Chapt. 14

Erik blinked his eyes a number of times, and tried to turn his left wrist. He felt a shot of pain from the fracture site that assured him he was indeed, awake. He moved his right arm, so that his hand could touch the dark tresses. Oh yes, she was real enough.

There she was, the Tigress, curled up next to him underneath the sheets.

Angelique moaned gently and moved closer to him, her body cold but warming up nicely against his. He craned his neck to look at her face. Her head was on his shoulder just inches away. With the alluring scent of a musky perfume was the strong, unmistakable scent of alcohol on the breath coming from her nostrils. It was perfumed with a sweet liquor, he was certain, and whiskey, definitely. Much too much whiskey. The Tigress had partaken heartily of the nectar of disinhibition.

Awkward did not come close to describing how he felt. His tattered mind immediately split between rational thoughts and a place where physical desire ruled. His brain struggled to formulate a plan while other thoughts flew through his mind, none of them honorable.

What a fine mess I am in this evening.

"Angelique, I don't think this is a good idea," Erik whispered, mainly to himself. But he could not deny it; he was physically enjoying her presence. He allowed himself to stare at her perfectly painted face for several minutes. Yes, she was very beautiful up close, too. A pang of pain went through his chest.

She would not let me this close to her if she were not so…unconscious.

His love-starved body had longed for the touch of a woman. Her aura was awakening carnal desires, despite his dread. His heart began to beat rapidly, as his body responded automatically to the presence of a woman's soft skin against his.

I have to get her out of here. The rational side of his brain insisted.

He cursed at his injuries, and for the first time, he felt truly lame. He looked up briefly at the cord hanging over his headboard, and then shook his head, quickly ruling out that possibility. No, he needed someone who would be able to keep his or her mouth shut. That ruled out just about everyone, except for Elaine. How would he explain the presence of her best friend in his bed? He did not ask Angelique to come here. Yet he still felt guilty; his body definitely wanted her to stay.

I need to move, I can't think straight with her breathing on me like this.

He started to pull his arm away from under her head slowly, slowly.

"Ummh." She moaned in the most painfully arousing tone he could have imagined.

He froze in place, not wanting to stir her awake. For a second he breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that she had fallen back into whatever drunken sleep she was in.

Oh no.

She stretched her body out long like a cat then curled up once more against his side, her warm breasts round and firm against the side of his chest and her thigh inching its way up his. Clumsy with drink, her hand meandered over his body, then lazily found its way to his face.

He turned his head hard into the pillow in order to bury the deformed side from her wandering fingers. Even drunk as hell, the seductress moved with precise slowness. Her graceful fingers caressed his face, running through his hair then moved to part his lips.

His mouth opened as if told to. She wet her fingers on his tongue. The taste buds in his mouth awoke with the flavor of the sweet liquor she had let drip on her fingers. The fingers traced and wet his lips.

Through eyes, half shut with desire, he looked at her face. Her eyes were closed and heavy. She wore the most seductive little smile, her wicked tongue licking at her own ruby lips. He closed his eyes tightly. He could not watch that display and remain in control for long.

Glad you are enjoying this torture, Angelique. Tigress indeed.

Erik groaned internally as wet, warm fingers moved down his neck, leaving a cool trail that sent all manner of sensations down his already extremely frustrated body. He struggled to maintain a slow steady breathing pattern, attempting to feign sleep, but his heart was beating too fast.

His pectoral muscles tensed as her hand rubbed his chest, and her nails sensuously scraped at his skin like a predator, toying with its prey before the kill. A low growl came from her throat. He gasped as she fondled one of his nipples, sending waves of burning pleasure through his chest. Her hands stealthily pushed open his shirt. His abdomen tensed in anticipation.

Please, please stop!

His mind pleaded for an end to this, his body ignored any signals to thwart her efforts. The conflict was like a war in his head. Who would win?

Oh God, please,no…

Her skilled hands reached his stomach and played the well defined muscles, as if running her fingers up and down the keys of a piano, up and down…

And down…and down.

He could no longer move; the desirous inferno within him would not let him move as her hand found its plaything between his legs. His clothing was loose enough to provide no significant barricade. His neck arched back as her hand began to stroke him like a beloved pet, then more firmly, again and again. His eyes rolled back and his mouth opened with a deep silent moan.

STOP NOW!

His rational mind screamed within his head, but every nerve in his body was on fire, every muscle was tensed. His uninjured hand clutched at the bed sheet, ripping the fabric. His broken arm and leg ached with the tension of contracted muscles. He tasted a salty, metallic taste in his mouth. Blood; he had bitten something, but his mind was too busy to interpret pain. All he could sense was the incredible, intense pleasure coming from his loins.

What if Elaine would happen upon you now? With her best friend like this! Is it worth the risk?

His mind screamed to recruit him. All he could manage was a few labored gasps.

If this goes on any longer, she will wake up screaming! Can you really resist pounding yourself into her? Then you will be held responsible for your actions. You must stop this!

His head boomed with pain…

Holy hell! If this is what she does when she is dead drunk…

Mercifully, (or not, depending on your point of view) the last shot of liquor must have taken effect on the vile temptress in his bed. Her hand went limp on his throbbing groin. If only his body could do the same.

This is my life. A professional seductress bitch teasing me to death in a drunken stupor. Making me want to peel off my own skin to stop this sweet, sweet torture.

Erik took that fleeting moment of self control to ease his trembling, viciously aroused body off the edge of the bed away from her. If he could have detached his arm to get away, he would have. Miraculously, he slid his arm out from under her head and collapse into a sweaty, twitching mess onto the floor writhing in unbelievable frustration. He wrapped his arm around his eyes and banged his head against the floor.

I could have stopped this sooner. When you play with fire…

He cursed at himself, curling up into a ball, groaning in pain. The pounding, intense aching in his head was only surmounted by the throbbing in his groin that was making his head spin. A trip to the stake, flames lapping at his body was beginning to sound better than this. Better yet, what he really needed was a trip into a lake full of ice…

You damn bitch. You damn drabenhgi whore. I'll never forgive you for this, never Christine…

The name which had revealed itself in a fit of sexually frustrated rage resounded in his head. His mind blurred.

…I mean Angelique. Who the hell is Christine?