The Murdered World 47

“You evil bitch!” Christina roared as she slammed into Frank’s back, digging her nails into his broad shoulders. She didn’t know whether she was angry because Frank was hers or because she didn’t want him to be Emma’s. It didn’t matter; she didn’t care. All she knew was that she had not sucked Frank off, let him come in her mouth, let herself pass out just so he could move along to her sister like Emma was the next event in some sexual Olympics.

She wasn’t usually an angry person. She didn’t want to kill Emma and she knew better than to think she could take on Frank. But at that moment, all the misery of her situation found a lever and was able to move her. Just then, all she cared about was who Frank Castle was fucking.

***

Frank liked the taste of Emma’s cunt. He didn’t like it enough to let it put him off his game. Feeling Christina dragging her claws down his back only excited him. He whirled around, suddenly behind Christina—a textbook move from his Greco-Roman wrestling games. In a flash, he’d seized her around the midsection and was dragging her back.

Christina sent a kick at Emma, as angry with her as with her wayward lover. Frank pulled her back just in time for Christina’s foot to clear Emma’s body.

He hauled her to the neighboring bed, thrust her down onto her belly. Between bunks, the sash cord on a fake window shifted with the violent motion in the air. Frank grabbed it, ripped it down, and used the cord to cinch Christina’s wrists behind her back. He seized her ankles next, forcing them back so he could tie them together with Christina’s bound hands, leaving her hog-tied.

Then, it was as if he’d forgotten about her. He stalked back to Emma; she was starting to get up, look at Christina, ask what was happening. He thrust her down onto the bed. Mounted her. Thrust between her trembling thighs.

***

“What the fuck are you doing?” Christina demanded, able to see it all from one bed over.

She saw Frank’s body cover Emma, his hand down at his throbbing member, guiding it to her enflamed sex. Rubbing it against her cleft, finding her wet, making her spasm with how close he was to fucking her. She could tell how much Emma liked the demanding pressure of his erection. She liked it too.

“Don’t you dare, Emma!” she screamed, catching her sister’s eye. “He’s mine! You fucking slut, I can’t believe you! How could you?!”

***

Emma looked back at her. She saw how distraught Christina was. How overwhelmed. She wasn’t sad, Emma could tell. Just angry. Sore that someone else got to play with her toy. Just because she had 32H tits and an ass that would’ve turned on even Emma if they weren’t related, didn’t mean she automatically got every guy she set her eyes on. Much less the last one on Earth.

Christina might look good, but Emma knew how to fuck. And she was going to show Christina that just because men wanted her, didn’t mean she had as much to give them as her skinny little sister.

“Fuck me!” she pleaded. “Fuck—"

Frank wasn’t waiting for permission, he was waiting for the starter pistol. He drove his hardened shaft deep inside her, beginning a frantic rush that denied all past sensations.

Emma loved it. She couldn’t think of anything else, she loved it so much. Minute blended into minute: five, ten, fifteen, and still he kept pushing her, working her closer and closer to orgasm. The size of his organ had been enough to hurt her, scare her climax away for a while, but one look at Christina and she was pure response, driving her wildly feeling pelvis up to his.

“You’re so good to me, Frank! So damn good! Yes, lover, more! I’m almost there! Now! Now!

He let her come, then he made her come more—once, twice, three times. Until it seemed impossible that he hadn’t given her the flood of hot passion that she was usually optimistic to get from a man.

Most guys could barely manage to make her come with them before they both fell into a sated tangle. Frank kept going, making her climax again and again until abruptly he was loose of her, letting her lie there at a halfway point between satiation and contentment, calling on a desire that would no longer answer.

***

Frank marched back to Christina, his erection leading the way like a bayonet. As brusquely as if he hadn’t just spent long minutes railing Emma, he undid the knot at her wrists enough to let down her legs, then spun her onto her back.

“Your turn,” he announced, towering over her.

Christina spat at him. “Don’t you touch me! Don’t you dare lay a finger on me, you brute, you barbarian—”

“Have it your way,” Frank said, frosty as ever, and went back to her sister.

It was so abrupt Emma had no time to prepare. She was still catching her breath when Frank straddled her, kissing her roughly, fondling her as though he’d never stopped. Emma sighed deeply, as eager to pick up where they’d left off as Frank was. She moved her body rhythmically in time with Frank’s touch. Her head lolling back to let him kiss her neck, once more pleasuring her as he had with his first passionate touch.

***

Christina held her breath, watching Frank return her sister to the peak of arousal like he hadn’t propositioned her a moment ago. It’d been a sincere offer, she realized now. If she agreed, it’d be her receiving those caresses now. The almost of it was so strong that she could just about feel his hands flying over her, even as she saw them traveling Emma’s lissome body.

Frank lowered his head and dug his teeth into Emma’s neck, sucking a hickey from each inch of that delicate column. His cheek nuzzled against hers. One hand stroked her coppery hair, the other massaged her inner thigh.

He wasn’t picking up where they’d left off, Christina realized. He was bringing her to a whole new plateau of excitement, building off her last set of orgasms to make them even more intense when she reached her next climax. And how much of that is Emma being turned on by him doing this to her instead of me?

Emma moaned in pleasure, eyes shut, no longer one-upping Christina but entirely caught up in Frank’s efforts. Of course. Why did she need to get one over on Christina when Christina had been foolish enough to surrender?

Frank’s mouth drifted down to Emma’s nubile breasts. The nipples stood up rigidly—Christina thought she could see them pulsing with each pass of his tongue.

Her pulse was racing. Christina watched the action intently, barely able to blink when each fraction of a second that passed was better than the last. She rolled onto her stomach to get closer to what she was witnessing and began to unconsciously roll her hips, rubbing her pubis against the mattress. She stopped herself. A moment later, she started again. Feeling some tiny morsel of the sex Frank and Emma were filling the room with.

Frank mounted Emma now. How long had it taken? Minutes or a few seconds? Christina couldn’t tell anymore. The only vivid thought in her blurred recollections was Frank saying “Your turn.” It should’ve been, dammit, this all should be happening to her!

Frank’s usually stoic face strained with concentration. Christina tried to remember if he’d looked like that when she was sucking him. And she tried to ignore Emma’s head arching back in rapture.

Frank lowered his full weight onto Emma and she let loose a soft cry that knifed directly to Christina’s ears. Emma clutched him passionately. Frank simply grunted and rutted down into her. And Christina could only lie there, her rollover having brought her precariously close to the bed’s edge. She panted helplessly. Wanting with all her heart to break through her bindings and do… something.

As if he had sensed her passion, Frank came off of Emma, leaving her sprawled out in the delirium of however many orgasms Frank had demanded of her.

“Your turn,” Frank said again, his voice ridged with irritation.

Christina didn’t know what to do. Then she did. She had since the moment Frank had entered her sister when he could’ve been inside her. “Yes.” She gritted her teeth a second, like she was preparing to dive off the high board, and then her mouth was open again. “Yes, yes!”