Courting Darkness

Page 8

He blew in my ear, a gentle stream, tickling me until I laughed and reached up to swish him away.
“Stop.” It came out as a whisper, but the force behind his voice cut through and I dropped my hand. “I want to possess you tonight. I want to be your master.”
“You are my alpha.” I acquiesced, my own voice low and sultry, caught in the rising passion that filtered through my system as if I’d drunk sweet wine or a fiery brandy. My tiredness gave way as the desire began to build, and the combination made for a delicious sensation as I gave myself over to Trillian.
“Dance for me, my beloved.” He slowly let go of me and crossed to the bed, sitting on it, crossing one leg over the other as he leaned back on his palms, watching me.
I flicked on the music, as my heart rose to match the heavy beat. Slowly, I began to sway my hips to the drums, sliding my hands up my body to cup my breasts. And then the music took over and I immersed myself in the song, my skirt swirling as I turned, trailing my fingers along my sides, over my breasts, up to greet the stars.
Swaying lightly, I gently rolled my head to let my hair trail down my back. As I fell into the music, the beat became a rhythm mirrored by my body, carrying me away down a dark path, fraught with bloodred roses and night-blooming jasmine. And then, just like that, I was topless and my breasts bounced gently as I freed them.
Trillian let out a short gasp and I caught his gaze, drawn to him like a moth to flame.
“I want to fuck you hard and fast,” he whispered. “I want to feel my cock in your mouth. I want to eat you out, hear you scream, rub my face against your breasts.” His words, raw but not coarse, sent a shiver up my spine. I loved hearing my men tell me what they wanted to do to me.
Just then, the door opened, and Smoky entered the room. I whirled, so ready to be played, like a harp, like the drums, like an instrument of joy.
He glanced at Trillian, then back at me as his hair rose up to grasp my wrists, the silken strands coiling around my skin, their grip so strong I couldn’t break it even if I wanted to. A faint smile broke through his lips, turning them up just enough at the corners to remind me that he might look like a man, but he was all dragon, hungry and possessive.
His hair stretched my arms wide as the strands brought my hands up to slide them behind my head and hold them there firmly. My hips shifted in sync with the slow pulse that echoed through the room.
The music picked up, switching songs, and I was in a woodland glade as the threads of Smoky’s hair swirled me out, twirling on my toes. And then, I was free again, the music playing a trail of bread crumbs for me to follow. The room darkened as Smoky lit candles and turned off the lights.
At some point, I unzipped my skirt, letting it drop to the ground. Eyes closed, naked I danced, leaving care behind, leaving worry behind, letting the music cleanse and purify me as it burned through my body.
And then an arm snaked around me, and my eyes flew open to meet Trillian’s; he was holding me by the waist as he circled with me, both of us caught in the web of music. We circled the room, the music growing darker, and he let out a low growl, ripping off his shirt.
His jet black skin glistened under the light. I gasped, once again mesmerized by his beautiful body. Slender but well built, he had the perfect V-waist. A thin sheen of perspiration glistened over his muscles, and I snaked toward him, pressing my tongue to his neck, and slowly—ever slowly—I slid down his body, drinking in the salty taste of his skin, the drops of water melting in my mouth as I approached his belt.
I knelt in front of him and reached for his buckle, and—with precise movements—opened it and slowly drew the belt out of the loops and tossed it away. He reached down and unzipped his pants, and I slid them down his legs, facing his erection, thick and pulsing.
From behind me, I felt Smoky step up to press against my back, and I turned to him. He had undressed and now his hair fluttered, ankle length, around him as if a wind had caught it up and was tousling it. The silver strands whipped this way and that, dancing to the music. Caught between fire and ice, I reached up and grasped Smoky’s cock in my hands, leaned over and trailed a line of kisses along its length.
He moaned, his head dropping back as his hair went snapping into the air. Holding him firm in my hand, I turned to Trillian and slid my lips over the head of his penis, the salty taste of his pre-cum tickling my tongue. I knew them, intimately—my men—inside and out. I reveled in the taste of their bodies, the feel of their skin against mine, their girth inside me, filling me full, spreading me wide, taking me out of my head when the demons played too loudly against my thoughts.
As my lips formed suction around the tip of his penis, Trillian shuddered. I began to slowly lower myself onto my hands and knees, facing him, snaking my tongue down his length, slightly widening my mouth so I could take more of him in. Quarter inch by quarter inch, I swallowed him down. Breathing through my nose, I matched my breathing to the rhythm of the music, slow and pulsing, as Trillian began to pump ever so gently into my mouth, sliding in and out between my lips.
And then Smoky was kneeling behind me, his fingers reaching around my waist, down to finger my clit, tweaking me, caressing me, driving me higher as my desire grew on dragon wings. I let out a muffled moan as my pale knight thrust himself inside me, sliding through the folds of my pussy, pulsating with hunger and life.
As Smoky began to drive deeper into me, the music shifted and we were riding a breezy riff, a flute leading us like the proverbial piper, and I closed my eyes, my tongue flickering along the length of Trillian’s cock, the shining darkness of his skin in sharp contrast to my own paleness.
A flash of light flared on one of Trillian’s thighs and for the briefest of seconds, I saw one of the spiraling tattoos that had buried itself within him—and within me—during our initial bonding. The silver spiral shimmered through the depths of his skin and then was gone, but I knew it had merely faded from sight. The bond we’d forged that night in the temple would never break—not only were we bound by the Soul Symbiont ritual, but by the Ritual of Eleshinar.
Smoky’s hands found my waist and held tight as his hair took over. The silky threads found their way to curl around my nipples, and one strand began tickling my clit, stroking lightly across it, vibrating to the music, driving me further into my sex haze.
All fatigue was forgotten as the three of us moved, one beast, one creature joined together, rhythmically twisting and writhing to the music, a bright aura forming around us as our passion magnified.
Trillian pulled gently out of my mouth and lay down on the floor, and I began to rub against him, as even more of Smoky’s hair reached out and held my breasts tight, a firm passage for Trillian’s cock. My nipples slipped over his skin as I trailed up and down against him, with Smoky still driving me onward, a musky odor filtering through the room from our passion.
Beads of perspiration began to glisten against my skin, dropping in a line to splash against Trillian’s stomach. The music heightened, as did the mood of our union. I closed my eyes, my breath deepening into ragged pants as the feel of Smoky inside me, the tickling of his hair intensified. The friction of Trillian’s cock sliding between my breasts settled into a lathered drumbeat as I pressed against him. A low mist began to rise from the floor, the icy chill from Smoky mixing with my moonbeams and Trillian’s dark fire.
And then, missing Morio, I reached out with my mind—with the bond that connected all of us—and felt him there, on the edge of our union. He heard me and responded, his energy swirling into play with mine. I coiled around him, touching his essence, stroking his aura. We spiraled together, and then Smoky and Trillian were there, supporting us both, helping keep Morio on track.
Here we could see how tired he was, how much energy had been drained off him. And the change that Menolly’s vampire blood had wrought was apparent, too. His youkai side—his inner demon—was afire, stronger in spirit.
Together, Smoky, Trillian, and I poured our focus into bringing Morio into our midst, entwining him in our web of passion. I could feel him catch his breath, could feel him gasp as I coiled around him, merging with his being, and then, as I started to come, soaring ever higher, I grasped all of my men and we bolted, like a group of stallions and their queen.
Sweat glistened on my body. With Smoky’s driving thrusts, and Trillian’s musky gliding between my breasts, I held tight to the spirits of all three of my husbands and went diving over the edge, spiraling into that black void that is la petite mort, the little death of orgasm.
I slept like the dead that night—at least the dead that Morio and I weren’t scaring out of their graves. When I woke, Smoky and Trillian were already up and my nightgown and bathrobe had been laid out on the bottom of my bed, three red roses gently placed atop the silk. I smiled; they often did things like that—bought me flowers or perfume—and I felt truly loved.
Slipping out of bed, I took a long, leisurely shower, still unable to warm up, then dressed in a warm rayon skirt, a hunter green jacquard bustier, and a light silk see-through shirt over the top as a nod to the weather. I slipped into stilettos and brushed my hair. Placing the roses in a bud vase next to the bed and adding water, I gave them another deep sniff, inhaling the warm scent, before peeking in on Morio.
He was asleep, so I tiptoed back out of the room and headed downstairs.
Delilah and Iris were at the table. I glanced around. “Where’s everybody else?” Menolly, of course, would be asleep, but the house seemed unusually quiet.
“Smoky and Trillian are out patching a hole on the roof. Morio’s asleep—he seems to be resting deeply today. It’s good for his healing.” Iris handed me a plate of waffles, bacon, and scrambled eggs.
“He’s still asleep. I checked on him before coming down.” I took a seat and doused the waffles with syrup, wiping the drip with my finger and then licking off the sweet maple. “What about Shade? Roz?” After a pause, I added, “Vanzir?”
Delilah cleared her throat. “Shade’s off . . . I don’t know where he is, to be honest. He took off early this morning.”
“Rozurial is outside playing with Maggie in the snow.” Iris bit her lip. “Apparently, Vanzir has decided to spend some time hanging around down in the Demon Underground, looking for news of the remaining spirit seals.” She gave me a long look. “You’re going to have to deal with the fallout eventually. When are you going to talk to your men about what happened?”
“How about never?” I mumbled. That was the last conversation I wanted to have. Trillian and Morio would manage, but Smoky—no way in hell could I keep him from going after Vanzir.
Vanzir was a dream-chaser demon, and during our last crisis, he’d ended up feeding on my life force. There had been no choice; he was trapped by his nature, and though he tried to break off the attack, he couldn’t.
The only option I’d had to stop him was to fuck him—it put a stop to his feeding on me. Although it was the last thing I’d planned on, it was better than him siphoning off my energy, which was terribly painful and a much more invasive violation.
But try telling Smoky that and making him understand. I knew he wouldn’t take his anger out on me, but I wasn’t so sure he’d leave Vanzir alive. The Moon Mother had already punished the demon—she’d stripped away his powers. She had also stripped away the soul binder that kept him our slave. So he was now a free agent, but without any protection, which was more punishment than I would have come down on him with.
I finally pushed back my plate. “I’ll talk to them in a day or so. But first, we have to meet Aeval and check out what’s going on with that portal.” I stared at my half-eaten waffle, then stabbed at it with my fork. “I’m really hungry this morning. May I have another waffle, please?”
Iris laughed, but slid one onto my plate, along with another egg.
As I dug in with appetite, the phone rang. Delilah answered and when she hung up, she motioned to me.
“That was one of Aeval’s assistants. Hurry up and finish that. She got impatient and is already waiting for us in the park. We’re to meet her there instead of heading out to Talamh Lonrach Oll. What should we take? Will you bring the staff she gave you?”
I shook my head. “It’s more for ritual, or journey. I still don’t know how to use it, so I’d best leave it here. No, she made it clear to me last night. We take iron rather than silver. I’ve got some of my old paraphernalia around here.”
When I’d been younger, a new member of the OIA—although at that time we’d been in the YIA, the Y’Elestrial Intelligence Agency—I’d often used iron. It had been considered illegal by government officials. Or rather immoral. But I didn’t care. It got the job done.
I’d worn heavy leather gloves to protect my hands and done what was necessary to apprehend our suspects. Nobody but one supervisor ever made an issue out of it, and he—Lathe—had been determined to fuck my brains out. I kept refusing him, so he made my life hell during his time there.
Delilah blinked. “Iron? You still have that stuff?”
“Yeah, but even if I didn’t, we’d have a much easier time here than back home getting hold of it.” I shrugged as she stared at me. “I never could follow the rules, and hey—it saved me from Roche.”
Roche had been a savage serial killer I’d caught back in Otherworld. Actually, truth was, Trillian had played a big part in his capture. I owed him my life, and he’d won my heart. The chemistry had been instantaneous; we’d ignited like gasoline and a match. But nobody else knew the full story. And they never would. The truth would stay between my alpha love and me. I’d wanted to give him credit, but finally, he convinced me it was best to keep the details of Roche’s capture quiet.