Alice – black & white ~ erotic fiction

Chapter Excerpt

My heart raced the moment I set foot inside the room. My mission was to infiltrate the hostile place where my duty lay, to suck its secrets from between the fanatic lips of its mercenaries. And the penalty for failure was death. I was afraid; there is always fear. But I would have been a liar if I didn’t admit that I was also terribly excited.

The sweet pungent smell of burning opium and Turkish tobacco filled the dim room. The men were all wolfish grins and glittering eyes, predatory. It was what I expected and it wasn’t. I wanted the false security of a secret nightclub. Instead, I found myself in a ransacked apartment that rang with the vibrations of Judah. A place stolen from its peaceful inhabitants for the pleasure of Aryans.

And pleasure was the main course of the night. A break from the horrors these men bestowed on their fellow humans in the name of nationalism. It was altered reality, a place where sex and violence collided to produce some alien form of nirvana for those who believed that the two extremes could coexist, mesh, and cancel each other out.

I had my work cut out for me. My target, Erich Kleist, sat on the far side of the living room, a woman draped seductively across his lap. But she was no match for me. Her black curls and dark flashing eyes spoke of her Gypsy heritage.

An officer tried for my attention as I strode across the room. Ignoring him, I moved to stand before my duty.

“A drink perhaps to rinse the dirt from your throat, Herr Kleist, dirt left there by this one,” I said, the rising gorge of my betrayal to my murdered lover’s heritage shoved aside.

I watched him release the Gypsy woman’s nipple from his mouth to meet my gaze. She lay across his lap, the ribbons of her blouse stretched open to reveal the dark beauty of her naked breasts.

“And what if dirt was my preference tonight?” His hand moved like a mass of serpents beneath the Gypsy’s glittering skirts.

“Than I shall think you are a traitor to our Führer,” I answered, holding the exquisite crystal glass out to him.

The woman’s skirts lay still when he removed his hand from under them to accept the vodka I’d offered. I smelled the earthen scent of the Gypsy’s cunt on his fingers.

“Traitor? Traitor you call me? I could have you exterminated for words such as those.” His eyes were hot and cold, uncurling the worm of fear at the base of my spine.

Herr Kleist was one of the few targets I’d engaged who truly scared me. I looked away from his handsome face, finding instead the Gypsy woman’s whose hatred for me shone in her glazed obsidian eyes. They were no better than the eyes mine had sought refuge from.

“If dirt is where your passion lies than I am no one to tell you different, Herr Kleist. I am only offering a bit of salvation.” The sip of vodka from my own glass was a sip of courage, smooth and warm within my throat.

“Salvation comes in many forms and no two are the same.” He set his glass aside untouched, unwilling to trust me.

I watched him draw the Gypsy’s skirts up over her hips, revealing the black curly thatch between her thighs. Her moans of pleasure sent shivers down my spine to clash with the fear. I couldn’t take my eyes from the sight of his pale slender fingers sliding through the dark forest of her pubic hair.

“Mon Dieu… voir les anges,” the Gypsy woman cried.

“Dirty or clean, there is more than one road to salvation, Herr Kleist. Good evening to you.” My glass found my lips, the sting of the vodka echoing the fire he’d ignited between my thighs.

I left him to his Gypsy, searching for a secondary target. For though he did not take the bait so quickly, there were other men who had a measure of what I sought and I was free to engage them at will. There would be other opportunities to lure Herr Kleist and his secrets to my bed.

In Stefan, a young officer of lower rank than Herr Kleist, I found a suitable substitute. He sat apart casting occasional glances down the hallway.

“Why do you sit here alone, Stefan? Is there no one who catches your eye tonight?”

“I have no interest in dark women.”

“I’m hardly a dark woman.”

His eyes appraised me before he spoke. “No, you are certainly not a dark woman.”

He cast another glance down the hallway before turning back to me. Stefan reached out, running his fingertips along the outside of my thigh.

“Does this mean I’ve caught your eye?” The way he touched me told me his answer even before he spoke.

“You are very beautiful, Katrin.” His fingers fell away when he rose from his chair.

He rested his hands on my hips. Suspicion lay heavy behind his eyes when he looked into mine.

“Am I your second choice tonight?” he asked glancing in Herr Kleist’s direction.

“Hardly. If you are referring to Herr Kleist you are mistaken about my interest in him. I have no love for the Gypsies either and was merely telling him so.” The lie rolled off my lips almost as easy as the kiss I offered him.

Stefan’s hesitation to return my kiss made me want him all the more. My hand found the hard ridge of his cock between us, drawing a quiet groan from him. A few strokes through his uniform trousers were all it took to convince him of my sincerity. His mouth turned fevered against mine.

“Come to the bedroom with me, Katrin.”