Read The Contract for Free Online Page A

if with disapproval. "Such a shame to keep something so beautiful hidden away. Take those off!"
    Angela stiffened as if she was about to protest and then after a few seconds hesitation rolled the plain cotton briefs down over her wide hips. Her sex was surrounded by a stunning corona of red blonde hair. Peter smiled and lifted the fingers that had so briefly explored her secret paces to his lips; they smelt musky, like the warm animal scent of the stable.
    Angela's colour deepened as she watched him slip his fingers into his mouth. "Stay like that," he said. "I want to be able to touch you whenever I want."
    Angela bit her lip, eyes alight with unspeakable desire. She bent hastily to pick up her panties and stuff them into her pocket before hurrying back into the corridor. Peter smiled and lay back amongst the pillows; this was an ally he certainly couldn't have anticipated. Once he was certain she had gone he turned his attention to the hold-all on the bed and unzipped it carefully. The interior smelt of rank dampness – the sea.
    Inside, carefully wrapped in a double layer of polythene, was the thing that had almost cost him his life. It was a simple metal box with adapter leads carefully wound around it like the umbilical cord of a new-born child. In the bag, untouched by the sea water, was the thing for which he was certain Johnson and his partner Max Fielding would be prepared to die or kill for: Magenta.
    Carefully he unpeeled the water proof wrapping – it certainly looked undamaged but he couldn't be sure until he had access to a computer. Magenta was a computer hard disk, a huge archive of information that held within it the destiny of nations and powerful men. He sighed and lay back exhausted amongst the pillows, finger tips resting on his prize. Magenta was the twentieth century's answer to the Holy Grail and he still possessed it.
     
    In cell 27 in Deuvar, Emily's unseen visitor had left. She could still taste the salty offering of his seed in her mouth. Against all the odds she knew she was falling asleep, exhaustion and hunger driving her into unconsciousness. She rolled onto her side, careful to avoid the loops of chain that joined her most sensitive and vulnerable places.
    Between her legs she could still feel the dull satisfying glow of her orgasm. Her unseen lover had guided her to the edge of oblivion as she had drawn him deeper and deeper into her compliant mouth. At the very second when she believed she would die under his knowing caresses she had heard him gasp. His movements had become more ragged and instinctive and, as her own pleasure had drowned out all fear, he had flooded her mouth with thick salty semen. He had slumped over her, teasing one raw pierced nipple into his mouth, gently sucking on the cold silver ring.
    She had almost wept as she heard him leaving; she wanted to feel his lips and fingers on her again. Her quim ached to be filled. She shivered at the memory and tried to relax.
    The last thing she imagined before sleep claimed her was Peter's face. Her grief at losing him was mingled with a measure of pure rage and a bitter sense of frustration.
     
    In her luxurious office suite in another wing of Deuvar, Leonora Ti Chung poured Max Fielding a scotch, and a mineral water for herself. "Emily has generated a lot of interest already," she said, handing her employer his drink.
    Max nodded. "Anyone I know?"
    "Vernier the Frenchman, Mustapha the Arab, Colbart -" She lifted her glass as if to encompass the whole mansion. "Let's face it, Max, how often do we get our hands on a white virgin?"
    Max sipped his drink. "So do you think Emily Lawrence will give you any problems?"
    Leonora laughed dryly. "No. All she needs is a little basic training to make sure she does as she's told. It shouldn't take too much."
    Max smiled to himself. After all, hadn't he seen Emily's movements and the pierced delights of her ripe fragrant sex first hand? "And, of course, the right buyer," he added to disguise