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‘Fucking hell,’ he groaned. His cock was rigid in seconds.
‘You can keep eating.’ Harriet’s voice was sultry. ‘While we see if we can distract you.’
‘Teaming up on me is unfair,’ he hissed through his teeth. Harriet slipped her mouth over his cock, taking it deep while I tongued at his balls.
‘Do you want us to stop?’ I asked.
‘Fuck, no.’
We all ate cold burgers for dinner.
THIRTY-SIX
HARRIET
The evening chill brought goosebumps climbing up my arms. I stalked around the rear of the house while Alfie and Petros worked to disable the alarm and the phone lines. Darkness fell upon the house in all but one window. A faint glow came from behind the curtains in the room that I knew was the master bedroom upstairs. The floorplans from the previous sale of the home hadn’t been hard to track down in the slightest.
The cottage was old, the sash windows were not even double glazed. No wonder he needed to live so far from his neighbours; there was no stopping any screaming from being heard.
My pocket buzzed, and I snatched up my phone to see the thumbs-up symbol from Petros.
Go time.
A ripple of excitement coursed through me. Using a crowbar, I forced the sash window open. The old wood gave way with little resistance like even the house itself was sick of the monster it contained. Not for much longer.
Dropping the bar, I hoisted myself through the window, dropping quietly into the darkened room on the other side.
The house was deadly silent as I crept to the back door and unlocked it. I didn’t wait for the guys. The dark little demon in my core was rising by the second, the urge for revenge making me feel giddy. I could almost smell the decrepit blood coursing through his rotten fucking veins. Begging for me to spill it.
I hadn’t bothered with gloves or a ponytail. I didn’t intend for there to be as much house left to search by the end.
His grotesque form lay snoring in the large bed, and I took my gun from my waist holster, readying it. My eyes bored into him with each step closer to him. Grunts of air left his slack mouth, drool pooling on his pillow. His podgy cheeks spoke of a likely overindulgence in wine. Fuck, I hoped he didn’t have a heart attack and go dying on me. That would be far too kind an end.
‘Wakey, wakey,’ I barked at him, kicking the edge of the bed while training my gun on his head.
He woke up as slowly as a frog that had been half frozen in winter. It took him a good minute to really register the fact I had a gun pointed at his fat fucking skull.
‘Remember me, Hugh? Probably not, it’s been a good long while since we last met.’
His eyes narrowed, and he glanced at his bedside table.
‘One move and I’ll blow your fucking brains all over your pillow.’
‘What do you want?’
‘What do you think? While I don’t doubt you’ve forgotten who I am over the years, you know I am one of them, don’t you? You might not remember the way I screamed and begged you to stop because how many hundreds of others have done the same over the nearly twenty fucking years since we last met?’ My throat choked up at the thought of others suffering at his hands. The sheer amount of pain one human could cause in a lifetime. Well, here I was to even the motherfucking balance.
Petros burst into the room with Alfie close behind.
‘Cuff him to the bed,’ I said.
‘I can pay you.’ Hugh squealed at them. ‘I have money. Help me, and I’ll triple whatever she’s paying you.’
‘Oh, sweet, stupid Hugh. I don’t pay them anything. We aren’t some thugs who’ve come to extort you. Nothing quite so vulgar.’ He struggled meekly as Alfie and Petros cuffed him to the cast iron spindle headboard and footboard. Every thrash of his gelatinous form brought the cuffs crashing into the metal. But he was going nowhere.
Dropping my gun on the bedside table, I climbed on top of him, crushing his chest between my thighs. As much as touching him turned my stomach, I knew that being beneath a woman was degrading to men who enjoyed putting us on our knees; underneath them in every aspect of their lives.
Withdrawing my knife from my pocket, I saw his eyes widen.
