"There's no better way to a man's darkness than to awaken his...nastier urges, is there?" Lindsey smiled, a baring of sharp white teeth.
Her gaze fell to his plastic hand. "He did that to you."
He nodded imperceptibly.
"What does it feel like?"
"It doesn't feel like anything."
"Can I?" She didn't wait for permission, and her hand traced a path across the top of the prosthetic. "It's very...smooth." She pressed a little harder. "You don't feel anything." It was a statement rather than a question.
The sexual tension in the room suddenly increased tenfold. "Not in my hand," he drawled suggestively.
Darla's eyes darkened, and her hand slid from his fingers to his wrist to his arm, and then down his chest. Her fingers trailed down the center of his stomach, only stopping when she encountered the cool metal of his belt buckle.
"But you feel...other things?" Her small hand caressed his cock delicately, squeezing the sudden hardness for emphasis.
His left hand covered hers. "Can't you tell?"
"Oh, I can tell. I've been doing this for a long time."
"I guess a girl picks up a lot in a couple of centuries."
Still clutching him like a toy, she leaned up and licked the point of his chin. "I know things you couldn't even begin to imagine."
He swallowed loudly. "What kind of things?"
"Things that would blow...your...mind," she whispered into his ear, nuzzling him gently.
"Care to demonstrate?" he said hotly, pulling back, his eyes searching her face.
She smiled then, the smile that had struck terror into the hearts of four continents. "Aren't you afraid of me, Lindsey?"
"Terrified." His cock was so hard, he was afraid he would pass out from blood deprivation to his brain.
"Good." Without another word, she cleared the desk with one sweep of her arm and pushed him backwards, so that he was perched on the side of his desk.
The sound of his zipper being opened sounded unaturally loud in the quiet room. And then her blonde hair was draped over his lap as her mouth -- dear God, her mouth -- she sucked him down whole, no timidity or hesitation like so many other women.
Lindsey gasped, unable to prevent himself from bucking up into her mouth. It scalded him, the searing heat of her enveloping his violently aroused flesh. His motion shoved him further down her throat. Darla didn't choke. Instead she chuckled around him, the sound transmitted instantly to his aching cock.
"Darla," he croaked, trying to get her attention. He hadn't even kissed her yet, and she was devouring him and he wanted to tell her -- She stopped and he cried out.
"Lindsey? Is there a problem?" she asked in that sultry little girl voice that had given him an instant hard-on the second he'd heard it. She carelessly wiped the back of her arm across her mouth, making a faintly nasty slurping sound.
His eyes rolled up in his head.
She laughed again, then returned to her minstrations, using her hands and teeth and tongue to drive him beyond rational thought, beyond fear, beyond revenge.
"Do you want me?" she murmured, licking his belly. "Do you?"
"Y-y-yes," he stammered. "Please."
The most infamous whore of colonial Virginia shucked her shirt, stepped out of her skirt and panties, and climbed atop him on the desk, knees balancing on the wooden surface.
With a hand pressed against his heart, Darla shoved him back against the desk, mounting him then laying low, rubbing her aching nipples against the hard planes of his chest. Slowly, so slowly it nearly drove him further into madness, she sat back up and raised her hips above him, allowing only the tip of him to part her soaked folds.
His head spun. He hadn't even touched her and she was slick with need, scented honey wrapping the head of his cock in a fluid embrace.
"Ooooohhhhh," she moaned, slipping a little further down on him, riding him shallowly. "Lindsey, what have you been hiding from me?"
His pupils were widely dilated as he stared up at her. "Hiding?" He was beyond comprehension, in a place where only the feel of her body against his made any sense.
"This. It's good. Real." Her hips began to roll forward, beginning a slow, easy rhythm.
"Uh huh," he mumbled dumbly.
He was slack-jawed, and the sight caused Darla no small amount of amusement. "I told you I knew things," she whispered as she leaned down and captured his ear with her teeth. "Good things." She clenched him tightly where he was held inside her, and he cried out from the pressure.
She repeated the motion several times, until he was incoherent with need, writhing under her, thick cock moving in and out of her with brutal shoves.
He wanted to come, he was desperate to come, but she wouldn't allow it. Instead she rode him harder, her pelvis grinding into his, causing a pleasure so deep it bordered pain.
"Darla, please," he begged, his hand clutching her hips. "I need...I need..." he panted, "Please, I need --"
"You don't know what you need, sweet boy, but I do. Oh, I do." Her hands came up to cradle her breasts, pushing them together, attacking the nipples. As the pleasure ran through her, her head lolled back, baring her throat, unconsciously begging for the sharp kiss of fangs to penetrate her flesh.
Lindsey was no vampire, but he could administer pain like any other man. Out of desperation, he reached up and grabbed her by the nape of her neck, dragging her down to him. And then his blunt teeth were buried in the delicate skin over her jugular, and she was screaming and coming against him. The pain exactly where she needed it sent her off, her body spasming uncontrollably around him, tiny, clinging muscles working him ceaselessly throughout her orgasm.
That unforgiving milking sent him over the edge, heaving and jerking as he came. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe; all he could do was hold on and pray that he survived the orgasm.
She slumped, boneless, on his chest. His arms wrapped around her, and he held her tightly, whispering words of forbidden emotion and pressing his cheek against the top of her head.
Darla looked up at him. She arched an eyebrow, a speculative look on her face. "You just might do after all."
That look made the hair at the back of his neck stand on end. Lindsey covered his eyes with a forearm. Why did he suddenly feel as though he had just sold his soul to the devil?