the bar of his cock. Oh, it was such a hot fantasy.
Billy. His name was Billy, Simeon's friend. And he was the man in the dream, the face at the window, an amalgam of fear, secrecy and desire. He had unearthly eyes and a powerful body, and he clutched her hair, taking control as he shunted into her mouth, echoing Simeon's words: want to suck my cock?
Esther, on the edge of climax, was tipped over by a dart of pain in her neck. She could almost feel the bruise forming under Simeon's lips, all the broken blood vessels blooming beneath her skin.
'I'm coming,' she gasped, slipping down the wall as the shivers gripped.
Simeon sucked harder on her neck, and her orgasm was spinning right out, holding her there on a plateau of bliss. She gazed past Simeon's shoulder, letting herself stream with the thrill, feeling dizzy and weak, the cabin blurring before her eyes.
And then a shadow passed one of the windows, the same window through which the eyes had stared at her.
'No,' she whimpered, trying to focus and get a grip as her orgasm ebbed away. 'No.' She tried to push at Simeon but her limbs were too heavy. She wanted to tell him they were in danger but all she could manage was 'no' and every time she said it, the pain intensified in her neck.
A shadow fell across the second window, darkening the room. For a brief moment, a pair of neon green eyes shone there in the lilac dusk of the snowstorm.
'No,' breathed Esther. A thousand tiny knives seemed to be stabbing into her neck. She was on the brink of collapse.
Then the door flew open with an almighty great crash. The blizzard whooshed in followed by a man from the military. He was a colossal figure in T-shirt and combats, staggering forwards with the bulk of Doug over one shoulder. A mohawk was shaved onto his head, and he was lightly tanned, big and beefy, his skin gleaming wetly. His white T-shirt, soaked from the snow, clung to the contours of his chest, his tight nipples pricking through the cotton. He shot Esther a look, and his eyes were as hauntingly green as the aurora borealis that sometimes lit the northern skies.
Esther screamed.
Simeon gave Esther a shove.
'Get off me, you slut,' he hissed. Blood dribbled from his mouth, and he drew his hand across his chin, smearing it with scarlet streaks. 'Billy,' he said. 'It's not what it seems, man. I swear.'
Billy unloaded Doug onto a chair where he sat, limp and stupefied, his brown beard glittering with lumps of ice. Doug frowned at Esther, looking confused. 'Hello, lady,' he mumbled.
Clearly enraged, Billy strode towards Simeon who stood motionless, lips glossed with blood, as if he realised he had no escape.
Esther's heart was going mad. She knew this man! He was the one in her dreams, and, dear God, he was even more beautiful. He had such a perfect face, strong and handsome, and his mohawk, dusted with snow, was the colour of mink. It lay in a stripe as exquisite as a pelt, and a vein on his temple was a thick blue knot. Esther wanted to run her hands over his head, caress the silky line of his hair, wipe the wet from his skin and soothe the tension that throbbed in that vein.
Billy cast her a cold glance then glowered at Simeon. He raised his fist, biceps taut, wet knuckles glinting, and landed Simeon a punch on the jaw. Simeon's head snapped back and he yelped, staggering from the impact, a hand to his face.
He might have fallen if Billy hadn't grabbed hold of his top and pulled him upright. The blizzard whirled into the cabin, riffling paper and blowing all the clothes and ropes that were hung about the place. The gas lanterns swayed, sending eerie shadows swinging across the room.
Simeon's lip was split, blood mingling with the blood already there. Billy kissed him fiercely, sparing no mercy for the pain he must have felt. Esther stared, stunned. They looked so hot together, a lanky injured man overpowered by a mean muscular soldier, cruelty and rage entwined. Shadows lurched and shrank as snow span around
Billy. His name was Billy, Simeon's friend. And he was the man in the dream, the face at the window, an amalgam of fear, secrecy and desire. He had unearthly eyes and a powerful body, and he clutched her hair, taking control as he shunted into her mouth, echoing Simeon's words: want to suck my cock?
Esther, on the edge of climax, was tipped over by a dart of pain in her neck. She could almost feel the bruise forming under Simeon's lips, all the broken blood vessels blooming beneath her skin.
'I'm coming,' she gasped, slipping down the wall as the shivers gripped.
Simeon sucked harder on her neck, and her orgasm was spinning right out, holding her there on a plateau of bliss. She gazed past Simeon's shoulder, letting herself stream with the thrill, feeling dizzy and weak, the cabin blurring before her eyes.
And then a shadow passed one of the windows, the same window through which the eyes had stared at her.
'No,' she whimpered, trying to focus and get a grip as her orgasm ebbed away. 'No.' She tried to push at Simeon but her limbs were too heavy. She wanted to tell him they were in danger but all she could manage was 'no' and every time she said it, the pain intensified in her neck.
A shadow fell across the second window, darkening the room. For a brief moment, a pair of neon green eyes shone there in the lilac dusk of the snowstorm.
'No,' breathed Esther. A thousand tiny knives seemed to be stabbing into her neck. She was on the brink of collapse.
Then the door flew open with an almighty great crash. The blizzard whooshed in followed by a man from the military. He was a colossal figure in T-shirt and combats, staggering forwards with the bulk of Doug over one shoulder. A mohawk was shaved onto his head, and he was lightly tanned, big and beefy, his skin gleaming wetly. His white T-shirt, soaked from the snow, clung to the contours of his chest, his tight nipples pricking through the cotton. He shot Esther a look, and his eyes were as hauntingly green as the aurora borealis that sometimes lit the northern skies.
Esther screamed.
Simeon gave Esther a shove.
'Get off me, you slut,' he hissed. Blood dribbled from his mouth, and he drew his hand across his chin, smearing it with scarlet streaks. 'Billy,' he said. 'It's not what it seems, man. I swear.'
Billy unloaded Doug onto a chair where he sat, limp and stupefied, his brown beard glittering with lumps of ice. Doug frowned at Esther, looking confused. 'Hello, lady,' he mumbled.
Clearly enraged, Billy strode towards Simeon who stood motionless, lips glossed with blood, as if he realised he had no escape.
Esther's heart was going mad. She knew this man! He was the one in her dreams, and, dear God, he was even more beautiful. He had such a perfect face, strong and handsome, and his mohawk, dusted with snow, was the colour of mink. It lay in a stripe as exquisite as a pelt, and a vein on his temple was a thick blue knot. Esther wanted to run her hands over his head, caress the silky line of his hair, wipe the wet from his skin and soothe the tension that throbbed in that vein.
Billy cast her a cold glance then glowered at Simeon. He raised his fist, biceps taut, wet knuckles glinting, and landed Simeon a punch on the jaw. Simeon's head snapped back and he yelped, staggering from the impact, a hand to his face.
He might have fallen if Billy hadn't grabbed hold of his top and pulled him upright. The blizzard whirled into the cabin, riffling paper and blowing all the clothes and ropes that were hung about the place. The gas lanterns swayed, sending eerie shadows swinging across the room.
Simeon's lip was split, blood mingling with the blood already there. Billy kissed him fiercely, sparing no mercy for the pain he must have felt. Esther stared, stunned. They looked so hot together, a lanky injured man overpowered by a mean muscular soldier, cruelty and rage entwined. Shadows lurched and shrank as snow span around
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