Horror

Pierre was about to bust, but he waited for her to notice the battered violin case on the table.

"What's this?" she finally asked.

"Open it," he said.

Her eyes grew wide as she opened the case and lifted the instrument, feeling its perfect balance and examining the exquisite wood grain.

They heard a commotion out in the hallway.

She raised the violin and reached for the bow.

Someone pounded on their door.

"Police!" someone shouted. "Open up!"

Pierre and Alice looked at each other in stunned silence.

"Break it down!" a voice shouted .

The door burst open and three uniformed policemen in flak jackets and riot gear rushed in. They all carried shotguns. The first thing they saw was a woman in the dim light holding what looked like a rifle to her shoulder. Shots rang out. Alice slumped in her chair, blood spurting from several wounds.

"No! No! No!" shouted Pierre as he jumped up and rushed at the intruders to stop them. All the officers saw was someone rushing at them. More shots rang out as they shot him, too.

"Damn!" a voice said as Detective Arugula pushed through the door. "Why'd you have to shoot them?"

"I thought she had a gun," the policeman replied, "and then this guy rushed me. I had to defend myself."

Arugula reached down and grabbed Pierre by the collar. "Where's the dope, you scumbag?" he shouted, his face an inch from Pierre's. "We know all about your operation. We've got eyewitnesses, willing to testify against you and we've had this building under surveillance for weeks."

Pierre's head rolled back. Tears rolled from his eyes. Blood gurgled from his throat. He realized that he had never actually met Detective Arugula. "I'm Pierre Valois. I'm the one who called you. Why have you done this?"

It was the last thing he ever said.

* * * *

Detective Arugula looked up at the door. It clearly said this was apartment 3-B.

Julio and Abdulla were racing down the hall to the stairs, leaving the door to apartment 3-E wide open.

"My God!" the detective declared. "What have we done." 

Getting me out of my pants, she stared at me with wide eyes. "I had forgotten how beautiful you are," she mumbled while softly caressing the inside of my thigh. 

I needed her hand to travel up my thigh and claim everything about me. I needed to feel our bodies close and feel the passion burn between us. More than anything else, I needed to know that she would be all right. Her fingers brushed my pubic hair and I had to fight back my tears. Would this be the last time we could make love? Would we ever be able to have a normal life again? Regardless, I couldn't let my unrestrained emotions ruin our time together. If anything, I would drown myself in finding a way to fix her ailment. 

Her soft caress ripped my attention back to where I had longed to be for so long, naked in her arms. Her touch burned me with a passion that threatened to swallow me and hold me captive. I craved to feel her inside me, filling and claiming me with her essence. Collectively, our hands found each other's wetness while our lips pressed closer together feeling as if our bodies were became one and our souls embraced to unite our inseparable bond.

Slowly, I slid a finger deep inside her, pushing my way through her tightness. She moaned, raising her hips. Feeling her surrounding pleasure tightening and hugging my finger, my wetness swelled. 

"Oh God." She moaned and slid her finger inside me. "You're so wet," she exclaimed as her lips found their way to my neck. 

A moment of concern stopped my enjoyment. Would she recognize me or would she be as brutal with me as she had been with the others? Her tongue inched its way up my neck and I relaxed, falling back into the sexual offerings she promised. I would give myself completely, even if it meant my existence.

Teasing my warm, blood-engorged lips, her touch felt different. It was softer, more delicate, more human and yet, immensely more addictive. 

Softly nibbling my neck, a wave of ecstasy flooded my senses. I would do anything to reach the euphoric release she dangled in my grasp. 

"Fuck me," she ordered. 

Sliding another finger deep inside her, her juices escaped, enveloping my fingers and I craved her taste. Pulling out of her, I licked her sweetness from my fingers, savoring each drop, allowing her taste to penetrate my taste buds. 

Licking my fingers dry, I rammed them back inside her, sliding in and out repetitively. Her body froze. 

"Stop," she begged. "Or I'll come." 

That's what I wanted to hear, but I wanted to taste her while she came. I quickly rolled her onto her back and ran my tongue down her sleek body, tasting every bit of her exposed flesh, past her cleavage and over her nipple, where I lingered just a little too long, commanding it to stiffen and grow while I suckled it. I continued my path down her stomach, sunk my face into her public hair and then parted her lips, stumbling onto her hard, swollen clit and took it between my teeth, while my tongue gingerly caressed it.  

Tamara moaned wildly.  

Carefully maneuvering my body over hers, she raised her head, reaching for my own wetness. Lowering myself on to her mouth, anticipated desire soared through me as her tongue greeted my eager nub and my world exploded into a frenzy of unbound pleasures. Pressing my face against her hot pussy, I reamed my tongue around the opening of her cunt. She grasped for air and followed my lead, teasing my opening. 

Exploring every part of her secret abyss, I caressed her folds, slowly working my way to her ass. Pressing against her tight hole, she clenched her muscles tighter, the tip of my finger fighting for entry into her dark tunnel. My tongue lapped up her juices, distracting her attempts to keep me out. I slid inside, feeling her warmth waiting for me, caressing me. As she clamped down on my finger, I quickly pressed my mouth against her engorged lips, forming a tight seal over her pussy and sucked until the sweet liquor of her pleasure drowned my senses.

The mountains were lovely and they slept out under the stars rather than inside Samuel's luxurious trailer. In the morning, they bathed in the waterfall and made love. Samuel had stopped at a drugstore on the way and bought a fresh supply of lube and condoms.

"Fuck me here, under the water," Reese told him. He couldn't get enough of Samuel. He had a great cock and knew how to use it. And Reese hated to admit it, but he was much better at it than Danny had ever been.

Reese gripped the rock, the water pouring down on him as Samuel slipped his dick into his ass and pumped the hell out of him. At the same time, his hard body moved against his and his hands touched him in all the right places. Reese screamed out his orgasm, just to hear what it sounded like out there in the middle of nowhere. When Samuel pulled out, Reese took him down in the shallow water and kissed him all over. When he was hard again, Reese spread his thighs as he sat up against a rock and sucked him off.

They stayed naked out there most of the day. And when the sight of him made Reese hot again, he wiggled between his thighs and played with his balls, then licked them and suckled them until Samuel pleaded for mercy. "No attention for my poor cock?"

Reese smiled slyly. "I want to fuck you."

"You do, do you?"

"You have a delicious ass and it deserves to be invaded. I want to rape your ass."

He grinned down at him. "I think that might be a felony."

"Not with the willing, it's not." Reese laughed. "Play a game with me." Reese spread out on the ground and played with his own erection, looking up at Samuel.

"I'll do anything with you when you look at me like that."

"Putty in my hands," Reese teased. "Okay, I've captured you out here. You're my prisoner. I've always wanted to do this, so bear with me."

Samuel laughed.

"See that big rock there."

"Yep."

"Go lay on it on your belly and spread you legs real wide."

Samuel walked over to the rock and did exactly as Reese asked him. Reese was suddenly really turned on beyond reason. He walked over, feasted his eyes on Samuel's hard, round ass, then slapped it. "Beg for mercy."

"Please, please don't." He started to laugh.

Reese slapped him again, laughing. "No academy award for you. Your ass is mine, slut."

Samuel glanced back at him. "Fuck me."

Reese spread some lube on his fingers and roughly inserted two of them into Samuel's ass. He licked his lips, not able to wait. He quickly tore open the condom and rolled it on. "Your ass is so fine, so open. I'm going to spread you good, baby."

He went into him without any more hesitation. Samuel groaned, grunted and then began to respond to the pace Reese had set. It felt so wonderful being inside of him. "You're mine," he cried out before he realized it. Later, he wondered if his declaration had been premature. Samuel wasn't his. They'd only just met.

Before Reese came, he pulled Samuel to his feet. With a foot balanced against the rock, he continued pumping into him, his hands pinching his nipples at the same time. He came with a deep groan of satisfaction, whispering his name against his back. Samuel leaned back against him and they stood there, rocking back and forth, holding each other. Reese never wanted it to end.

They stayed another night. Samuel fucked him out under the stars. Reluctantly, they decided to head back the next day. They arrived Sunday evening, at around nine thirty. The first thing they saw as they drove up the road was every light in the place was on.

"What's going on?" Reese gasped, hopping out of the truck and racing up the front steps. Samuel came right after him. When he walked in, he stood there, stunned. It was as though a hurricane had hit the place. The sofas were turned upside down, chairs were scattered across the room and the pictures hanging on the wall were all turned back to front.

Reese and Samuel looked at each other in awe.

Samuel was speechless as well.

"Enough!" Reese cried, his gaze searching the room. "Stop this, Ethan."

Samuel stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. "You think a ghost did this?"

"It has to be. Where is Hans? I'm surprised he didn't notice the lights were all on…and oh no," Reese cried out, "Hans? Hans, where are you? Samuel, run down and check his house."

Samuel raced out the front door.

"Hans?" Reese cried out, heading for the basement. He inserted his key and turned. The door stayed stubbornly closed. "Hans, are you down there?"

A voice called out. "Mr. Reese? Is that you?"

"Hans? Are you all right?"

"Yep, I think so. I got myself locked down here somehow."

"Don't worry. I'm going to get you out of there."

"The light is burnt out, I think. It won't go on."

"I thought that I just replaced that stupid light bulb," Reese replied, tugging on the door. "Damn it. Wait. I'll be right back." Reese ran into the kitchen and came back with a small crowbar. Maybe he could pry the door open.

There was a rumbling sound and someone called out again.

"Hans?" Reese struggled with the door, chipping off some wood and finally pulling it open. "Hans?" He took the stairs a little too fast and almost went flying. When he got to the bottom, he tripped over a body that lay in a huddle. Reese crawled over to him. "Hans? Are you all right?"

Hans groaned a little, then he reached out and clutched Reese's arm. "You're in danger here, Mr. Reese. Leave this place. He wants you gone."

"I'm not going anywhere," Reese said stubbornly as he pulled Hans to his feet. "Is anything broken?"

"I don't think so."

"What happened?" He put his arm around Hans and helped him up the stairs.

"I saw him, Mr. Reese. I saw him plain as day."

"Who?"

"Lincoln Pierce. He was holding Ethan by the throat, on his knees like. He told me to get out, but the door was jammed and I couldn't. I'm sure it was Lincoln who tore the place apart."

"No, I think Ethan did it. I think he was angry I left. He wants me to help him and I don't know how. I don't know what he wants."

"No one can help him, sir," Hans told him when they got to the top of the stairs.

"Hans, you got to talk to me. You saw it all. If I knew what happened here…I could…"

Samuel came in, out of breath. "Good, you found him. Are you all right?" he asked Hans.

"Fine. I may need a hand getting home."

"I'll drive you," Samuel offered. He looked at Reese.

"Go ahead. I'm fine. I'm going to try to put the living room back together. Hans, please, you need to talk to me. Tomorrow, okay?"

Hans nodded hesitantly. "Goodnight."

Reese began to put things back together, feeling such sadness. What did Ethan want from him? Then he paused. There was a piano playing, a voice was singing. It sounded like an echo, faded, but clear enough so he could make out the words. Live for the day…experience the pleasure…come with me tonight…I'll be yours until first light. Forget me tomorrow, baby. I'll be living for the day…

Reese walked slowly toward the ballroom, as if in a trance. The voice was calling to him like a drug. When he got to the entrance, he saw him, Ethan, sitting in the corner, his hands on the keyboard, singing those words in a voice truly blessed by the gods. He stared straight ahead, not appearing to see anything.

Reese swallowed. This couldn't be, but then he'd seen him before. "What do you want from me, Ethan?" He demanded, his own voice sounding sharp and desperate. "You ask me to help you, but I don't know how. Tell me how you died."

He stopped playing, smiled at him, then just vanished.

"No champagne?"

I grinned. "Only if you want to put me to sleep before the interesting parts can start."

"There are interesting parts?"

"I've watched you checking me out just before. Don't tell me you are celibate."

He blushed visibly, but then regained his composure. "I had the impression you had somehow invited me to approach. It seems likelier every minute."

"It is," I agreed. "I feel lonely tonight, and after a long parade of dumbasses passing by, I deemed it appropriate to take the initiative when I saw you."

"You want me? Er--"

"Yes, I do. All you can give."

Should she give in to Gitta’s demands and mate with Uglon? After all, most females were mated as soon as the blood of life flowed from their sex. She knew her mother was right to insist she take a mate before her twentieth summer came and went. But Uglon? He was mean and uncaring, but he was one of the most powerful males in the Claw Clan. Their match would make a strong union between their two ruling families. Yet, surprisingly, Rowk had insisted Seita was meant for another. But who? Who was this male she’d never met? Who was this male Rowk honored above all others? And when would she meet this male? Before Rowk laid the joining garland on her head? Or not until the ceremony had already bound her to this stranger?

If only Rowk would give her to Husek. At the first thought of her beloved, the warmth between her legs grew, flowing as fast and furious as the pounding of her heart. Husek with his pale blue eyes and long golden hair had captured her heart two summers earlier. Feeling he was her destined mate, she’d given into his demands willingly, opening her heart and her buttocks to him.

"You may taste me now." Carl let out a frustrated groan as Robert hungrily attacked her pussy, bouncing along with the swing as he lapped at her juices. She giggled, pleased at the expression on Carl's face as her firm, round breasts jostled with the up and down motion. "Spread my lips with your fingers, Robert. Show Carl what he's missing."

Robert used his thumbs and opened her to him, then edged a bit away, giving his friend a view of her pussy. Carl whined like a puppy begging for a treat.

Miranda leaned backward and spread her legs farther apart. "I could tell you have a good tongue, Robert. Those who speak little often do. Eat me. Lick my juices as Carl wishes he could."

Time passed by. A minute seemed like a year when finally she felt Sasha’s fingers dance like feathers up her arms to her neck. The sensation brought goose bumps to her skin, making her body shiver with a mixture of delight and surprise. She’d never felt the touch of a man before, but she’d thought about the subject a thousand times. Intimacy was the thing she craved most in life and it’s the one thing that she was denied time and time again.

Sasha’s hands moved around her back, unhooking the choker and dropping it to the floor. It seemed to take a little too much time to fall, the clack of the onyx on the hardwood a few moments later than Anne would’ve thought. His fingers continued to move, sliding up her head and plunging into her black curls. A moment later, he removed the sticks binding her hair and it toppled passed her shoulders.

Anne’s body was all shivers. She had never been so aroused in her life. Every ounce of her being was longing for more of his touch, but his fingers merely teased their way back down to her shoulders. There they paused for just a moment, then quested onward down the front of her gown. There was a lace there that kept the bodice closed and, though the gown wouldn’t come off with her corset on, her breasts could easily be revealed by a few well-placed tugs.

The knot was undone first and her nipples were greeted with a light breeze, a sensation that brought them immediately to full attention. Anne expected more teasing, she expected anything but what happened. All at once, she felt the hot of Sasha’s mouth close over her breast, his tongue moving around the nipple softly as he sucked. Though it was a sudden movement, his action wasn’t rough. Quite the contrary, it was just the right amount of attention to make her body shake and her loins stiffen with desire.

When she thought that she wouldn’t be able to take much more, he brought a hand up and pinched the other nipple, causing her to jump. Finally, the passion was too much to bear and she lost her grip on the concept of impropriety. She lifted her arms and cradled his head, holding him in place as he continued to suck and lick.

As soon as Anne felt stable, she realized that she wouldn’t have had much of a choice with her knees beginning to shake from his tender ministrations. There were so many things that she wanted, but didn’t know how to ask for, motions she could envision in her heart, but could never describe with words, places she wanted to be touched that were too taboo to mention.

Anne barely realized that Sasha had stopped tending to her nipples when suddenly, her corset was torn. The tatters fell to the floor as he violently cleared the path between him and her hot aroused flesh. She let go of his head and nearly stumbled back, but he caught her about the waist and lifted her up. He settled her on the bed and held her with one arm while removing the rest of her ruined garment.

She shivered from cold and fear, unsure of what was happening next, but certain that she no longer had any control over it—if she ever did to begin with. There was no stopping now. She had to trust Sasha implicitly for good or ill and, despite her mental trepidation, her body was already accepting the inevitable.

Anne was moist and hot between her legs, a sensation she had felt before but never so intensely. Her eyes were still closed, but she heard another rip of clothes, fabric settling on the floor. Sasha was hovering over her, she could feel his presence and shortly, his lips, kissing her bare stomach, ever moving slowly down.

Some locks of Sasha’s hair had escaped their bonds, the ends tickling Anne’s skin with every ragged breath that she took. Seemingly by instinct, she separated her legs as he kissed her abdomen, his mouth nearly hovering over her sex. She held her breath and clasped at the bed covers in anticipation.

Sasha hesitated, breathing softly on the fold of skin he was about to taste. Certain she could not handle the suspense any longer, she gasped as he brushed the tip of his tongue gently against her, taking a long leisurely lick that tore a moan from her throat. He paused, letting her writhe in frustration before returning for another pass.

Anne’s moans became incessant. She reached down and took hold of his head in a wanton moment of desperation, pulling him against her. His tongue had perfect rhythm, working with her body’s motions and keeping up with each convulsive display of pleasure, dragging out every second of sensation. He seemed to govern the mounting pressure in her loins, dragging it higher and higher…

All at once, Anne’s eyes opened wide and her mouth was open with a silent scream. She spread her legs further apart, bucking her hips to give him better access. Waves of orgasm flashed over her like chills during a fever, lightening her head and burning her senses into one cohesive entity of delight.

“This is as far from innocent as love is from hate.” Angelique pressed closer to me and her lips barely brushed against mine with every sharp syllable. “This is the point that you find out just what a soul is worth and what lengths some of us will go through to get them.”

The kiss was electric. Her lips pressed hard against mine and her tongue forced my mouth open, starving to explore. Every nerve ending in my body betrayed the voice in my head that was shouting to stop her. I put my hands on her shoulders, but instead of pushing away, I held her tightly.

I joined her in the savage kiss, grunting as her hand began to stroke me hard through my pants. My loins were on fire, my heart beating flaming signals throughout my limbs that all cried out to take her on the floor. There was no love to be made—just an animal hunger for sex, a desire to taste every inch of her skin to a wild glorious climax.

Angelique got rougher.

And there, after two months, followed other three weeks of downright infatuation. For three weeks, and day after day, Linnea’s flat turned into a sanctuary of lust--their endless and imaginary night of carnality.

“I want to break the schedules of hours and days,” said Linnea, holding Yonah’s hands as they sat on the green settee. She wore a lovely red kimono with flaming dragons embroidered on its sleeves. “I want these days to be special for you, but I don’t want to know if it’s day or night out there. I just want this flat to be our world and I want to make you happy here.”

“You’re so sweet, darling,” said Yonah, smiling, and bent forwards her friend and kissed her on the mouth. Their slithering tongues couldn’t wait to play inside each other’s mouth.

“Wait, love,” interrupted Linnea. “I’m drawing the curtains.”

“Why? You afraid of peeping Toms?”

“No, I’m just jealous of the external world and I’m going to say goodbye to it.”

One by one Linnea drew all the curtains of her flat, shutting out the sun. Then, she struck a match and began to burn about a dozen white candles she’d already spread throughout the room. Shortly after the place was suffused with a supernatural metallic green coming from the candles.

“Hey! What’s this? Where did you get those candles?” asked Yonah, a little surprised at the effect of the colour. “It’s great.”

Her friend just smiled back but didn’t answer. Soft Arabian melodies came from the CD player next to the green settee instead. Her friend started to dance, shaking her hips, letting her kimono slide off and tossing it on the floor as Yonah got up and applauded, delighted.

Like an odalisque she moved and whirled around her, performing an exotic dance with disturbing grace, never taking her eyes off hers. No man could ever understand the primitive erotic power of those undulating movements, thought Yonah, or the complicated things a woman could feel. No, men couldn’t possibly understand a female dance performed for female eyes only.

The fluid motion of Linnea’s body and limbs froze her on the spot. She wanted to have that body encased in that metallic gold and black bustier; she wanted to taste her there, beneath those matching thongs. Her warm and flawless body offered itself like a wondrous gift she was eager to gingerly unwrap.

As if she read her mind, the dancer then stopped. The music went on but they stood in the middle of the living room, breast to breast, iris to iris, indifferent to the sound, but gently touching each other with soft caresses.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” invited Linnea and put her left arm around her waist.

More candlelight awaited for them in the bedroom and their mouths came together, more insistent and demanding in the dim intimacy of that supernatural light. A thrill of excitement ran through Yonah’s body as she felt Linnea’s hands reaching down to caress the crest of her buttocks. Her mouth tried to respond to Linnea’s passion as she felt the lubrication forming between her legs. But Linnea softly pulled away.

“Let’s strip off, love,” she whispered. “Eves no need clobber in paradise.”

Standing by the king-size bed Yonah slipped the bustier ruffled straps from her lover’s shoulders and lightly kissed the hairline at the nape of her neck while her dark hands looked for the hooks of her garment, undoing them one by one.

"You're not the only one who can make snap judgments about others," Bryson pointed out. He couldn't wait to turn the tables on the arrogant, smug know-it-all.

Elliot gave that knowing smirk that Bryson was quickly growing to hate. "Is that so? Then you must share what you think about me? I'm just giddy with anticipation."

Bryson nearly rubbed his hands together in glee. He couldn't believe the overconfident jerk actually asked for it. "You're an intellectual…or at least you like to think you are. In reality, you're just as insecure and unsure about life as the rest of us. The reason you're afraid to go to the clubs and meet others is that you'll find out how small and insignificant you truly are."

"Really? Is that the best you could come up with?" Some of the bluster seemed to leave Elliot's face.

"No, there's more." Bryson leaned in, really warming up to the subject. "You like to think you're better than guys like me, but inside, you're way more insecure than I'll ever be. I'd even go so far as to say you're nothing but a great, big coward."

"You couldn't be more wrong." Elliot tossed the money he'd been counting down in disgust and finally gave Bryson his full attention.

"I'm right and it kills you to know it. Do you want to know why I think you're a great big scardy pants?" Bryson leaned in even closer.

"No, but I get the feeling you're going to tell me anyhow."

"Because while you're too afraid to live life to the fullest. I'm out there letting go and being who I am."

"If letting go means getting fired for fucking in some nursing home break room, you can have it," Elliot snapped.

"It wasn't fucking, just a quick blow job," Bryson countered.

"That makes it even more pathetic. Was that brief five minutes of pleasure worth losing your job over?"

Bryson only had to think that one over a couple seconds. 'Yeah, you should have been there."

"I'm sure I didn't miss much."

"Oh, it was fantastic." Bryson made a big show of slowly licking his lips. "Dr. Larson, down on his knees, his lips wrapped around my cock. How he looked up with those sweet green eyes, his expression just begging me to come in his mouth."

Elliot made a soft sound.

It may have been a gasp or a whimper, Bryson wasn't quite sure which one.

"Are you trying to tell me that it was a doctor who sucked you off?"

"Yeah, he wanted it bad, too, but I made him wait for a few weeks before I finally gave in. "

"Wasn't he a lot older than you?" Elliot swallowed loudly as his gaze drifted down to Bryson's cock.

Bryson's dick had grown hard the instant he'd started to tell the story, but he made no move to hide that fact from Elliot. Just the opposite, he rubbed it with the heel of his hand and let out a slow moan. "Dr. Larson was only fifteen years older than me. He was a fucking god in the looks department, too."

"Then why did you play hard to get? Somehow I don't see you normally playing that role." Elliot's gaze remained locked on Bryson's lap.

"Because it was fun watching him suffer." Bryson groaned as he continued to massage his cock.

Yuis stared out beyond the concrete walkway toward the beach where couples were walking hand in hand. The gentle waves lapped at the sand and the smell of the ocean beckoned to him.

He descended the concrete stairs, but just before he reached the beach, he cried out as powerful dizziness made him lose his balance. The steps seemed to dissolve and his body floated down. He fell onto the soft sand of the beach, and fought to regain his equilibrium. What was happening to him? He felt like he was in the grip of a nightmare and he was struggling with a heavy weight. He gasped as the feeling left him abruptly. The thumping salsa music had stopped. A tropical bird called out into the night and the sound rose high and then died away. Yuis stood and looked behind him, but the concrete stairs were gone. All he saw were rough slabs of stone that cut through the verdant jungle as they ascended through the dense mist of the evening.

Eyes were on him.

He whirled around as the haunting call of the owl rent the silence of the night.

Silhouetted against the moonlit waters was the form of powerful man. He could tell that he was as unclothed as nature had created him. Yuis took a step backward, but the man ran forward and grabbed him. It was Felipe, but Yuis’s heart beat fast when he saw his long hair and the untamed look in his eyes. Felipe bent and kissed him. Yuis tried to pull away, but the heat from his kiss made his body remember what it felt like to have Felipe inside of him. He held Felipe tight and he could feel his throbbing erection on his belly. His passion escaped him in a moan of anticipation. Yuis’s fingers were buried in Felipe’s long hair and he arched his back as his tongue crept into his mouth.

Yuis pulled back to look at him, but he cried out in protest.

“Yuis, I must have you. It’s the will of our ancestors that our souls be forever joined.”

His ragged voice and the tension in his powerful frame made Yuis ache for him. The heat of his skin and the magic in this wild air uncoiled desire inside of him like he’d never known. He pulled Yuis down to the sand and kissed his neck. Felipe’s hands roamed over his body caressing him, making him scream out his name in longing. Ceaseless desire that was as endless and primal as the ocean exploded in Yuis’s head. He wanted more!

“Yuis.”

The word, spoken with such passion, seemed to fade, but it resonated within him as the dizziness came over him again.

Apparently deciding it was enough, they pulled me out of the water, bringing me to lay face down on a soft bench as another rich cottony towel rubbed me dry. Their touch not bad, if a bit harsh, thus my body reacted again with pleasure, but it wasn't until they started applying ointment with seductive strokes that I perceived the arousal pressing on my stomach. Embarrassed, I tried to keep it hidden, failing miserably because all three obviously noticed it and seemed to take extra pains to make it grow, not stopping at the mere surface, rather exploring every crevice. Moving from my shoulders downward, they massaged all the way to my butt, squeezing and slapping both buttocks until I couldn't feel them anymore, finally going as far as rimming my asshole with wet fingers that stirred an unknown desire. Soon after, a hot tongue made the rounds from the narrow opening to the balls while a hand gripped my cock tightly, sliding the skin forcefully to make it even harder.

I groaned, not knowing what to think. It was all too pleasurable, yet too sudden and embarrassing as well, to have men touching me like never before and to like it, too…well, it was a real surprise. And I knew I couldn't resist much longer either.

"Enough!" A harsh voice commanded at one point.

As if they were a single man, the three stopped pampering me and stood up, crowding me to cover the source of the voice I was trying to glimpse through half closed eyes.

"Leave!" At this order, they all started to move away when he called one back. "Wait, Kristioff. Untie his hair and dry it."

"Yes, Seigneuros."

I felt his rough handling remove my pin, the only worldly possession I treasured, and wet strands tumbled disorderly on my shoulders. Wrapping them in a towel, the man administered a series of vigorous friction, making my head shake from side to side.

"All right, now leave." Assertive in his tone, the Seigneuros indicated the staircase after he judged me ready.

In single file, I saw them leave, the sound of their feet shuffling on the first steps reaching my ears until I could hear nothing except the soft tide lapping the stone edges of the pool. And then I was alone with him.

Paralyzed by fear, I couldn't move or breathe. What he wanted from me seemed now clear enough, but I didn't know if I had the heart, or the stomach for that matter, to satisfy him, even if my family hung in the balance. But his slow pacing around my sprawled figure distracted me to the point I began wondering what he could be thinking while his gaze traveled over my every line and curve, which of course tensed me only more for I expected requests I wasn't familiar with, especially considering how little my experience was.

Instead, he surprised me by running his hand through my hair, down their length, closing his hand around the thick strands as if to feel the silky, luscious consistency. "You're right to be proud of such hair." He breathed softly as he sat next to me on the bench. "Even if you have no title to wear them."

"I didn't know there was a law against it." I scoffed defiantly, piqued at his comment.

"Not a written one, no, it's just good manners and you obviously have none."

"I do have manners!" Even more annoyed at this remark, I tried to turn my head to gaze straight in his eyes. "Just because I was brought up in a village doesn't mean--"

Pinning my shoulders to the bench, he pressed down on me, cutting off my words, not to mention my breath. "It means you're mine, little one, bought this morning for a hefty lump of gold and for my pleasure alone." His free hand slipped to my butt and I felt him center the hole at the end of the cleft.

This time though, I didn't intend to keep still while yet another one played with my ass, even if it was the Seigneuros in person. Raising my shoulders, with a violent shove I tried pushing him off my back, but hardly managed to move him. As if endowed with the strength of a bear, he resisted every one of my pitiful attempts until I was too exhausted to continue.

With one final heave, he immobilized me once more. "Had your fun?" He sneered in my ear. "Now it's my turn." Again, his fingers slid to my asshole, this time rimming its border sensually. "And this is my pleasure." Following his curt announcement, he stuck the same fingers in my mouth. "For your own sake, I suggest you make them thoroughly wet." And after I complied with a lavish suck, he resumed the slow circles on my narrow entrance, moistening it without dipping inside.

"I've never done it!" Embarrassed and ashamed, I wriggled to get free. "Really, Master, I'm no good in this kind--"

"Hush, little one, let me be the judge of that." Lightening his hold, Lord Brahany pulled back slightly. "And if I want to make it pleasurable for me, I'll have to make it for you, too." With an elegant swing, he ducked down to my rear, his long hair tickling all the way, and his hot tongue resumed the tantalizing rub I had already enjoyed thanks to his servants. Of course, he was much better, seemed more experienced, too, his wet attentions stimulating rather than just forcing their way into my tight opening. I loved the feel of the drenched tip caressing the borders before edging inside to enlarge the space that sucked it in effortlessly, almost as if it asked for more.

I had never done it myself to the girls I'd been with, all experienced enough to dispense with any particular incitement before opening their ass to a man's craving. But evidently, the Seigneuros had dealt with difficult cases, I realized as a flaming desire surged through my bloodstream each time he landed a well aimed tongue lash into my now hungry narrow hole. And unconsciously, I began to push up and sway my ass as a sort of unspoken required.

"Need something bigger?" Amused, he quickly discarded his robe to cover me stark naked.

Actually, I wasn't sure what I wanted. I only knew my cock was stone-hard, throbbing in anticipation on my stomach, smothered by the thick towel on which it lay, and my asshole contracted, then relaxed uncontrollably in a continuous tempo I couldn't stop.

Pushing his way to enter, I felt the tip of his erection penetrate the outer rim just as searing pain enflamed the hole. With a muffled cry, my butt slumped, trying to slide away from him despite his firm hold on my hips. "I know it hurts the first time." He whispered in my ear while easing the pressure on my behind. "But it'll pass soon if you trust me."

"Trust you? You're the one who's hurting me." I raised my voice angrily.

"A necessary pain." At this philosophical statement, his cock twitched in its twisted pleasure as it nudged the entrance again.

Had I wanted to escape, I couldn't have gotten very far considering the iron grip with which he held me, so he shoved once more, easily breaking through the entrance. This time though, it didn't hurt as much. I couldn't say it was a real pleasure, but my ass seemed to adapt to his shape slowly, finding more space for it as he fitted deeper--an inch at a time, stopping if I tensed, then resuming the moment I relaxed--until it held it entirely in its snug embrace.

In spite of my discomfort, I had to admire his learned slides, even going as far as to enjoy them after he begun thrusting in a way that my cock's skin slid, too, like someone was jerking it off. The more he accelerated, the faster the skin glided and rubbed on the silky towel, taking my excitement to a peak. And his obviously, for I heard him groan with pleasure just as something hot and dense shot up my ass.

Oddly enough, it didn't just feel like a man's usual fluid. Something else of an entirely different nature seemed mixed with it, a fiery ball that uncoiled from my butt to explode in my brain. Now, little one, do you understand what I need you for?

"Well? Whatdya think?"

Arte propped himself up on the pillows, his mouth gaped open. "My God, woman. Get over here." He tossed the sheets aside and patted the bed beside him.

Anita watched while he removed his briefs and handled his erection. "I've got something for you."

"Is that any way to talk to your wife?" she teased.

"You're right. I've been bad." He turned around so his ass was just within striking distance.

"You have." She spanked him hard and pulled out the handcuffs, holding them over her head. "Now put your hands up, mama's gonna have to arrest you now."

Arte flipped on his back and stretched his arms overhead. "Yes, Officer Shaw."

Anita jumped on the bed, straddling him and cuffed his wrists together. "There you go." She kissed his bare chest, starting from the base of his chin, slowly working her way down his neck, to his torso. She flicked each nipple with her tongue.

"Ahhhh," Arte sighed.

Thank God Emmy had told her what to do. Her younger sister had been married for a few years and was a world of help in the sexual advice department. "Like it?" She kept moving down until her mouth was wrapped around him, her tongue teased him into an even harder state. She reached her fist around his shaft, squeezing it tight and felt him harden even more.

"I want you now. Get on me," he begged.

"Not yet," she said with a full mouth. She slid her rounded lips over him, stroking him with her hand, rubbing her breasts on his hairy legs which teased her nipples.

Arte reached out to try and grab her shoulders, but couldn't move. "Hey!"

Anita laughed. "What's wrong? Someone having a little trouble there?"

"You're gonna be in trouble when I get out of these," he teased.

Leaning in to kiss his neck, Anita ran her hands down his torso, making him shiver. "Sounds good to me. Let me get the key." Straddling him, she reached to the nightstand, grabbed the key and twisted it in the lock on his right hand first.

He instantly slapped her bottom.

She squealed.

"I told you you'd be in trouble, didn't I?"

"Uh huh." She freed his other hand, leaned down on his chest and teased his nipple. "I've been a bad girl."

"So I heard." Flipping her on her back, he spread her legs and began returning the favor. He teased her clit with his tongue, dipping deep inside her every so often.

Arching her head back, Anita moaned as he licked her and teased her nipples with his free hand. Emmy had mentioned this to her, but she had no idea it could be so good. "Ahhhh."

"I want you." Propping himself up on one hand, Arte dipped forward, pumping himself with his free hand. He slid his cock's head on her wet opening. "Ready?"

The next evening, emotions carefully held in check, Gavin headed across the street. After knocking on the door, he turned to stare at the newly painted white fence, pretending to inspect it. The door opened behind him. Gavin knew Brooke stood there before turning. He could smell her. His pupils dilated as he breathed in her fresh, feminine scent mixed with lavender.

Schooling his features, Gavin turned to face her. My mate. Over the past couple days, he’d come to terms with the idea. Now he needed to confirm his suspicions. To do that, Gavin needed to get her into his bed. “Hello, Brooke,” he greeted smoothly.

“Hello, Mr. …” she paused, uncertain.

“Call me Gavin, otherwise, you’ll make me feel old.” He chuckled. That and he’d avoided using a last name for nearly a century. Tax purposes only. Her uncertain nod troubled him, so he looked to reassure. “Is your father home?”

“Not yet.”

His brown eyes glided over her form-fitting t-shirt. Giving her a charming smile, Gavin asked, “Any idea when he’ll get in?”

She shook her head. “He’s a policeman, so his hours can be strange.”

The news should have made him wary, instead it excited him. A true challenge. How do I steal a cop’s daughter?

Brooke’s words cut into his musings, “Is this about the painting? I do paint well, and I could use the extra money for college.”

Gavin held her gaze for a moment. His face showed none of his internal struggle as his blood heated from her nearness. “Name your price.” His voice came out huskier than intended.

Her brows shot up and Brooke smirked.

Forcing calm, Gavin crossed well-muscled arms over a broad chest. “You’re welcome to start whenever. Like I said, I work in a shop out back. If I don’t answer the door, come around.” He grinned. “And if anything turns up missing, a cop lives right down the street,” he teased.

Nodding, Brooke rolled her eyes. “I’m sure there’d be some other way to solve the problem without involving the police,” she said, batting her eyelashes playfully and resting a hand on his arm.

He smiled, his skin tingling from the contact, and he wanted more. “I’m sure we could come to some agreement.” He enjoyed the flirting of his mate. Taking a step away, he grinned back at her. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“It’s a date.”

He chuckled at the comment. Gavin felt Brooke’s gaze on him as he headed down her walk. A glance over his shoulder when he crossed the street showed him the appreciative look on her face. So she likes what she sees. Shutting his door, he made it to the bedroom this time before giving in to the need to relieve the ache in his shaft. He dropped back on the bed, unzipped his jeans and wrapped a fist around his twitching shaft. He grunted at the contact, loving the stimulation after so many years without it. His hips lifted and lowered as he shoved his dick through his hand. “Hell, yeah,” he groaned. Visualizing Brooke underneath him, moaning with pleasure as Gavin stroked them both to completion, Gavin’s balls drew tight, his body stiffened, and his cock pulsed. He shuddered as spurt after spurt of cum sprayed across his chest and abs. Not long now, he vowed. I’ll have Brooke soon.

Raya touched her naked skin, tracing the pink vine like marks on her thighs. She lay on the bed, naked, enjoying her new appearance. Her skin was very white with pink lines running the length of her in a strange pattern that was really no pattern at all. It reminded her of chaos, of nature.

No one seeing her now would recognize her as the spider creature that had helped Gershon escape Veris. She appeared much like a Goth Barbie with her pink and white hair and strange tattoo looking marks. Best of all, sunlight no longer hurt her. She could walk in the light and not fear the sun.

A strange chill filled the bedroom where she rested. It had to be Alard. Since her rebirth to something almost human, he spied on her. On occasion she caught his outline when she bathed. The steam would rise and mark his silhouette. Twice this week she could have sworn he had been in her bed. Each time she pretended not to notice and when she finally acknowledged him, he kept silent. It was a fun game they shared.

"Alard, what are you doing?"

He failed to answer.

She chose to explore this body further and torment the ghost-like man in the process. Raya spread her legs wide, touching the slit that grew moist whenever she knew Alard was near. It felt good. This body was far more sensitive than her old one. She silently thanked the vampire that stuck the silver coin in her leg and brought on this transformation.

The lips around her slit were bright pink with a bud in the center. She liked touching that part best, but she never touched it first. She enjoyed starting in other places until her skin tingled. There was more to her odd indulgence. Touching herself was never enough. She preferred to imagine Alard doing the touching.

 "What happened to the fire?" Cathy asked. "Did it suddenly go out?"

"Open your baby blues. We're not in the motel," Adam said.

Cathy looked around. They were in an office, but not their own. "How did we get here?"

"I'll be damned if I know. Last thing I remember is my body was on fire and it hurt like fucking hell."

"You don't look like you have any burns," Cathy said, glancing over Robert's naked body.

"Maybe it was all a bad dream," Adam suggested.

"Yeah, right. And we're still in the dream in a strange office."

"Good afternoon, gentlemen, madam." Someone entered the office and walked to the large oak desk.

Cathy gaped. The man had to be a hundred years old. A snowy beard almost reached his waist, as did a mane of snow-white hair. He wore a white robe tied at the waist with a silver cord.

"Cathy Whenero? Adam Falkner? Robert Buchanen?"

"Yes. What's this all about? Who are you?"

"Rob, it's a dream. Dammit, all that's missing are his wings for God's sake," Cathy said with a giggle.

"Please don't use the Lord's name in vain."

"Right. Sorry." This time Cathy burst out laughing.

"I fail to see the humor. You have arrived at mid-station, or as some call it, purgatory."

"Huh?" Adam's mouth fell open. "You mean we're dead?"

"Your Earthly bodies are dead, yes."

"So the fire was real."

"I'm afraid so. My name is Valerus. I have been assigned to your case."

"Our case?" Cathy asked.

"Yes. Before you can advance, you will have to do penance for the cruelties you inflicted upon others."

"What cruelties?"

"For instance the young couple who came to you in need."

"That's business. You can't have a soft heart when you're running a business for God's sake." Robert felt a searing pain attack his tongue as he uttered the blasphemy.

"Those young people needed your help and you turned away from them."

"They were a couple of druggies who talked about vampires. Give me a fucking break!" Adam shouted.

"They told the truth."

"How the hell were we supposed to know that?" Cathy asked. "What happened to them anyway?"

"The vampire killed the young man, then he killed the girl."

"And set the motel on fire?"

"The vampire broke into the office. But you were too busy satisfying your perverse carnal desires to hear anything. During the struggle, a candle fell. The motel burned to the ground. I'll show you what happened." With a graceful wave of his hand, a hologram appeared.

"My G…science fiction. Look at that," Cathy whispered.

The hologram was almost life size, causing them to feel as if they were there. They watched as a shadowy figure descended from above, landing just outside the old barn. Huge black wings disappeared and a naked man stretched his arms high. He swiveled several times giving them a full view. The man was beautiful. He was more than beautiful, he was perfection. Wide shoulders, narrow hips, a muscular body, a cock to drool over, Cathy noted. He had the most perfect face she'd ever seen. His skin was very pale, his long wavy hair was jet black, his eyes were as black as his hair.

The light flared in his eyes. “Ah, Dee! It will be a long time before I find another woman with your strength.”

“So why go looking?”

“I’m a vampire. My blood stirs.”

“And that explains it all?”

“It should.”

She flung herself up from the bed and padded across the marble floor, halting before him. Her taut nipples touched his rib cage. His erection pressed out to sear her stomach. She reached up and ran a finger through his jet hair, flicking a long strand back over his ear, smoothing it down his back, her nail scraping his skin. Deliberately drawing blood.

Laughing, he captured her hand, bringing it to his palm and gently licked, then bit, then licked again.

“Where will you go?” she whispered.

“Home.”

“To Cordoba? There’s nothing for you there, only a ruined castle!”

“I will rebuild it. I must do this.” His words were hollow, but she heard the nuance of deceit. The bastard was hiding something from her…something, or someone!

“Alone?”

He inclined his head.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

He smiled gently. “A man must always have secrets from his woman.”

“By your own admission, I am no longer your woman.” She paused. “Cristóbal…”

He put a finger to her lips. “Don’t. When you speak my name, I’m powerless.”

“Then I’ll hold you prisoner. Come here.” She tugged him and they fell onto the bed in a tangle of arms and legs. He plunged into her, a sudden and deep fuck, of need. Flesh taken and being taken—no gentle lover’s caress. No, this was for possession, to each claim the other. To bring pleasure amid the pain.

Even as she kissed and fondled him, hers a desperate loving, the resolve hardened within her. She would show this bastard what he was rejecting. He had taught her so much, but now the student would become the teacher.

He had entered her life as master, demanding, making the rules, but she knew his game, knew how to make her own rules, play her own game, make him suffer.

“On your back, Cristóbal.”

“When you take that tone with me, it is so exquisite!” Laughing gently, he acquiesced and lay with his arms and thighs widespread, his hair fanning around him like a black silk cape.

“I aim for beyond exquisite.” She knelt between his legs and lay over him.

“Ah…Madre Dios!”

Artemis bent over the stranger. It was daylight on this world, and she could see he was in a pitiable state. She thought he would probably die within a few minutes. He had fought the monsters bravely, but with nothing more than a staff, he'd had no chance. And she'd had no reason to come.

She had answered the bidding of a male.

 Males were the enemy from which Amazon Mercies were sworn to protect their sisters. Males were aggressors, destroyers, and the pillagers of innocence. Every day on a hundred worlds, males seized women, violated their bodies and broke their spirits. Not all males were bad, but enough were evil to keep the Mercies busy. Sworn virgins, they turned their backs on all emotion save the all-encompassing sympathy for sisters in distress. Male acquaintances, even blood-related, were barred from a Mercy's life. Males were the enemy. And Artemis had defended one from an attack he had probably deserved.

 "Malediction!" she said crossly. She didn't know what to do. If the bidder had been a sister, she would have offered her immediate succor and perhaps a new location on Alida. That wouldn't do for a male. She would be reviled, and he would be put down without question as soon as his presence was discovered. To the best of Artemis' knowledge, no male had ever landed on Alida, and no boy child had ever been born there.

 Artemis sighed. Perhaps he was dead already. That would be best. She bent again, touching his brow. He was crumpled and filthy, and her nose wrinkled at the stench of the open wound on his thigh. It bled sluggishly, which should have cleansed it, but there seemed to be a sickening in the blood. His brow was clammy and cold, and she jerked her hand away. He was dead, or nearly, but as she straightened, his half-closed eyelids lifted and a pair of eyes, as blue as skylilies, met hers. They were dazed with pain and weakness, but there was a remarkable strength in their depths. The eyelids dropped and his body, which had stiffened against his terrible pain, relaxed.

 He was dead. Her obligation was extinguished. It had been for nothing.

Artemis turned her attention to the scattered, smoking remains of the brutes that had killed the stranger. She nudged one with the toe of her sandal, noting the rigid skin and the livid purplish red of the flesh. The heads were rimmed with bone and covered with scales, the mouths were fanged, and the hands and feet were clawed. Their huge, aggressive-looking genitals, usually coiled for safekeeping, were slack in death. They were males, of course. Daemons always were.

 Daemons. She wrinkled her nose. Daemons lived to kill and steal. They tortured their victims by injecting acid into wounds, an acid that sent the most Spartan of beings into a frenzy of self-destruction. Karvallian lionfolk, the bravest of the brave, had been known to gnaw off a limb that had been touched with daemonic acid.

 With a powerful punt of her foot, she tipped the nearest corpse over the lip of the cliff. The others were too far away to be treated similarly so she looked for a lever. The dead man's staff looked sturdy enough. She had to pry it loose from his grip, and as she touched his skin, she felt a pang of regret. Suddenly, his fingers moved, weakly but surely, to clutch her hand.

 His flesh was icy. He should have been dead. The Daemons stank, and she had no business here.

 "Hexes!" she muttered as the fingers clutching hers tightened in a spasm of agony. Not even a male deserved the pain he suffered. She must pretend he was a sister and offer him the easing of his passing.

 "Mercy is thine," she said, and fumbled with one hand in her pouch for the narcotic spray. Strange how the Amazon Mercies still used the ancient formula alongside synthetic medicines. Not that they had eschewed old ways completely. During Artemis' training, Maeve had shown her alternatives to be used on the many worlds, which frowned on modern ways.

"A Mercy uses the best there is," said Maeve. "If that is unavailable, she uses the best she has."

Artemis drew forth the spray and thumbed the dial to the right. One notch eased moderate pain while two helped severe pain. Three soothed broken bones and dislocations, and four numbed advanced cancers.

 Five brought a painless death.

 "Mercy is thine," she said again and clicked the dial to the final notch. Her left hand was unpracticed, but her right was imprisoned in that ice-cold clasp. He was strong, even in extremity. He should have been dead already.

 She brought the narcotic close. She had only to find the vein in his wrist, just below his intricate wristband. One quick touch and he would be out of his agony for good. But somehow, she couldn't bring herself to hasten his death. She thumbed the dial back two notches.

 "My will is weak," she murmured and injected the dose.

 It wasn't enough to bring true relief, but after a time his pain-racked body relaxed. He gave a small sigh, and Artemis tried to withdraw her hand. His clasp grew stronger and when she tugged on his hand, he opened his eyes. She found herself mesmerized by the intensity of his gaze. His long hair, the hue of bronze, fell over his shoulders, half-veiling his face. She smoothed it away with her left hand and looked into his face.

 His face was broad with high and slanting cheekbones. Despite the mature lines of his body, he was probably little older than Artemis. His lips moved weakly, but she could not make out the words. Perhaps he wanted immediate death.

 "I'll not refuse your need," she said gently. Her heart swelled with pity as he tried again to speak. This time, the words were audible but still incomprehensible.

 This world, whatever it was called, did not use Galactic Standard speech. Artemis raised her left hand to her diadem and pressed the translator band. The dying male murmured again. He seemed to be asking a question, but the translator merely blurred and shifted the syllables. It was obviously glitzing again.

 Again he asked his question. Perhaps he wanted to know if he would die.

"Were you prepared for this bloodbath? Isn't the mighty hunter afraid of what I've become?" I sneered, trying to offend him so he'd fulfill my death wish.

With a sudden lurch forward, Rory pinned me to the ground. "Hardly, lover," he mused. "I'm impressed." Pressing harder, he breathed on my neck. "This means I'm not going to kill you either, not yet anyway."

I struggled to break free. "No! You must!" I shouted. "You don't understand. I get this dream, had it forever it seems, the night our women are sliced up and I'm the one--"

"Hush, lover." He tightened his hold. "I know all about your bloody nightmare."

"What?" Taken aback, I went limp and stared wide-eyed at his grave features.

"That's right, lover." He pulled back a little to give me more breathing space. "In spite of your dream, you're no beast or killer for that matter, rather the one that attracts them. Hasn't anyone ever said you cast a shadow--"

"A bloody shadow," I mumbled, unable to silence the echoes from the past anymore. Years had passed since Korax had told me of his fears and to be honest, I hadn't given it much weight until lately, believing it had been an old man's coward excuse, rather than a truth others could perceive, too. Hearing the hunter speak of the same bloody shadow drained my body from all its heat. Does this mean you'll leave me, too? I wanted to ask. Am I cursed to be alone? "Korax said it, but I thought he meant it in a negative way. Or at least he used it as an excuse to leave me."

Rory shook his head. "He left because he couldn't handle it. As a Druid, he can recognize such energy, but not control it. And yours, if unbridled, is extremely dangerous." His voice rose above the fire crackle. "To work properly, it needs a human skill to direct it, which your Korax lacked."

"While you have it?"

A funny look crossed his eyes, the same I'd caught other times before. "I have the training to handle the same beasts you call to you."

"You became my second skin…" I mused, remembering the incredible experience.

The hunter grinned. "Maybe that's why I'm always trying to get in your ass." His lips crashing on mine cut off any further conversation. I didn't think it was strange he'd kiss me. I simply opened my mouth and sucked his tongue in as if it were his hard cock. He soon got free so my tongue flew at him, trying to grab his again, battling fiercely in a pretense war I never hoped nor wanted to win. Surrender felt blissful, to lay down my offense and let him sweep the conquered territory was a cock-wrenching pleasure I had learned to treasure.

My shaft wasn't the only interested party to exhibit this reaction, Rory's considerable thickness stirring into vigorous life, its hardness soon digging at my side. I longed to taste it so my hand fumbled to take it out of its confinement, but he wanted something more. Raising up, he turned around, one hand taking his shaft out to plunge it in my open mouth while his head came above my crotch. Busy swallowing his cock, I almost jumped when his mouth found my bulge anyway, his tongue wrapping around the bursting head. At that point, I didn't know where I felt the most pleasure, if from his mouth-watering erection pressing down to my throat or from his warmth enfolding my enflamed equipment. I nearly choked every time he pushed down, his aim designed to get as deep as possible despite my tongue's blocking attempts. Yet, I never dreamed to stop the sensual game, especially since my cock drowned in his wetness, my hips moving to keep the same rhythm he had set for his shoves. And it was only a matter of minutes before we both couldn't resist the tide and flooded our open cavities with hot, bittersweet seed.

Permission granted, still a lifetime training hampered Patris’s movements so he entered hesitantly the sacred area, walking fast to reach its center and kneel next to Mylos’s naked form. “Master, there is a woman to see you. She has a…an offering with her.”

“How long since she came?”

“Well, Master, we had to look for you so she’s been waiting for a while.”

“Good.” Mylos’s hand grabbed Patris’s neck and pushed him down on his belly. “I’m sure she won’t mind waiting a little longer.”

Knowing exactly what his Master wanted, Patris opened his warm mouth, positioning it over the tip of the erection straining in front of his face. How long the Blood Divine had been like that, he had no idea, although he was sure of the remedy to release his Master’s tension. Without wasting more time, Patris’s hot cavity enveloped the bulging head and swallowed it. His tongue lashed out to curl around its thickness, sliding on the entire length in long, wet laps that covered each side. Hard sucks soon followed, tentative at first as if unsure on how to go about it. Hard, then more forcefully as he drew the cock further inside. He felt it strain against the confined space, hitting cavity enveloped the bulging his cheek and palate before hovering on the brink of the throat fall.

In an attempt to fight him off, Patris breathed deeper and almost choked on it. Quick as lightning, it had inserted in the even tighter space available, trying to slide all the way down. Managing to keep it a bay was the start of a new game as his tongue wrapped around the stone-like shaft, traveling seductively from top to bottom, his head bobbing along with the movement, partly controlled by Mylos’s continued hold on his neck. He knew his Master wanted him to step up the rhythm so he had no choice but to comply. Using also his hands, he increased his lapping, sucking harder than before, uncaring if he choked, but coughing liberally if he could not resist…anything to please his Master.