before she adds a third. Then thrusts her fingers in and out in a circular motion, opening her wide until she makes a squelching sound.
“Ay, Dios! Oh. Fuck,” Amaya squeals. She starts to ride the fingers inside her.
“Deeper,” pants The Ram, “stick your fucking fist in there.”
Amaya cries out with pleasure. “Pleeeeaase. No…I can’t. Oh, God. Fuck it. Yeah. Ponlo adentro.” Put it inside.
Goddamn but her own panties are soaking wet. To Amaya’s credit, if the younger woman is putting on a show, she can’t tell. Putting her fist inside Amaya under these circumstances is an impossible task, but it won’t stop her from putting on a great show. Adding a fourth finger causes Amaya to mewl and grunt like a woman in labor, but she opens to the invasion. Amaya’s pussy is a slick vise and getting her off is work for them both as she moves her arm back and forth while churning her fingers in and out. When she bites down on Amaya’s nipple, it’s all over but the cleanup. Amaya screams, drawing the attention of the entire room as she floods her arm with her violent orgasm.
Several people applaud.
Amaya goes limp in her lap. Her inner walls remain firm around her fingers, suckling like a hungry mouth. She has the desire to lick Amaya’s taste from her fingers.
“What are your terms?” asks The Ram with all the confidence of someone unaccustomed to things he cannot have.
“Why don’t we go somewhere more private to discuss it? You can further sample the goods.” She pulls her fingers free from Amaya and rubs her clit gently to bring her slowly back to earth.
“Lead the way,” he says.
5
Constantine Mansion, 2020
Bishop’s Landing, New York
“VV?” she shouts. Her throat hurts and she’s hoarse.
She remembers leaving the party with them—with VV and The Ram. She opens her eyes slowly and realizes she’s in a bedroom. She remembers walking into this room. It’s coming back to her now.
The moment they walked through the door The Ram was on her. He grabbed Amaya by her neck and squeezed her throat as he walked her backward toward the bed. He ripped out some of her hair as he pulled her mask off. “This one’s used goods, Noelle,” he laughed and threw her down on the bed to climb on top of her. “Looks like somebody already popped this cherry.” He pressed down hard on her scar with his other hand.”
Amaya expected VV to slit his throat at any moment. Instead, she was forced to stare up into The Ram’s satanic visage and fight for her life—
Amaya tries to get up and realizes with a stab of adrenaline that she’s tied to the bed by her wrists and ankles.
“I didn’t save you this time,” VV says.
Amaya’s eyes search frantically for the source of that voice and find VV sitting in a chair in the corner watching her. There is a man on the ground near her feet. She can see the back of his head.
“What the fuck, VV?” She pulls on her restraints. They are very secure. Her throat is killing her, and she can tell she’s been assaulted. Her clothes are torn and rucked up around her middle. Amaya’s entire body hurts, but oddly, it’s the damage done to her soul that aches most. She can’t say she wasn’t warned, but this is a cut that will never heal. Amaya’s eyes fill with tears and her voice shakes when she speaks. “Is he alive?” she asks.
“He’s alive,” VV says, “for now. Whatever happens next will be your choice.”
Amaya scoffs. “Yeah, my choice. Fuck you. What did you do to him?”
“We had a drink when he was done with you. I drugged him.” Her tone is cavalier. “It was the most discreet way to incapacitate him. The less evidence the better.”
“Why didn’t you just kill us both and get it over with?” She blinks tears from her eyes. After losing both her parents, Amaya turned her back on everyone. She ran from anyone who’d ever loved her because she did not want to be loved. She could not stand to be loved! Every scrap of sincere affection became too painful to bear. She’d wanted to stay empty, to feel nothing, and to no longer live in a world that didn’t include them. Amaya had lost faith in God after her parents.
When she ran, she ran from Him too.
But rather than death, God had shown her mercy by sending her an angel in the form of a vigilante.