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“Hell, Jason would look weird peering in a window on a night like this,” Laney droned. “And he’s the least weird person in the world.”
“I’m not weird.” Jason almost sounded hurt.
“No, dear, you’re too regular to be insane like the rest of us.”
“What about Erik? I thought he was Mr. Substantial.”
“He is, but that’s different,” Laney said without explaining.
“I think it’s time we turned in for the night,” Erik said. “It’s nearly midnight, there are rooms upstairs. We can each take one and have a decent sleep.”
“Upstairs?” Sandra quipped. “Like hell I’ll sleep in some rat-infested bed. I’d rather sleep down here and inspect things myself in the morning.”
“Laney?” Erik asked.
“I agree with Sandra.”
He shrugged. “Okay, then. Just remember, though, you ladies have a wager to satisfy before our two weeks are over.” He looked about the room rather happily. “You know, I think this place will be the perfect place to pay in full.”
The night was marked by an increase in the thundering storm—lightning, rain and a sweeping wind that marched the angry clouds across the sky.
In the heart of the night, about two am—though no one was looking at clocks—Matthew Parker tapped his wife on the shoulder, rousing her from sleep enough so she could join him. Elise’s heavy lids hardly opened, but enough so that she could see the fiery intensity of her husband’s. She drew herself from the sleeping bag and let him lead her up the mansion’s stairs—on tiptoe, quietly. Not that the two sleeping couples could have heard them creep, with the wind howling like a heartbroken child. Matthew dragged his half-sleeping wife into one of the fancy gold-trimmed rooms. By the time they reached the bed, his hands and body pounced upon her as though there were a little evil traveling through his veins.
“Oh, my, Matthew,” she shimmied under him. He pulled her T-shirt over her head finding her nakedness a delicious target.
She squirmed beneath him as he pressed himself against her rocking hips, hips that rose to meet his sinewy flesh, and a cunt seeking out the rod between his legs. He held her hands above her head, locked tightly in one fist as though this were rape; then he silenced her with demanding kisses, opening her mouth with his lips and filling it with his voracious tongue.
She murmured needfully, beckoning him to continue with her hungering for this tenacious taking.
Freeing himself of his sweat pants, he was as naked as she, his manhood bobbing fully erect, the purple head batting at her pubis mound for a time while he held himself above her looking down like an avenging angel. The closer to striking home with the force of his dick, the more the taut muscle of Matthew’s body gathered power. Elise looked into him with eyes wondrously scared, her small form anxious for the strike. The power behind the first thrust sent pain shooting through her ravaged cunt and she screamed into the night just as another clap of thunder ripped the heated air.
“Yeesssssssss,” her seething voice vented on in sounds more lush and sensuous.
He held her down as his prick banged inside her depths. Her legs parted wide, her knees bent, and her back arched against the binding at her wrists—all as though she wanted him deeper, even though she knew Matthew’s hefty erection would seem to stretch her small opening beyond its limits. Her hips ground harder as his did. Her strained breasts rose toward the canopy overhead, nipples rigid. Then she squeezed down trying to milk the life from the violating stalk, and in the moments that followed, she heard him groaning in the guttural language of climax, “Oh gawd, fuuuuuuuuck!”
Collapsing afterwards, Elise could hardly breath, and Matthew panted with exhaustion. She wriggled for a time with her arms beginning to cramp as he still held her wrists in his steely grip.
“Matthew,” she whispered quietly. “Make me come, please.”
Her words made him relax and the tension ease away. Falling off her, he fingered the hot wet slit, and found her clit to pinch. Elise rolled about in a sensuous silence as the gentle crest of her climax wafted through her body like a springtime breeze. Even the storm agreed to keep its gnashing force at bay while Elise got off. Then, they settled into the cushion of the lumpy old bed that cradled them, watching the mosquito netting dapple in the drafty air as they drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Two
Laney, Sandra and Elise were in the kitchen the following morning making breakfast. Shards of sun shot right through the dusty windowpanes startling the eye with their brilliance—only to fade behind the gathering grey in the southeastern sky. The storm had not yet left the island and there was an unusual uneasiness among these three friends. Elise was preoccupied with her shock from the night before—and afterwards the sex with Matthew. Likewise, Sandra seemed submerged in thought and Laney was too busy cooking to talk.
“Anyone find this house—this whole island—sort of strange?” Sandra finally broke through the quiet with her troubled thoughts.
“Well, yes,” Elise agreed though her answer was vague. She’d already decided not to mention her night in the upstairs bedroom with Matthew. As far as anyone knew, they’d slept downstairs.
“Odd, yes, and that fellow Archibald Devane is a strange one,” Laney added, “but then we can’t complain. It’s shelter.” The sky had just darkened miserably again and it looked as though the rain would start any second.
The mention of their fears only increased the tension submerged beneath the surface of their chatter.
Elise sighed heavily as she threw more
firewood into the woodstove, pushing a lock of long hair off her sweaty face. “Where the hell did we get the wager idea, anyway?” she changed the conversation. “The guys should be out here hauling water and wood.”
“We were drunk, playing poker, if I recall rightly…” Laney remembered. “And we were pretty hard on them when they lost the Martha’s Vineyard bet.”
