I just don't like-” she curls her finger in my crotch, and I forget what I was going to say. She laughs and keeps gently rubbing me. I try not to make any noise. Try not to moan.
I'm not going to moan. I'm not.
She bends down and gives my ear a nibble. “You sure you don't want my help, sugar?”
I shake my head, and she stops. Moves her hand away and takes a step back. She moves out of my vision, so the only thing I can see is that damned machine. Pounding away.
It might be fun, if it works. A lover that never gets tired, that never slows down, just pounds away again and again and again. A constant rhythm.
But Kit's right. It'll tear me apart.
“ Wait,” I say. “Please.”
She turns towards me. “What was that?” she asks. She crosses her arms. “Did you say something?” She turns towards him. “Did she say something?”
He leans against a wall and shakes his head. “This is between the two of you.”
Kit nods, then turns back to me. “That's right. Between us.”
“ Please,” I say again. “Please don't.”
“ Don't what?” She laughs. “Don't get you ready for the best fuck of your life?”
“ I'm not gay,” I say.
She shakes her head. “You keep saying that.” She leans forward and gives my neck a little bit of a nibble. I can't hold in the moan. “I don't think it's true.”
She rests her hand on my inner thigh. Taps against it with her fingers. “I don't think this will take long at all,” she says. “And I think you're going to enjoy every second of it.”
I shake my head.
“ Yeah you will.” she laughs. “You know you will. You just don't want to admit it.”
“ I'm not gay.”
One of her finger nails scratches over my nipple. “I don't believe you,” she says.
She turns the harness and lets me see the machine again. “But let's pretend I do. Let's pretend you're not a lesbian. Either way, you're still going to need some lubricant before that thing starts in on you. You wouldn't want to get fucked by that thing dry, would you?”
I shake my head. “No.”
Her voice is a whisper. “No Ma'am.”
I swallow. “No Ma'am.”
“ Okay then,” she says. “That means you need my help. Unless you can reach all the way down there yourself?”
I give it a try, struggling a bit against the rope, but there's no way. I can't even move my fingers an inch closer, and they need a lot more than an inch.
But it makes Kit laugh at me.
“ So you need my help.”
I nod.
She steps in and reaches between my legs, touching gently, softly. Enough to feel good, but not enough to do much more than that.
“ Please,” I say.
She chuckles. “You'll have to do better than that,” she says. “You'll have to beg.”
My eyes go from her to the machine.
“ Beg me,” she says. “Beg me to make you cum. Beg a woman to give you an orgasm.”
“ Please.”
“ More. Say that you want to be fucked by a woman.” She slaps my ass. It stings, but feels good at the same time. “Say that you're a dyke. That you love being a dyke.”
She leans in and whispers in my ear, nibbling gently on it. “Say it,” she says. “Ask me to make you cum. That's all you have to do. Just ask another woman to get you off.”
She cups my chin in her hand. “Beg me,” she says, leaning in until her lips are almost touching mine.
“ Beg me.”
Lighthouse
The sea hurled itself at the sky while the heavens, impassive, poured a steady column of rain into the troubled waters. The inky heights above and the inky depths below were one in the expanse of night. Darkness extended in every direction, its absolute reign punctuated only by the momentary, unearthly shine of lightning, and a distant dot of wavering brightness.
Hovering over a rain-battered bluff, with the ocean ripping at the rocks below, hung the cycling white eye of a lighthouse. The cyclopic beam from its lantern cut through the torrent. Water slammed against the glass surrounding the spinning light, and slid, defeated, down its sides. The other, tiny windows in the side of the building were dark, save for the bottom one, which was dimly illumined by a flickering candle.
Behind the window, shadows joined and parted on the wall, oblivious to the furies wailing outside; the storm was just part of the roaring background. Inside of the darkened lighthouse a woman was encircling a man's neck with her arms, his hands clasped at her waist. Their faces were close, noses almost touching.
The woman peered at her companion, her face soft and blank as if she were miles away over.
"What?" He furrowed his brow and leaned his head back.
"In this light, your eyes are luminous." She ducked her head and looked askance. "That was pretty cheesy. I've just never seen your eyes in this kind of light before, and they look really beautiful." She shook her head. "I'm so corny. You know what I mean though, right?" Her words were rushed as if she couldn't get them out fast enough. Even when she’d finished speaking, she kept her eyes on the dancing shadows thrown against the wall near the stairs.
"Mhmm." The corners of Bosch's lips curled up and butterflies unwisely chose precisely that moment to take up residence in Maiya's stomach. So caught up was she in trying to take a deep breath, she didn't notice him studying her.
"Yours, too." One hand released her waist to slip under her chin and lift her face. Bosch's perfect lips wore a lopsided grin.
"What?" The question came out before she realized what he meant.
In answer, he pulled Maiya's body hard against him and brought his lips to hers. She let out a short, sharp breath into Bosch's mouth and his tongue followed the source, slipping between her lips. She stroked it with her own tongue and gave a breathless giggle as she tasted him. Her fingers curled at the back of his neck, caressing, and slipping up into his hair.
His fingers, stealthy, crept past her hips to her thighs. They were bare beneath her skirt and her skin was warm. The light touch tingled and she moaned, pulling back from the kiss and panting. Bosch wasted no time, dipping his head. His hair, cool and silken, brushed against her cheek an instant before his lips made contact with her neck.