*Please forgive the lateness in updates, I am experiences difficulties with my router and my internet signal is spotty at best. Sometimes it takes several days to upload a single chapter! The doctor says that my concussion will get better just as soon as I stop beating my head against the proverbial brick wall…LOL
Thanks for Reading!!!
Chapter 10
Damien awoke to the sweetly mournful coo of the morning dove outside his open bedroom window. Pushing aside the blonde locks that were tickling his nose, he grinned down at the naked woman draped across him like a virgin sacrifice. Sara was spread bonelessly over his torso, one arm wrapped possessively around his chest and one creamy thigh raised high over his in a warm embrace that brought her center perilously close to his morning erection. Shifting slightly, so as to not awaken his sleeping beauty, he tucked his fingers beneath her out spread thighs and skimmed her mound gently…closing his eyes against the rush of pleasure that swamped his system. She shifted her legs slightly, moaning contentedly in her slumber and opening her legs to offer more of her sweetness. He kissed her soft hair and continued his caressing assault, wanting her to awaken violently aroused and ready for him. Slipping a finger inside her damp passage he quickly found the spot that would have her there in no time. Rubbing tiny circles around the creamy, soft flesh he relished the moans and soft cries emanating from the woman writhing in his arms.
Tilting her head up, he kissed her full on the lips…touching his tongue to them and urging her to open for his plunder. Watching her eyes at last open…dark with desire and lust…was his undoing. Groaning, he pulled her onto his chest and slipped inside, ghosting his hands down her back, causing goose bumps to rise and a lovely quiver to shake her. She promptly sat up forcing him in all the way, until he was seated at last against her womb. Shuddering, drunk with sensation, she held him there…head thrown back and arms raised with hands fisted in her hair; before meeting his eyes, grabbing onto his shoulders, and giving him the ride of his life.
After a release of cataclysmic proportions, they collapsed against one another…sweaty and exhausted. "Good morning, my love…" he choked out through heaving breaths.
She burst into giggles. His heart lifted at the sound. "If you start every day that way we'll have a smile every morning of the rest of our lives." Rolling back over she kissed him again. "Good morning, handsome. I love you."
"And I you." She loved the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.
"What shall we do today? Is there any restaurant business to attend to?"
"None that cannot be postponed. Why, is there somewhere in particular you wished to go?" he rolled to his side to look into her sweet face.
"I've always wanted to see the sights London has to offer. Big Ben, The Tower of London, even the Wax museum! I just didn't think anyone would be interested in going to see…" she got up and grabbed a towel, heading for the bathroom.
He stopped her and put a finger on her lips saying "Hush, love. I would be most happy to accompany you on your quest. In fact, we can make a day of it…or two days… Yes, that would be better. I can show you all those things and more…tell me, would you like to see the Ripper sites?" He followed her into the shower. After a steamy and mutually satisfying experience...was there any other kind with him?...they began to dress for the day ahead.
"Yes, I always wondered who he was…" she saw the look on his face. "Wait a minute, do you know who it was?"
"Yes, I had followed him numerous times, and had taken advantage of the prostitutes he'd abandoned as unworthy of his 'art'."
"Who was he, come on…you have to tell me!" she was all but hopping up and down with excitement.
"You have an author in this generation that figured him out…Patricia…" he stopped to think. "Corniss…no, Cornwell…yes that is her name. She wrote *Portrait of a Killer in which she closed the case of Jack the Ripper through forensic evidence. Well, she was correct…the man she focused on, artist Walter Sickert, was indeed Jack the Ripper."
Sara was fascinated. "You have to tell me all about it…" Their voices faded as they made their way down to breakfast.
Victor made plans. He loved making plans. And if those plans meant pain for the party involved well then…it was icing on the cake. A mirthless smile parted his hard lips as he drew the knife across the breasts of the 18 yr. old prostitute he'd picked up just a scant hour before. Her shrill shriek of pain was a balm to his tortured soul. Watching the blood ooze down her chest was erotic, he could feel himself getting hard and the front of his loose pants tented ominously. Bending slightly he licked the line of bodily fluid and sweat soaked fear from her torso, feeling the rush that came from achieving a god-like status. He gave life, and he took life away…hell, he was fucking god. The girl's stamina was quickly waning, she'd lost so much blood already. He glanced up into her glazed eyes and recognized the fact that she was gone already…she'd retreated into that no-man's land that they all went to when the torture was too much and their mind just snapped. Sighing, he realized that she was not going to come back, so he calmly yanked her head back by her hair…and slit her throat.
Vic and Hugo finalized their plans that evening over dinner. "Nothing must go wrong, Hugo. Is that clear? I will not tolerate a delay. I must have her by tonight, willing or unwilling, I care not. She will not get away with making me the laughing stock of the family."
Mary walked around the boutique, captivated by all of the tiny infant clothing she saw. A girl, she and Simon were having a baby girl! Ecstatic, she hugged this information to herself. Simon got stuck at the restaurant at the last minute with pressing business, and neither one wanted to interfere with Damien and Sara…they both saw the extraordinary change in the girl since she'd arrived. In just a few short weeks she'd gone from painfully shy and scared of her own shadow, to a vibrant and glowing woman whose love shone bright and glorious. Mary had her ultrasound appointment alone, and chose to be enlightened about the sex of the baby…she was so glad she did! Now, wandering aimlessly through the specialty shop, she looked closely at the infant girl section and dreamed of her daughter.
Picking up a beautiful maroon Christmas dress with lace trimming, she didn't hear the approaching footsteps until it was too late. A brutal hand cupped her mouth and nose, pulling her back against a chest filled with rock hard muscles. Struggling wildly, she pulled ineffectually at his arm, breathing deeply and smelling a strange sickly sweet odor. "Chloroform…" she thought, before the darkness closed in completely.
She felt a sting as someone slapped her lightly on the cheek. "Wake up, princess. Wakey, wakey." A voice sing-songed in a strange manor, reminiscent of a child. Groaning from the headache, she blinked several times to try to bring the room into focus. A sharper slap when she gave up and started the easy slide back into slumbering bliss.
"Ouch, stop that!" her tone was petulant.
"Only when you wake up, bitch." That had her eyes open at last. Whose voice was that? Where am I? What the Hell happened?
She realized two things almost immediately. One: this man was no friend and Two: she was naked, and tied to a bloody table and there were surgical tools and other implements next to her…
"Oh…my…god…" she turned to face the man standing next to her. It was hard to believe him a monster. He was trim, fit and had glorious blonde locks that fell artfully over a handsome chiseled face. "You're him…"
He smiled a reptilian grin. "Victor Soriano at your service ma'am." His eyes swept over her nakedness with abandon and she blushed in shame. Oh god, Simon…help me. Please, Lord…don't let him hurt my baby…please.
"I see congratulations are in order for you and your husband…" his big beefy hand caressed her rounded abdomen. She quivered at his touch, revolted beyond belief. "I know you wouldn't want anything to…go wrong…would you?" At her vigorous shake of the head he smiled triumphantly and patted her on the head as he would a child who was eager to please. "Fine…fine. I had my suspicions that you would be easily persuaded. Now, to the task at hand…" Here he held up her cell phone and showed her Sara's number on speed dial. "When I dial, and she answers, you will talk to her and tell her to meet you in your apartment. You can think of an urgent reason…but I will be right here, listening. If you so much as hint about me, I swear before God Himself that I will cut that baby out of you and let you watch me destroy it…do you understand me?" Eyes wide and terrified, she nodded.
* Portrait of a Killer: Jack the Ripper case Closed, Patricia Cornwell
G.P. Putnam's Sons: New York, Copyright 2002 by Cornwell Enterprises, Inc.