Bluebeard (5 page)

“Do you like that?” Donna kissed her friend’s mouth, licking at her neck. “Doesn’t his cock feel fantastic?”

“Yes!” Mary moaned, her arms around Donna’s neck, holding on tight. “Oh fuck yes! Yes!”

Mine,
Petra thought, looking at Blue’s hard, glistening length as he withdrew from the blond and immersed himself back into the brunette. And all the while, Petra rubbed her own pussy furiously, a slow friction building, like some exquisite form of torture.

Oh Blue, I want you. Why don’t you want me like that? Why not me?

“I want you to come, Donna,” Blue insisted, ramming his cock hard into her pussy, his hands gripping her hips. “I want to feel you come around my cock.”

The woman moaned, burying her face in her friend’s neck, lifting her bottom for him, giving him deeper access. That made Blue cry out, his fingers boring into her flesh, his teeth clenched.

“Fuck! Do it, baby! Come for me! Come for me!” Blue growled, and Donna was coming, Petra could tell by her shudder and thrust, the low sound rising from her throat, and Petra knew she, too, couldn’t hold back much longer, throbbing for release, waiting to explode.

“Ahhhhhh fuck!” Blue pulled his length out of the brunette’s pussy, his cock already spewing hot liquid onto Donna’s raised, quivering ass. He bit his lip, hips moving as if he were still buried in her wetness—or trying to get back in—fountains of cum splashing down the crack of her ass, dripping down her pussy. As Petra watched, her husband’s cum fell in hot, white droplets onto the blond’s pussy too, decorating her curly pubic hair like fat pearls.

Oh, Blue, Blue, me too, me too!

Petra fucked herself, wishing it was Blue, imagining him baptizing her with his cum. Her fingers squelched in her pussy as she fucked herself to completion, hand rocking between her thighs. She was a wave crashing, drowning, feeling the first ecstatic flutter between her legs, lost in the bliss of the moment, keening and howling, the sweet clamp of her pussy around her fingers a hot, shuddering pulse.

She collapsed onto the bed, panting and floating away in a sweaty, slick heap until Milyi began licking her face and hair, whining softly.

Oh my god, what am I doing?
Petra sat up, looking guiltily at the door, grabbing quickly for the remote and turning off the television. Had anyone heard her? She scrambled to get the DVD out of the machine, fumbling to put it back into its case and then into the drawer where she’d found it. She wasn’t likely to forget what she’d seen. The images were burned in her memory.

Milyi jumped off the bed, scratching at the door, anxious to be out. Petra fumbled in her pocket for the key, hands shaking. She couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid! What was she thinking, coming in here, snooping around? What had she expected to find?

She thought about the other black jewel cases in the drawer, presumably full of DVDs like the one she’d just watched. How many women had her husband been with? Of course, she knew he was a rock star, she knew there had been groupies—hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. But they’d both been thoroughly tested, and he was past all that. He’d told her so.

“Hang on, Milyi!” Petra unlocked the door, her little pug bouncing around her feet in excitement, jumping at the opening. In his eagerness, Milyi knocked her off balance and the key slipped from her hand, falling to the floor. The dog yipped excitedly, thinking they were playing a game, and grabbed the leather fob between his teeth, scrabbling out of the doorway.

“Milyi!” she called, racing after the naughty animal. He skidded on the tile around the corner and started down the stairs, Petra close on his heels. “Bad dog! Give that back!”

She had to get that key! If she didn’t, Blue would know she’d been in his room—and how could she possibly explain that?

“No!” she cried, following the pug around the corner, down another hallway, another corner, past open doors, closed ones. Where were they? After three months, she still didn’t know her way around the house well enough not to get turned around and lost on occasion. “Milyi! Drop it!”

He ignored her command, putting on speed the moment she got closer, slowing a little when she did as well, teasing her, playing his usual game of “fetch,” the leather fob held tightly in his teeth, the key dangling down. The dog’s nails clattered on the tile as he took a sharp corner, this time heading down another flight of stairs.

“Bad, bad dog!” she panted, grabbing the handrail and rushing down the stairs after him. He’d gotten a good head start and she stopped at the bottom to see which way he’d gone. She found him waiting, curly tail wagging delightedly, the leather fob dropped to the floor. He was panting like she was, his pink tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.

“Good boy,” she soothed, her voice light and high, changing tactics as she slowly approached him, her gaze on the key. “Good Milyi. Stay. Staaaaaay.”

He barked loudly, a warning, and she hesitated. She couldn’t remember what was down this hallway. Would he run into a dead-end? Then she saw the door her puppy was standing in front of and knew exactly where they were.

“Let’s go to bed,” she sang lightly, taking another step closer. “Come on, puppy, night-night time!”

He cocked his head at her, considering. His tail was wagging, tongue still out. He was tired. Maybe the fight had gone out of him. She knelt down, close enough to reach the key, but not moving.

“Good boy, come to Mama.”

The dog whined and started forward. Petra reached for the key at the same time, breathing a sigh of relief when it was firmly in her hand. Milyi barked in protest but his heart wasn’t in it. He still looked at her, head cocked, not sure what she was up to. The game was over, but he didn’t trust her not to change her mood from saccharine sweet back to angry.

Then a loud, muffled crash came from behind the door, startling them both. Petra gasped, her hand going to her throat. Milyi barked, his nose instantly at the crack under the door, sniffing wildly. She sat back on her heels, contemplating the door with its intricate carvings, the gargoyles with long, lascivious tongues and wild, wide eyes. This was the room Blue had told her not to enter.

“What was that, hmm?” Petra whispered, scratching Milyi behind his soft ears. He ignored her, continued to sniff under the door, scratching at it now in earnest. But he got quiet when a noise came again. It wasn’t a crash this time. Something far fainter. A wail? A cry? The wind? What was it?

“Is someone in there?” Petra called quietly, glancing up and down the hallway. There was no one around. “Hello?”

No answer. But then that cry again. Was it human? It had to be. She was suddenly sure that someone was trapped in that room. Maybe one of the staff, as they’d been cleaning? Surely Blue would understand her going in under those circumstances, even if it was, as he’d told her over and over, “dangerous.” She couldn’t imagine what could be so life-threatening—was he remodeling? Exposed wires, holes in the floor?

Whatever it was, she could handle it.

Petra used the key to unlock the door, scooping Milyi up in her arms before pushing it open. The room was dark, cool. It smelled a little like Blue’s room—of leather and mahogany. She felt along the wall for a switch, the dog shaking and whining in her arms, finding one and flipping it on. The light came on in a lamp across the room. It had a brown and white Tiffany shade, shedding a circle of light on the leather chair underneath.

The room was lovely, clearly a library or study of sorts. Is this where Blue disappeared to in the middle of the day, she wondered, looking at the rows upon rows of bookshelves. There wasn’t anything dangerous here.

Then she saw it.

It was the same goddess statue she’d seen in the video upstairs, the one with her tongue sticking out, her many, many arms waving about her head. The moment she saw it, she recognized the room in an instant. There was no mattress on the floor, but it was the same room. The shelves weren’t empty now—they were filled with books. Poetry by Goethe and Rumi and Rilke. Hundreds of oversized art books, books about architecture.

Maybe it was just the old memories this place stirred up in Blue that were dangerous?

Milyi cocked his head and growled. Petra frowned at him and then looked in the direction he was staring. The dog gave a short, strangled yap, his legs begging for purchase, trying to run in her arms. She held him tighter, walking toward the far wall. The door was almost invisible to the naked eye, aside from the knob and the keyhole, its mahogany surface blending into the bookshelves on either side—but it was definitely a door.

They both heard it again—a muffled cry? Was there someone in there? Petra looked from the key in her hand to the door, unsure. She’d come this far, she realized—and nothing bad had happened. Besides, if someone was trapped in there…

She moved to unlock the door, shifting Milyi in her arms. The dog struggled, his whole body twisting, excited by the noise, picking up on the rise in Petra’s pulse, the sweat beading on her forehead, the adrenaline rushing through her blood.

“Hold still,” she whispered, fumbling with the key. The dog barked—a loud, shrill noise—and she gasped, unable to hold him any longer. He jumped to the floor, knocking her arm out of position, the key falling. Milyi yapped happily, once again in “fetch” mode, grabbing the fob between his teeth and trotting toward the door opening into the hall.

“No!” She gasped, lunging for him, sprawling on the floor and grasping onto his tail. The dog yipped, pushing with his back legs, and wiggled free. He bolted for the open door. “Milyi!” she wailed, scrambling to her feet to give chase. By the time she reached the hallway, he had disappeared.

She heard the noise again behind her—was it human? Standing at the door, she hesitated, but there was nothing she could do without the key! Maybe she should go find Max or Mrs. Ribya? But how could she possibly explain how the outer door to the forbidden room had become unlocked? No, she had to find Milyi. Then she could shut him up in her room and come back down and find out just what was making that noise.

But it wasn’t as simple as that. Not at all. She headed back to her room and found Milyi right away, curled up in the middle of her bed, panting and drooling on the bedspread—but no key! She hunted all around, under her bed, her dresser, in her walk-in closet. She retraced her steps back and forth, scouring the hallways for any sign of the leather fob, a glint of silver on the floor.

Nothing.

What could she do?

It was almost midnight by the time she flopped down onto her bed for the night, Milyi raising his head and whining before closing his eyes again. Damned dog, she thought, closing her own eyes, her heart still racing in her chest. She had to find that key. If she didn’t, Blue would know she’d been in the room—it was still unlocked!—and she had no idea what he would do then.

She’d never been so happy—and so terrified—to see anyone in her whole life as she was when Blue walked through the door. She had taken great pains to make herself up, nothing too dressy, but her blue silk dress with a gold oriental print accented her slim frame, the cream-colored sandals giving magical length to her already long legs. Her hair was swept up into a messy configuration—it had actually taken hours to get the perfect “casual” look—and she met him with a bright smile, trying to ignore her sweaty palms, her galloping heart.