Darker Nights

by Nan Comargue

  Delia roamed her hands over his still-covered chest, trying to get inside his shirt, sneaking her fingers in to touch the marble-like skin, to toy with the pale spiked nipples. Her hands sporadically froze in place as he found a new place and she strained her hips to prolong the exquisite contact. Finally Caleb broke his rhythm completely to tear off his shirt, giving her complete access to his muscled torso.

  Arching up, Delia could not resist putting her small teeth against his skin and biting down on the firm, cool surface. She nipped him everywhere before she finally settled on one blunt nub, drawing it into her mouth to mimic the way he’d fed from her.

  The movement seemed to drive Caleb wild because he soon reached down and wrestled her backward onto Mark’s waiting body. His hips pounded his long, hard cock into her, building up friction that threatened to make her crazy.

  Delia was lost. She could do nothing more than hold onto him and feel. Feel his cock inside her. Feel Mark’s fingers tugging at her turgid nipples. Feel both their mouths scrambling for her neck once more.

  They bent over her, licking and sucking the trickles of blood from her throat, while Caleb fucked her into oblivion.

  Her pussy grew hotter as his coldness grew. She was on fire for him. Her veins burned with pleasure, threatening to rupture within her body.

  They all froze. Then Caleb’s body rocked hard against hers. He pumped ice into her pussy, and she soaked it up greedily, coming and coming as her body jerked and shuddered between the two immortal stallions.

  “You were right,” one of the men said to the other. “She’s the one. That fuck just proved it.”

  Delia smiled as tiredness overcame her. She agreed. That was some incredible sex.

  Once-in-a-lifetime sex.

  Chapter Three

  “Hey,” Henry called from the door to Delia’s office. “Got some time for a quick update on that file we were talking about earlier?”

  Delia glanced at her phone. Seven o’clock. Time to head home—or, more accurately, to visit her father. Home was even more lonely than the respite care facility.

  “Come on,” Henry insisted, his eyes shifting from one part of her office to another, “it’ll only take a minute. I booked a conference room.”

  “Why do we need—?” Delia gave up halfway through the question. Presumably either of their offices were large enough to host a ‘quick update’ but perhaps he was only lying and wanted to have a full-blown strategy session, complete with a couple of juniors and a few clerks thrown in for good measure.

  She grabbed a pad of paper on the way out of her office and almost dropped it as she stepped into the meeting room.

  Pleasantly, there wasn’t a full complement of staff waiting for the benefit of her legal expertise. Less pleasantly, two of the firm’s former clients were there.

  Mark Lyons and Caleb Jennings.

  “Oh, hello,” Delia said foolishly, turning to see Henry step smartly back out of the room and shut the door after him.

  At least now she didn’t have to be polite.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded. She was no longer tired. She was pissed off—and wondering how awful she looked after a long day spent at a desk, trying not to think of these very same two males.

  Mark stepped forward, his movements lithe like the werewolf he was.

  “You know what we want, Delia.”

  She shook her head. “No, we’ve gone through this before. It was an incredible night—”

  “Nights,” Caleb corrected her smoothly.

  How could she forget?

  “Nights,” she amended, “but it’s over now. We all knew what we were getting into.”

  “A few quick fucks and ‘thank you kindly, ma’am’?” Mark asked with a mocking smile. “It was more than that and you know it.”

  A tumult of images flashed through her head. She’d agreed to meet them the night after the club. They’d taken turns fucking her in the alley behind the opera house, which had probably never seen such lowbrow entertainment before. She remembered her bare breasts bouncing in the cool air as she’d wrapped her legs around their slim hips and rode their cocks, one after the other.

  Then the day after that, at a private party. They’d spent over an hour on the top floor balcony, Delia bent over the railing while Caleb had screwed her from behind. Then she’d knelt before Caleb, sucking his cock hungrily while she’d bounced up and down on Mark’s big dick.

  Then, that last night—when they’d had no plans—they’d spent the entire time in Mark and Caleb’s penthouse, an enormous unit on the top floor of the highest residential building in the city. It was made up of two apartments connected by several doors that often, they claimed, remained shut against each other.

  That evening the doors had been thrown open and the blackout blinds that protected the apartment during the day retracted to let in the bright moonshine from a full moon.

  They’d fucked as if they had the entire century in which to do it, shifting from room to room, stopping to talk when they got tired and sometimes just resting against each other in silence.

  Mark and Caleb had fed off her nipples, laving them with the analgesic of their saliva before biting down, cutting her minutely and drinking from the bounty of her breasts. Then, when they’d been finished, Caleb had sliced open his palm and offered her the blood pooling in his cupped hand.

  Delia had refused and walked out.

  She hadn’t seen either of them since.

  Delia shook her head, fighting the memories. “I don’t want any more than that,” she told them. “I don’t want to drink from you. To become like you.”

  The two males exchanged glances.

  It was Caleb who spoke, quietly and reasonably, “You don’t have to become like either of us to be with us. We’ve discussed it. We can accept that.”

  “No, you can’t.” She bit her lip. “Neither can I.”

  “Why not?” It was Mark who had asked the question, sounding very serious. His dark eyes looked more shadowed with bags under them.

  Are those shadows because of me? Oh, they almost sound like they really care about me! But she knew how immortals could be. How convincing they could be, even without making any of the declarations that might irrevocably bind them.

  Delia looked away, out of the window at the deepening night. “You don’t want to see me grow older every year while you stay the same. You won’t want to fuck me ten, twenty, thirty years from now.”

  Didn’t they understand how strange it was to be a Darker? How bizarre it was to have clients who mentioned your grandfather and great-great-great-grandfather in the same breath, as if they were all contemporaries—which, indeed, he and both of them might have been?

  She was a Darker, bred to live and die and spend the in-between time serving her immortal clients. They were the clients, Mark and Caleb. There was no breaching that divide.

  “We’re meant to be together!” Caleb burst out, his blue eyes blazing. “I felt it that first time, in one of these dreary offices. Tell me you didn’t feel it too—then or later on. But you felt it. You can’t deny it!”

  It all poured out of him then, the legends of the old ways, of the immortals who’d existed at the dawn of time. Of the one true mate who belonged to each immortal being. A mate they, having turned on the same day, shared. They, who were closer than any two other creatures because of that bond. They were brothers for eternity and she was their mate.

  But Delia didn’t believe in one true mate. And she certainly didn’t believe that hers were a vampire and a werewolf.

  She was a Darker. She served immortals. She didn’t become one.

  She was shaking her head even before Caleb had finished. “I don’t subscribe to those views,” she told him primly. Then she ran a hand through her hair, forgetting that it was done up in its usual chignon. “I-I don’t even want to know about any of this.”

  Caleb started to open his mouth but Mark stopped him with a raised hand.

  “You h
eard her,” said Mark. “She doesn’t want to know. She doesn’t believe—and she sure as hell doesn’t fucking care. Why else would she have put us through all this?”

  A sudden rush of heat stung her cheeks. “All what?” she demanded to know. “What have I put you through?”

  She was the boring lawyer. She didn’t hurt people. Not only because she didn’t possess the right temperament but because she’d been hurt before, lead on then discarded as if she wasn’t worth the effort of a goodbye, so she knew how much damage it caused.

  When Mark turned to face her, there was the faintest of smiles on his face. He knew he’d pushed a button for her.

  “You love us,” he said softly, his black eyes holding hers and watching as they widened. “You’ve told us in every way there is—except with your lips.”

  The heat in her cheeks became a bonfire. How dare he!

  How does he know?

  Just having them in the same room was an irresistible temptation. The three of them weren’t meant to stand around, hurling hurtful accusations at each other, but were supposed to be in each other’s arms. On the table. On the floor. Fucking.

  “That connection…” Caleb told her, closing the distance between them. “You’ve already admitted that you felt it that first night. Why won’t you admit how deeply it goes?”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to tell them that it was nothing more than the physical attraction—her need for their coldness inside her—but the words remained unspoken.

  Those words would be a lie.

  She loved them. Caleb and Mark. Mark and Caleb. Two sides of the same pattern—a pattern that completed hers, that picked up where she left off. With them, she could be wild because she knew that she was safe in their arms. With them, she could finally be free.

  “I-I—”

  She couldn’t speak yet they seemed to know what she was trying to say.

  Mark moved first—pounced really, with a ferocious hunger that was all his own. He claimed her body, his hands moving over the territory he’d already explored so many times in the past month, but his greed was not satiated. He tore at their clothes, letting them fall into an untidy heap on the floor. Mark’s skin was olive and thickly matted with hair, his underlying muscles taut beneath her fingers.

  He kissed her face, her mouth, her neck, Nicking her. Cutting her own along now healed scars, drinking from her.

  Then it was Caleb’s turn. He was more measured. He even remembered to lock the door before he joined them.

  Caleb moved with grace, slow and relentless. But his hunger was there too in the way he lowered his head to her lips to drink from them, then pushed his tongue inside to taste the moist heat of her mouth.

  There was a couch in the conference room, an old dusty piece covered in worn leather. It protested as it took their combined weight. Delia ended up sandwiched between the two men. Mark was scrambling with his jeans and she helped him, baring his cock to her avid fingers. Caleb needed no help. She could feel his dick at her back, ready and rearing to go.

  Caleb guided her back onto his lap until his shaft lined her crease, as cool and slick as an icicle. The feel of him made Delia shudder. She shivered again when he slid his finger into her moist asshole, rubbing it with the lube she knew he’d started to carry just for such occasions. He’d come prepared this time too, a fact that touched her with its hopefulness.

  Mark helped balance her as she lifted up again. When she came back down, the tip of Caleb’s dick found her tight entrance. With a now familiar push and squeeze, his cockhead entered her. It was so good. So right.

  She wanted to bear down on him, to take his shaft entirely inside her but they worked together to distract her from her need. Mark knelt between her thighs, parting her shaved pussy and rubbing her swollen clit. The exposed nub reveled in the cool air that poured from his mouth, filling her with his ice.

  Caleb reached around to pinch her nipples, molding them into tiny pebbles, ready for sucking. But neither sucked her yet. Mark was too busy with her pussy, spreading apart her lower lips to tease her with his tongue.

  At the same time, Caleb was pulling her down onto his erect cock, stretching and widening her hole, easing her onto him. She leaned back against him as he kneaded her breasts, his fingers holding her nipples between them like tiny vices. The pressure was unbearable. Mark was eating her cunt out while her asshole accommodated Caleb’s long cock. She was going to come.

  Mark pulled his face away from her sopping wet pussy, and Delia smiled, expecting his cock to soon appear next to her mouth, primed and ready for its own devouring. Instead, he angled himself in front of her pussy, his cock nudging her labia. Inviting himself in.

  Delia writhed on Caleb’s cock but he wasn’t helping her make the choice. She’d had them both in her cunt and her ass but this was different. Both of them at the same time. Could she handle it?

  “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Caleb murmured into her ear.

  She heard the echo of his previous words and she knew now how true they were. She didn’t have to become one of them to love them. She didn’t have to take them both inside her at the same time to love them.

  But I want to. God, I want to.

  “Fuck me,” Delia whispered, staring into Mark’s obsidian eyes. “Fuck me together.”

  So while she was impaled on Caleb’s dick, Mark began pushing his cock into her pussy. The slow inexorable movement built pressure inside her, making her entire pelvis heavy with need. It was like nothing else on earth.

  Delia panted for air but there seemed to be precious little in the room. She was lightheaded with something other than the pleasure of being fed upon. This time, instead of being drained, she was being filled. Her pussy and asshole were twin focus points for powerful waves of sensation until there was almost no difference between them. Both of her holes were filled with luscious cock and she’d never felt more alive or more wanted.

  Both males stayed still for a long moment, letting her writhe and wriggle as she sat impaled upon their hard rods. She came twice just from grinding against them. Ecstasy surrounded her. There was no way to escape it, nor did she want to escape.

  Finally, after she’d creamed again over Mark’s thick cock, he bowed his head against her shoulder and muttered that he couldn’t wait anymore.

  “I love you,” he whispered against her torn neck just before he lowered his hungry lips to the cut he’d made earlier and slaked his thirst.

  He started to bump his hips against her, not quite screwing her but just letting her pussy get a taste of what was to come.

  Behind her, Caleb moved restlessly, his cock pulsing colder than ever between her hot moist butt cheeks.

  “Fuck me,” Delia begged. “Fuck my ass.”

  He needed no further encouragement to begin thrusting up into her backside, grunting with the ferocity of his exertion. Sandwiched between the two males, Delia couldn’t avoid being double-fucked by both of them. Every time Caleb pushed upwards into her asshole, her pussy ground against Mark’s big dick. And when Mark started to fuck her pussy harder, the world exploded.

  Delia came hard as they started to pound her between them, fucking her ass and cunt with relentless force. Their rhythm was inhuman, impossible to keep up with, yet somehow she did, her pussy convulsing again and again as orgasm after orgasm ripped through her body.

  The two immortals were in a frenzy now, fucking her and feeding off her in turn. The coppery smell of her blood tinged the air, mingling with the musky odor of her sex.

  Perspiration poured off Delia’s naked body until it glistened under the moonlight. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t speak. All she could do was feel. Fuck, it was so good. Her pussy had never felt such pleasure and it was all because of the long dick in her asshole, and she’d never enjoyed anal more. The simultaneous fucking took both experiences to a whole new level.

  She cried out as Caleb pulled her fully onto him. The movement shoved his cock deeper than ever b
efore. He twisted his head to take his share of her neck, biting down in way that she was now accustomed too, quick enough to almost eliminate the prick of pain. Mark followed them down, climbing over both of their legs to continue to pump his dick in and out of Delia’s wet cunt. The whole time, his lips never left her throat.

  Caleb came first, spewing his cold spunk into her asshole. Mark followed soon afterwards, coating the internal walls of her pussy with spurt after spurt of cooling cum.

  Although Delia didn’t even think her exhausted pussy could take any more, she came right after the two of them did, in one last pulsing climax that wrung out every ounce of energy from her well-fucked body.

  “God,” she said as she felt them both withdraw. Caleb tucked her under his arm, pressing a kiss against her forehead while Mark lay collapsed over them, his arm slung over the back of the couch.

  “God had nothing to do with what just happened between us,” said Caleb.

  She had to agree. This was new territory, a place where no Darker had ever traveled before.

  “I know I have to choose,” she began, wondering how she could ever give up the kind of sex she’d just experienced. The kind of love.

  Caleb kissed her hair this time. “We love you,” he said. “You don’t have to choose.”

  Delia lifted her head. It felt like it weighed a ton. What was he saying?

  Her voice trembled when she spoke, “Not yet, you mean?”

  “Not ever,” Mark answered. “We’ve talked it over. If you want to be like us or if you never do, it doesn’t matter. We want you in whatever way we can have you.”

  “We want you,” Caleb repeated. “Full stop.”

  The lightheadedness was back. So was the hope.

  Delia looked at them both. Her immortals. Her men. She loved them so much. Soon she would show them just how much. After all, one night they were bound to make it to a proper bed.

  But for now…

  “I can live with that,” she told them.