“Bad girl,” growled Karl-Heinz, laying firm, sound spanks on her warming cheeks. “You think you can do what you want with us. Play us like little toys.”
Lydia whimpered and tried to keep concentrating on her blow job as the spanks rained down. She pushed her bottom out, inviting Karl-Heinz to carry on, which he did.
“Look at you,” he said. “Sucking another man’s cock while I punish you. You love it, don’t you? You’re so excited to have two men to give yourself to. Two men to keep your pussy full and wet. My God, you’re going to be busy, Lydia. And you’re going to be the most exhausted girl in London.”
“Mm,” Milan agreed, thrusting between her lips. “You’ll get it all day and all night. But at least when you’re worn out, Karl-Heinz and I will have each other. And we don’t mind if you watch. We’ll make you watch.”
“Yes, we will,” agreed Karl-Heinz. “You can watch us from the corner with your ass on fire from all the spanking you’re going to get.”
Lydia moaned then Milan’s seed burst into her mouth in a long, saline rush, hitting the back of her throat.
Karl-Heinz finished up with a fast volley of smacks then he pulled down her knickers and buried his mouth in her pussy lips, kissing and licking her clit while he held her trembling thighs open.
Milan’s fingers joined in, holding her lips wide, rubbing at her bud when Karl-Heinz moved behind to push his tongue up inside her.
Lydia’s orgasm came quickly and hard, and if Karl-Heinz had not been holding her as tightly, she would have collapsed in a boneless heap all over Milan, who was kissing her as if his life depended on it.
“I can’t believe it,” she panted, wrapped in their arms, entwined in a three way embrace. “I’m the luckiest woman in the world. Oh God, that was amazing.”
She was half-asleep, and Karl-Heinz was snoring, when her phone blared out the opening bars of the Danse Macabre.
She fell off the bed and crawled to her handbag, which lay halfway across the floor.
“Leave it,” yawned Milan.
Too late, though, because Lydia had already retrieved it and seen Vanessa’s name on the caller display.
“Hello,” she said, after punching the Reply button. “What’s up? You’re where? Oh, bloody hell.”
Chapter Fifteen
The building was a converted warehouse in the Shad Thames area.
By day, the narrow streets bustled with office workers and tourists sampling the bars and restaurants, museums and cultural centres. By night, they were ill-lit and eerily quiet, taking one back to the days when rats scurried along the cobbles through sulphurous fog.
Some of the barred, cross-hatched windows were alight, though, even at this late hour, and Karl-Heinz and Milan stood at the entrance of the court, looking up at one of them.
“So is this his place?” asked Milan, peering through the darkness.
“So the orchestra records say,” replied Karl-Heinz. “I hope he’s in.”
Milan’s phone rang out—Paganini’s Caprice—and he fished it out and held it to his ear.
“Milácku…yes…is she okay? Right. Right. Did you call Ben? Yes, we are outside the apartment block now. He hasn’t tried to call Vanessa, has he? Good. Okay. Yes, yes, we’ll be careful. For God’s sake, milácku…we are two men against one. All right. Get Vanessa another brandy and try to calm down, okay? Bye bye.”
“Is Vanessa all right?” asked Karl-Heinz.
“She’s fine, just trying to get over the shock. Lydia has given her brandy. She should stay at yours tonight—we all should. If she goes home, he might try to get to her.”
“I feel bad about this, you know,” said Karl-Heinz.
“Why? You aren’t the one stalking her.”
“No, but if I’d taken her a little more seriously. Lydia tried to warn me this man was bad news. I thought it was all just bad blood and bickering.”
“Hey, you weren’t to know that man was a lunatic,” said Milan with a shrug.
“No, but you did, presumably.”