“She likes it,” Izzy told him.
Izzy misunderstood. Nanae didn’t think Izzy was hurting her. He wanted to be the one to force that sound from his Sinnis. Seeing another’s hands on her was both arousing and infuriating. Maybe he could mitigate the latter feeling if he involved himself more, but he could not do so yet and have them both come out unscathed. He was simply too hungry to be gentle. “Bring her to the bed.”
Izzy carried her to the bedroom without question. It seemed Nanae’s commands had the exact same effect on him as they did on her.
“Put her on her back. Wrap her legs around your hips. Lean over her, elbows on either side of her head.” Nanae’s voice was low and resonated through Izzy’s body, compelling it to do the Guardian’s bidding. Camilla’s shoulders were held in place by his elbows, allowing him to penetrate deeply. “Yes, trap her. Cage our little bird.”
Israel pressed his torso against Camilla’s, compressing her chest, making it hard for her to breathe. She panted and struggled, but it was a hoax. She enjoyed every bit of this. She turned her head to look at Nanae. The low oxygen made her vision fuzzy and triggered her climax, which triggered Izzy’s.
Spent, Israel pulled out and plopped down on his back beside Camilla. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the afterglow. She felt the bed dip as Nanae lay down perpendicular to them, taking up more than his half of the king-sized mattress. Nobody said anything for a few minutes, then Camilla began to sing quietly. Israel had known it was coming, but Nanae was new to postcoital Camilla and her heavenly voice.
Because you come to me with naught save self,
And hold me tight, gripping mine chin, lifting mine,
A world of hope and pleasure I see in thine,
Because you belong to me.
Naught because of your tender conversations,
I find myself engulfed in sweet sensations.
When you take me in your arms, I am enchanted,
Because my wildest dream is granted.
I cherish thee, through dark and light.
Being held by you feels so right,
You make our love divine,
Because you are mine.
I am yours for all time’s abyss.
With gentle ropes called love, you bind me,
I find in being bound to whose kiss
can wipe away tears all, not some,
My freedom.
Izzy lifted his head and scooted so that his head and shoulders rested on Nanae’s taut, tan tummy. Nanae rubbed his fingers over Israel’s temple, brushing through the soft black-brown hair until Camilla finished her song. She turned over to lie on her stomach and rested her cheek on Nanae’s thigh. Both men looked at her. Izzy caught her eye and glanced at the cock lying on Nanae’s stomach between them. A contagious smile crept over his face and spread to hers. She knew what he wanted and wanted it too. Concurring without speaking, she moved up, and he turned his head.
Nanae made a rumble low in his throat, much lower than most men could accomplish, when Izzy took him in his hand. He pulled the foreskin back, exposing the smooth head, which he then rubbed on Camilla’s face. He used it to trace her eyebrows, nose, cheekbones and along her jaw. Every muscle in Nanae’s body tensed, and Camilla didn’t know if it was because he wanted them to stop or desperately wanted them not to stop. She licked her lips when Izzy brought the broad head near her mouth. A pearlescent drop appeared at the tip, and her mouth watered.
“No, that’s mine,” Izzy said. His tongue snaked out and flicked the drop away before his lips wrapped around the head.
Camilla groaned at the same time as Nanae and Izzy. How amazing it felt and tasted was written all over their faces. When Israel’s eyes came back into focus, he moved Camilla’s head so that she could join him in his exploration of Nanae’s colossus cock. Izzy traced the ridge and the sensitive part right below it with the tip of his own tongue. Camilla gave some attention to his balls and drew designs on the underside of the shaft. Israel dropped down and kissed Camilla, with Nanae’s penis in the middle. Their lips and tongues danced and fought around it, traveling up and down its length.
“Enough, my beauties. This night is not about my pleasure.”
“Being with Camilla means knowing what brings her pleasure. Look at her face, Nanae. She’s doing this every bit as much for herself as she is for you. And I think with three of us, there is plenty of pleasure to go around.” That was Izzy for you, always confident.
“No,” was Nanae’s reply. “You must go again.”
“Again? I just…” Izzy looked to Camilla for help, but he got none. She just smiled and nodded. She pulled her knees under her, poking her ass up in the air, keeping her cheek pressed against Nanae’s shaft. She looked mischievously at Israel, then rocked forward and back, making soft noises as she did. “Camilla, I want you so bad when you make that noise, but seriously people—I’m gonna need a little recovery time before I can go again.”
Nanae spoke a few words of his undecipherable language as he traced around Izzy’s nipple with a finger, then down his stomach. He slid his giant palm over Izzy’s cock, and it jumped to life. Israel made a sound like someone punched him in the gut. His intake of breath was slow and jagged as Nanae moved his meaty hand back to Izzy’s head. “Shit! What was that?!”
“His magic. What did it feel like?” Camilla asked. Izzy liked to talk about sex almost as much as he liked to have it. It was one of the things about him that turned her on so much. He was uninhibited, and she loved the way he said all the hot, nasty thoughts that popped into his head.
Izzy’s eyes were crazed as he tried to answer her. “I-I—don’t know.” Rendering Izzy speechless was quite the accomplishment.
“I believe the lady asked what it felt like.” There was a murmuring underlying Nanae’s voice. He was saying two things at once. English to them and an incantation to Izzy’s body.
“It was terribly pleasant and wonderfully painful. I wanted it to stop in equal parts to never wanting it to end. Every fuck I’ve ever had was wrapped around my cock all at once. I was in the middle of cumming, but there was no end in sight. Like I could die and not even notice.”
“Would you like him to do it again?” she asked. Izzy’s nipples got hard as he opened his mouth to reply, but the thought of the Guardian’s hand on him again stole his breath. He nodded.
Nanae’s focus flashed on Camilla. “You want this as well?”
His voice was so masculine, it wasn’t like a voice at all, really. It was more like boulders grinding together in his throat, which his mouth and tongue then formed into words.
Nanae traced a finger across Camilla’s pale pink lips. She opened her mouth without being told and allowed him to slip inside. He explored a bit and then dropped the moistened finger to Israel’s brown nipple.
He pinched and pulled and plucked it in a way that left Izzy speechless. Again. Izzy had never been one for much nipple play, but this man was a master. Israel could barely breathe—forget about speaking—as Nanae’s adept appendage trailed down his abdomen.
Israel was glad he was turned so Camilla couldn’t see his face. Only Nanae saw the mixture of fear and desire in his eyes as they fluttered, reflecting his difficulty breathing. It was embarrassing what the Guardian could do to him. He wanted to please the blond giant but had never felt less sure of himself. Confidence was a turn-on for Camilla, and he wouldn’t have her see him hesitate. He’d been with men and women, but never anyone like Nanae.
Nanae licked his thumb and forefinger and did to Camilla’s nipple what he’d done to Izzy’s. Hers was much more sensitive. He memorized every detail of that breast. He planned to spend the coming months worshiping at the altar of her body, claiming every inch as his own. He stroked that holy areola for less than ten seconds before Izzy yelled, “Fuck! I’m gonna cum!”
“Wait,” Nanae demanded, and Israel did his best to obey.
Camilla knew he didn’t want to waste a single drop. She straddled Izzy, sliding down ar
ound him just in time.
Izzy gripped her hips and lifted her up and almost off of him. She saw an opportunity and took it. Her tongue swiped across Nanae’s penis, catching another drop before Israel brought her back down, planting himself deep. Camilla couldn’t decide which was more stimulating, Izzy’s hot seed hitting her cervix or the taste of that one drop of Nanae. She liked blow jobs. She even liked swallowing. But this was different. Nanae tasted of power, magic, love, life.
“You guys made me a two-pump chump.”
Camilla laughed. It was a light tinkering like tiny bells. Maybe she was a pixie fairy. She kissed Izzy, then took the wedge-shaped pillow from Nanae and, letting Izzy slip from inside her, lay down beside him and slipped it under her hips. She was getting pregnant and perfectly willing to use any advantage she could, gravity included. She lifted her legs and pointed her toes at the ceiling.
“Chickadee, you taste like cum. But, is it Nanae’s or mine? I seriously came so hard, I wouldn’t be surprised if you had tasted it. Shit, I wouldn’t be surprised if your sister had tasted it.”
Again, the fairy laugh. “That doesn’t even make sense, Izzy.”
“I know, Chickadee, but I’m not exactly thinking straight. I’ve never cum so hard in my whole life. I may never recover. This guy’s got some kind of magic fingers.”
It was Nanae’s turn to laugh. It was as different from Camilla’s as humanly possible and then some. It rumbled out and sounded like more machine than man when he spoke. “You will make a full recovery. I am glad you enjoyed it, friend. Now, do it again.”
“Are you crazy, dude? I can’t.”
Nanae made a big show of cracking his knuckles and then wiggling his fingers. “Do not worry. Just lean back and let me show you what magic these fingers are really capable of.”
Camilla woke with Nanae spooning her back. He was so much larger than her that it was laughable. She and Israel had shared half of the bed, while Nanae took up the other half. She couldn’t remember ever having slept better than she had between those two men. She also couldn’t remember ever having a better sex session than she had with those two men. It was a marvel that she could remember so many details when her mind had been so completely blown away. Israel and Nanae had played her body like an instrument—an instrument that one man could play, but was obviously built with two musicians in mind. She smiled at the thought and tried to slip away from Nanae.
She made it about half an inch.
“Good morning, my beauty. Are you sore?”
She nodded yes, then no. He could heal any ailment with hardly a thought, but she wanted to savor it for a while. It was the good kind of sore. She tried again to slide away, making it farther this time. She sat up, dangling her legs over the edge for a split second before Nanae was there, hand extended to her. She took it, let him help her up and dropped it. She walked to the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Well, she tried to close the door.
Nanae stood there unapologetically. He shrugged. “When you asked me to do this, I told you that to keep your own ability at bay, I would have to remain close at all times.”
She hadn’t thought he meant this close—go-to-the-bathroom-together close. She made a motion that he should turn around at least. She couldn’t be expected to pee with him staring at her. It was going to be a hard forty weeks with no privacy whatsoever. But she could think of worse situations than being in forced cohabitation with the sexiest creature alive.
When she finished, she washed her face and hands. Nanae was there waiting with a hand towel. She squeezed by him and back into the bedroom. Her dress lay in tatters. Nanae was in just his jeans and offered her his T-shirt. It was huge, swallowing her whole. His neck was as big as her waist. She tried several ways and had to settle for wearing it with one shoulder exposed. It was the only way she could keep it on. Longer than her dress had been, it reached her knees.
Nanae opened the bedroom door for her, and she followed her nose into the kitchen. Israel was there wearing only boxer briefs. “Nice look, Chickadee. Very Flashdance. Sleep well? I did, that’s for damn sure. I hope you guys are hungry.” He slid an omelet out of a giant pan and onto a slightly smaller plate. He set it on the table in the breakfast nook and turned to the fridge. “After a night like that, all I want are eggs. Not that I’ve ever had a night quite like that before, but you know what I mean. I’ve got a roll of biscuits in the fridge if you want more than protein for breakfast. Won’t take fifteen minutes to bake ’em up.”
Camilla shook her head.
“No, thank you, Israel. She does not talk very much, does she?” Nanae asked. This was an acknowledgment that Israel knew Camilla better than he, but it was said in a pleasant manner, as if to put Israel at ease about the fact.
“No, she doesn’t. Especially before her morning cup-a-joe.” He smiled at them and pointed her to the coffee maker. “I don’t touch the stuff, though I’m the only person I know who doesn’t. I only have two chairs. Sorry.”
Nanae sat in the one closest to the coffee and pulled Camilla onto his lap. “No apology necessary.”
She took a loud sip from her mug and let out a long sigh before serving herself two-thirds of the omelet. She slid the plate with the remainder over in front of the other chair.
Izzy brought a pitcher of orange juice to the table and sat in that chair. He poured three glasses and guzzled one down and refilled it before jumping into his eggs. He gestured toward the other two glasses and Nanae shook his head. “It’s better if I don’t start. I find that once I do, it is impossible to stop.”
“I hear that. I worked up a mighty thirst last night. I may never get enough to drink.” Israel raised his glass to Nanae and then drained it. He drained Nanae’s too. “You did as much as me. You’ve gotta be hungry. I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but I make a mean cheese omelet.”
Camilla broke her morning silence. “He’s right. It’s to die for.”
Nanae opened his mouth to protest, and she shoved in a forkful. Camilla and Israel went on eating, completely unaware of the food’s effect on their breakfast partner. He considered spitting it out but did not want to offend the father of Camilla’s future child. Plus, after having it on his tongue, he didn’t want to spit it out. It had been hundreds of years since last he’d eaten human food, and he didn’t remember it being this delicious or filled with prana. He chewed slowly, feeling the Hunger rise.
“Normally, it would be ham and cheese, but Camilla doesn’t eat meat. Most of the girls here don’t.”
Camilla was ready with another bite for him, and he took it. He had to. The Beast had had a taste and would make things very uncomfortable if it didn’t get proper feeding. Camilla and Israel had no idea how dangerous it had just gotten in this small kitchen. Israel continued his easy banter, and Camilla fed the remaining eggs to Nanae, both blissfully unaware that a monster now sat at their table. That monster was going to need prana very soon from one or both of them. He was having trouble with the logistics of it now with the Hunger on him. Israel’s semen was needed for getting pregnant, likewise pulling prana from the crux of life would lessen Camilla’s chances. It had to be blood then, but only a little from each. He didn’t want to weaken them. The Beast roared. It wanted blood, but not just a little.
Israel was speaking to him but Nanae missed the beginning of what he said. “…soon will we know? I mean those pee sticks don’t work for a few weeks, right?”
Nanae tightened the leash on his Beast enough to speak. “I will know within hours.”
Camilla said, “If it’s okay with you, we’ll just stay here for a few days. That way—”
“That way you can have twenty-four-hour access to the baby maker? Got it. Three-day three-way love fest at Izzy’s.” He pushed his empty plate away and stood. “You always teased me about the king-sized bed, but now I bet you’re glad I have it. I’m not sure we could all fit in anything smaller.”
Without a word, Nanae stood, bringing Camilla up with him. He carried her
back toward the bedroom.
“I need a shower before round two, guys,” Israel called after them.
“No.”
“More like round five by my count. I could use a shower too, Nanae,” Camilla said.
“No. I must feed first.”
Izzy followed them back into the bedroom. What the hell had they been doing in the kitchen if it wasn’t eating? He certainly wasn’t going to argue if those two wanted to go again. Who could pass on the best sex in the world when it was happening in their own bed?
NANAE SAT in the bedroom chair. It was as far from Israel and Camilla as he could get and still be in the same room with them. Elbows on his knees, he held his head in his hands, his long hair creating a blond curtain around his face. He couldn’t look at them. He couldn’t believe what was happening to him. He couldn’t believe what he had done. He couldn’t bear the thought of how they must be looking at him, like he was a monster.
He was a monster. He was the Hunger Beast. He had set on them like an Akhkharu, all trace of Nanae gone. Not gone, but so far down that he could only watch the Beast’s actions from the deep kennel where normally it existed. On a river of their blood, he had floated back to the surface to find them almost dead. He had spent too much of his own prana last night in their lovemaking, with no one to replenish him.
Camilla had healed her own wounds, refusing his blood. The First had told the women how dangerous it was to exchange blood with a Guardian, but she had made a promise to keep Nanae fed. Those were the terms of their agreement, and she wanted this baby more than anything. She would keep her end of the bargain. She had provided, but she couldn’t make her body produce more blood. Nanae had done that with a mere touch of the hand as he saw to Israel’s much nastier wound. Nanae treated it with his own blood—a show of trust and admiration, a gift of thanks for the human’s sacrifice.
He had fed from the man first, rightfully fearing that he would not be able to control the Beast enough to be gentle. The bite marks and rough tears in Izzy’s throat and shoulder had instantly bruised a deep purple. Camilla had said nothing, just sat there waiting her turn looking completely unafraid. Strange that he had found the man’s blood just as delicious as his Sinnis’s. Had he been so long without giving in to temptation that all blood was that sensational?
The Magic Number Page 2
