Restored to Love by Anna Rockwell Read Free Book Online Page B

exciting me as much as they no doubt frighten the girl. I take hold of her trembling hand and together we slink into the semi-darkness. I have no idea why this forlorn child accepted my outrageous offer so quickly. I decide not to dwell on her motives. She has her own reasons just as I have mine.
    I can’t wait to touch her. In the dimly lit stairwell, I grab a hold of her shoulders and push her flat against the cold stone wall. She gasps, surprised by my sudden aggression. In truth, I am nothing in this world, but I draw with me a dark energy that crosses realms. A force I bring to bear to hold the girl in situ. Now that she can see me in a better light, she truly becomes frightened. I can see the uncertainty in her eyes. I am not fair as I once was. The years sadly have taken their inevitable toll. I can feel her chest rise and fall beneath my pseudo weight. The girl is uncertain now. She wishes to break free from me but I cannot allow her to escape so easily. As her struggles ebb, we remain in deadlock, face-to-face, our mouths almost touching. Almost. Her warm breath feels wonderful, as does the feel of life coursing through her body. I watch the pulse on her neck quicken with a morbid fascination. She has blue-green eyes. They widen as I start to nibble on her lips, then I press harder and harder still until we are kissing proper, my tongue quietly invading her mouth.
    The girl starts to moan into my mouth as my nimble fingers trace a slow path to her centre. She is tense, but I will soon remedy that. No doubt, she wonders why she cannot move. Why she cannot resist. The reaction is always the same. Wonder. Shock. Fear. Yet, this beautiful creature has nothing to fear from me. Though I cannot promise the same of others who search as I do. Her nipples have grown hard beneath my weight. I can feel them pressing into my breasts. The girl’s confusion grows. I have perhaps come on a little strong, yet her anxiety has made her excited, made her wet. I snake my hand beneath the hem of her short skirt, my fingers quickly delving inside her panties until I reach her hot wetness. She is soft, this girl. Despite her leather clothes, she is soft. Vulnerable. So dangerously vulnerable! I can feel her heat flowing into me. I curl my fingers until her bloated pussy lips part and my fingers slip inside.
    Her eyes grow wide as I start my thrusting, making her bite her lip so hard she makes the plump flesh bleed. To see the bright red liquid is heart-warming. This child-woman has the most expressive face, her hypnotic eyes almost mesmerising as I quickly make her come on my fingers, pumping into her with the fervour of someone starved of affection and greedy for the girl’s groans of adulation. My sudden assault leaves her quietly gasping for breath. For the moment satisfied, I release my weight leaving her to stand shivering in the cold corridor. Perhaps she is shaking from the force of her orgasm. The latter I believe, for she stares at me with a sense of wonder on her innocent face. ‘There, that was nice wasn’t it?’ I say. She nods. In truth, I have barely touched her yet. There will be more to follow. Much more.
    I sense that fingering is the limit of her experience. She wonders what I intend next. I ease her concern when we move through the arched doorway. ‘Don’t worry,’ I whisper, ‘there’s more to come.’
    â€˜There is?’
    â€˜I’ve paid for you, remember, with that kiss, but before I can claim my prize we must make a detour.’ I take the girl’s hand and we head out into the night. We walk arm-in-arm to the nearby cemetery. Her brow wrinkles when she realises I mean to go inside, mean to venture into the darkness. During my brief absence the wind has picked up and the autumn leaves swirl throughout the cemetery, seemingly reluctant to land on the cold ground. The girl shivers. I do not feel the elements. Wind or rain, draught or snow do not affect me, but