Flesh & Blood (23 page)

She smiled mockingly, and then eased back a step, raising her hands to Leah’s breasts. She pressed the pads of her thumbs and forefingers to either side of Leah’s nipples and squeezed, rolling the pink buds between them. The effect was slow, but impossible to ignore. As the seconds ticked by Leah’s nipples began to tingle and throb, and she felt a growing frustration, a need to have them suckled and licked and bitten. Her breasts rose and fell more quickly as her breathing became more ragged. She fought to ignore the attention, but the sensations grew deeper and more profound so that her legs trembled and she could not repress her gasps and shudders. She could barely stop her hands from seizing the woman’s and squeezing them between her thighs against her wet sex.

‘I have given her that which my little pets have,’ Morales said, ‘but without the affect on her own mind. And I have extended it to her fingers. It is not quite as powerful, nor quite as instantaneous, for that might draw too many questions.’

Mbweni let her fingers spread out and gently cup Leah’s aching breasts, caressing, leaving trails of fire in their wake, and Leah gasped helplessly, her head lolling back as her shoulders relaxed.

‘Just think of how much pleasure I can bring to so many lovely girls with this,’ Mbweni said, smiling like a sly fox, and then she leaned close, her tongue wet and glistening as she ran it across Leah’s lips. Leah felt a sexual charge flood her mind, and dreamily returned the kiss.

But Mbweni moved back all too soon. ‘And I am to be permitted to punish you for your impertinences,’ she said. ‘When your master is not using you I may do with you as I choose.’

The bands around Leah’s wrists abruptly jerked back and snapped her arms together behind her, and Morales tossed a leash to Mbweni, the woman’s smile feral now as she snapped the end of the leash to the ring piercing Leah’s clitoris. ‘Come with me, little slave girl,’ she whispered.

Leah could do nothing else, nor really did she want to. She gasped as the woman tugged on the leash connected to her clit, but sexual need swamped her and she followed anxiously, casting an anxious glance back at Morales.

Chapter Fifteen

‘How can you work for him?’ she gasped, as Mbweni raised her arms and fastened her wristbands to chains dangling from the heavy brass posts flanking her.

‘Why should I not?’ Mbweni mused. ‘He is power incarnate. I can use that power.’

‘You’re betraying your office.’

Mbweni laughed softly, shaking her head. ‘Are you really that naïve? Do you think men of power don’t influence the police force in everything it does?’

‘And what are you going to do,’ she demanded, fighting to control her inexplicable arousal, ‘find defenseless girls for him to abuse?’

‘Oh, hardly that,’ Mbweni scoffed, gripped Leah’s chin and jerked her face up to meet her own. ‘I’m going to find defenseless girls for
me
to abuse.’ She laughed in delight at her own wit, then dropped to her knees, spreading Leah’s feet and snapping chains to her ankle bands.

‘Aside from that all I need do is report anything to him in certain areas of interest,’ she went on, almost conversationally. ‘He does not like to be caught by surprise, so if I run across a pretty young thing whose just right for him…’ she straightened with a smile, ‘as you are, then I shall direct her to him.’

She began to gently caress Leah’s breasts again. ‘Besides, you betrayed me, young lady, betrayed me to a man you thought would abuse me with his nasty cock. And I shall punish you for such disloyalty.’

She let her fingers stroke idly down the curves of Leah’s taut body, then trace up and down against the surface of her sex lips. Leah shuddered and her hips rolled helplessly, but Mbweni drew her fingers back, maintaining a very light pressure. Her tongue slipped into Leah’s mouth tantalizingly briefly, then her teeth caught her earlobe and she nibbled delicately. The hunger within Leah built rapidly, becoming a desperate longing, and she felt her mind drowning in sexual need. Yet Mbweni drew back again and again, clearly enjoying herself as the girl began to moan and writhe in her bonds. Beads of perspiration stood out on her forehead, and on her breasts and back as she grew overheated. The urge to beg fought with her obstinate pride, and as one of the woman’s fingers slipped just within the lips of her sex and sawed ever so lightly up and down she cried out helplessly, thrusting her hips forward in desperate frustration. But Mbweni merely drew her finger back so that the contact remained light and taunting.

‘
Please
…’ Leah pleaded.

‘Poor dear, is there something you need?’ Mbweni goaded.

Leah’s body was glistening, her hair hanging moist around her shoulders, and then Mbweni edged back, studying her. She moved to a nearby oak table and picked up a very thin, light switch, moved around behind the captive girl, and with a decisive swing she brought the switch cracking across her vulnerable bottom.

Leah cried out at the stinging pain, her hips jerking violently forward, her head twisting back and forth. Yet she could do nothing to avoid the next blow, and the next, and the next, as the crop snapped across her bottom with precision blows that bit into her soft bottom like wasp stings.

The cruel blows began to push aside the sexual heat permeating her insides, but only partially. It seemed nothing could entirely subdue that terrible need within her, though her bottom was soon a furnace of pain.

Then Mbweni was on her knees, her hands on Leah’s hips, her tongue tracing the horizontal red lines of hurt that marked her buttocks, easing the pain, artfully turning the sting to pleasure instead. Her tongue moved upward, gliding up Leah’s spine as the bound girl groaned and arched her back. She licked up behind her ear, then down across her shoulder and up her arm. Her tongue traced the delicate line of Leah’s jaw, then dipped down between her breasts, circling her belly button, then gliding across her abdomen, bypassing her throbbing sex, lapping at her inner thighs instead.

Leah was soon even more overpowered by the hunger within her, frantic with need, but Mbweni moved away again, once more to the table, returning with a riding crop. It was heavier than the switch, and at its tip was a tiny triangle of leather. She let the crop move across the bedraggled girl’s breasts and down her front, smiled and drew back her hand, then using only that soft tip swatted it against one of Leah’s erect nipples.

The sensation was extraordinary, a mix of delicious pleasure and stinging pain produced by the extreme sensitivity of her body.

Mbweni began to punish her nipple with the implement, bringing it down in a flurry of blows that had Leah gibbering and writhing under the shockwaves of overpowering sensations. Mbweni then turned to the other nipple, striking it rapidly with the leather loop as well.

And then the woman dropped to her knees again, let her fingers ease between the wet lips of Leah’s sex and ease them gently apart. So shockingly aroused was the trussed girl that her juices began to trickle slowly down her thighs.

Mbweni let her tongue lap upward against a trembling leg, and then eased her face forward and played her tongue between Leah’s sex lips and across her clitoris, and Leah’s eyes widened with delight as a shattering orgasm collapsed upon her.

‘Feeling better?’ Scott asked, and Leah nodded without speaking as they got into the car. He looked at her doubtfully. ‘You’ve got dark rings under your eyes.

‘I was sick,’ Leah said abruptly. ‘Let’s leave it at that.’

‘Well, we’ve made some progress on those missing girls, at least.’

Leah nodded. Mbweni had briefed her. It seemed Morales wanted the girls found as well, though neither had told her why. Leah suspected an acquaintance of his; some other person with odd strengths and powers was being too noisy, perhaps threatening to expose these people and their unnatural abilities. A younger, more careless vampire, perhaps?

But she found it difficult to really care. She was, to put it mildly, distracted. Now, instead of one master who could make her melt with barely a touch, she had two, although despite the intensity of the pleasure Mbweni had forced upon her she still loathed the woman. Mbweni was an unbearably smug, arrogant, nasty bitch.

Leah belonged to Morales, but Mbweni could do anything she wanted now, so long as he did not object. That infuriated Leah, for Mbweni liked nothing better than to taunt her and tease her, to make her feel degraded. And of course the woman was a lesbian, and a mean one. She had made no secret of her contempt for women who ‘fucked’ men. Mbweni was arrogantly proud to tell her that no man had ever fucked her, nor ever would.

‘It seems two of the girls, the college girls, had their pictures in their college directory guide,’ Scott went on. ‘The firm that took the pictures also processed some for a private photographer who took images of the third girl during a publicity shoot. The picture that included her never ran in the paper, but it was in the database. We’re narrowing our search now to anyone who had access to that database.’

‘That can’t be many people,’ Leah said.

‘No, pretty much those who worked there at any given time over the past couple of years. Trask is delighted. He sees the end of the case and the pressure he’s under.’

‘Yeah, I can imagine.’

‘Odd how he asked for us, though. I mean, now he’s narrowed the focus his own taskforce can handle the interviews and checks by themselves, so why bring us in on it?’

Because Mbweni told him to, Leah thought, though she didn’t say. And Mbweni had done so because Morales told her to.

Morales knew something, knew more than he was saying, which would not be difficult as he said nothing. There were three girls missing, and Morales had had three girls for a long time – centuries, in fact. Was someone trying to imitate him to some degree? If so, did he have any idea who? Probably, but he wasn’t telling the hired help.

The photography firm was not large. It was located in a modern, single-story office on the edge of town. It had an office staff of half a dozen, including the receptionist, financial clerks for billing, commercial salesmen and manager, and twelve photographers. Most of them seemed bewildered at the police attention.

Lieutenant Trask’s team was focusing on several of the photographers who seemed more than slightly defensive and hostile. Well, that breed tended to be anti-police and anti-establishment, Leah thought. Half of them probably did drugs as well.

It was not at all surprising they were looking mainly at the men, but Leah suspected that if the database was the link between the girls the person who had access to it was not the person who had caused the girls to disappear. No one with the kind of powers Morales had would stoop to actually working for a living.

She and Scott were not particularly welcomed, and were given the lower priority employees to interview, namely, the women. Again, the kind of questioning Scott led with was focused more on whom they might have incidentally provided access to. The men seemed to hold a kind of ingrained belief that a girl would not voluntarily be involved in such things, despite intellectually knowing better.

It was true that girls from good families with jobs rarely involved themselves in crime, but it did happen occasionally, usually at the behest of boyfriends. She let Scott ask the usual questions about boyfriends and histories, while she studied the girls. She was only vaguely aware that Morales was with her, noticing perhaps on an unconscious level as they interviewed a few of the girls.

But she became very much aware of his presence almost as soon as Allison Flemming sat down across from them. She understood his presence and his certainty that Flemming was involved, despite being shaken by the strength of his presence for a few moments, fighting to keep from showing it. But then as she focused on the girl she saw why.

She simply exuded sexuality.

And that was odd for she certainly didn’t look like a sensual woman. She was nineteen, but she looked more like a virginal schoolgirl; wide-eyed, innocent, butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. She was petit, slim and blonde. Her hair was straight and fell below her shoulders, her eyes were sparkling and round, and she had a cute little nose.

Her attitude was one of earnestness and a straightforward desire to help. No, she had never used drugs of any kind, and highly disapproved of them. She had never been arrested, nor had she a boyfriend at the present time, nor within the last year.

And yet it was all a façade. Beneath she was, Leah somehow knew, sexually voracious even before someone had found her and marked her and made her even more a creature of sex. She lived alone with her cat, Sunshine, in a small apartment. She read a lot, and especially liked romance novels. No one would suspect her, and Leah could see that Scott was merely going through the motions. She could also see that she aroused him, though seemingly uncertain about why.

She ran through the excuses in her mind, considering how she could possibly justify further investigation into the girl, but nothing emerged from her thoughts. Scott would think she was mad. Trask would think her crazy and dismiss her out of hand.

Mbweni would devour this girl. Mbweni would adore her, not as a suspect but as dinner. And how would the girl react to Mbweni?

Nothing emerged from the interviews, though now all the employees would be further investigated, primarily the men, of course. And whoever looked into young Flemming would do so in a cursory manner and move on to something more likely.

‘It’s her,’ Leah said.

Mbweni looked down at the photograph and then up again. ‘You’re kidding.’

Leah drew in a deep breath. ‘She isn’t as innocent as she appears.’

Mbweni smiled and reached out to cup Leah’s breasts through her blouse. ‘There’s a lot of that going around. So you think she’s like you, hmm?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe.’

Mbweni pinched her nipples possessively. ‘Very well, you and Yi can look into her.’

‘Sara?’

‘Yes.’ Mbweni smiled as she undid a few of the buttons of Leah’s blouse and slipped her hand inside, and into her bra, feeling the stiff nipple poking firmly into her palm. ‘I wish I could have her made as you,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘But then, with my newfound powers of sexual persuasion I suppose I scarcely need to.’