by Sunny
“If that is the reason,” Halcyon said, “then NetherHell was a blessing in disguise, and everything, including your fear of me afterward, was well worth it.” That had upset Halcyon in a way I’d never seen before, my rejection of him, my fearful recoiling away from his touch after experiencing that tearing, excruciating pain he had caused ripping Mona Louisa’s dead spirit out of me. And yet, without that necessary action, I would still be trapped down in NetherHell, not only dead, but likely dead and truly gone by now. It was not easy surviving in the harsh realm of the damned dead.
As for why it no longer hurt traveling the portal down to Hell, the realm of the living dead, it could be that there was a part of me that was truly lifeless now—the part of me that was Mona Louisa, fully integrated into me. Or again, it could be the lingering aftermath of Gordane’s gargoyle touch, or from a subtle change after being down in NetherHell.
I didn’t know or really care. I was just grateful.
We reached Halcyon’s home unmolested, though not from lack of trying. I had two more opportunities for target practice, and Halcyon three.
“I would not suggest you come down to visit on your own,” Halcyon said after dispensing with a particularly nasty-looking creature I didn’t even have a name for.
“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “Not even tempted.” Cool, neat weapon that my mole-emitted beams were proving to be, without Halcyon’s powerful presence by my side, the attacks on us would have been likely triple what they had been, or even more. The most dangerous predators, the demon dead themselves, had not ventured anywhere near us. That, I was sure, wouldn’t have been the case had I been walking alone with my loudly beating heart calling out to all the blood-hungry denizens.
Halcyon’s house was a far more modest abode than his father’s dark, towering fortress, quietly elegant, solid and powerful like the man himself. Tuck and Keven, two elite demon guards patrolling the grounds, met us at the property line. We exchanged greetings and made our way to the house.
The door opened before we could turn the knob, and a querulous voice said sourly, “I’ll get it. Stand back, you lout.’Tis my job, not yours.”
I had to adjust my gaze significantly downward to meet the eyes of the small female demon that stood there: Jory, a dour old demoness who oversaw the smooth running of Halcyon’s household.
“Welcome, my prince, my lady,” she said blandly.
“Thank you, Jory,” I returned, and lifted my gaze to the demon lout she had been scolding.
He stood waiting a few steps away in brimming impatience.
I felt my heart kick hard at the sight of him and his name left my lips in soft utterance. “Gryphon.”
TWENTY-ONE
GRYPHON HAD HEARD her heartbeat a distance away, and his own dead heart thumped, not with sound or movement but with emotions. Joy and dread and torturous love.
She’s here! She’s here!
The two words beat loudly within his mind, his chest, filling him with a maddening surge of dizzy excitement that hazed his vision red and changed the color of his eyes. It took a moment of conscious control to bring himself back to the calm a demon needed. Another few precious moments to gulp down a cup of challo, blood wine, and chase that down with swallows of water to rinse away the smell of blood. Then a quick chew on a sprig of mint, running the comb through his hair, and a mad dash down to the front door that Jory beat him in opening.
Gryphon’s eyes were blind to all else but the lady who stood there. His ears deaf to everything but the sound of what fell from her lips. His name.
“Mona Lisa,” Gryphon said in a rasping sigh. He held still, letting her come to him, conscious, so conscious of that careful control he had to maintain. Then she was in his arms and he was breathing in her sweet, living scent, feeling the thump of her heart against his own silent chest.
“Dear heart,” Gryphon murmured, relaxing and gathering her up against him when he found that it was not as hard as he had feared, holding her like that, warm and precious. His demon hunger for her blood was tamed, held in abeyance for the moment, superseded by another appetite that suddenly roared forth, stiffening against her. “Oh, my lady,” he groaned, clutching her to him, “it is so good to see you again.”
“As I can see,” Mona Lisa murmured in an amused, soft undertone, “. . . and feel.”
“Forgive me,” Gryphon said, scooping up her legs.
She squealed, laughing. “Put me down. I can walk.”
“Quicker this way.” He threw a quick glance at Halcyon. “Your room?”
At the answering nod, he moved, unbelievably fast.
They were suddenly in Halcyon’s room, and Halcyon was pulling the door closed behind him—not outside the room but inside as Gryphon set Mona Lisa down on her feet.
“You’re staying?” Mona Lisa asked her Demon Prince.
“It’s what we agreed would be most safe,” Halcyon said, steady and calm. Something in his eyes, however, prickled the small hairs on Mona Lisa’s arms, standing them up with a dark, dangerous thrill of excitement.
“Let me,” Gryphon said, gripping the edge of her shirt.
At her answering “Yes,” he lifted her top in a slow, reverent unveiling.
The next article of clothing was removed by the brush of invisible fingers. One bra strap delicately pushed down, then the other. “Was that you?” Mona Lisa asked Gryphon with startled eyes.
“No,” answered Halcyon. “It was me.”
Mona Lisa gasped as she felt those phantom fingers deftly unhook the back clasp. Both men watched as her bra fell away, revealing the soft, white mounds of her breasts.
Tension heightened a notable notch as Halcyon began unbuttoning his shirt, walking slowly toward her. “May I join you?” he asked, as politely as could be, but his eyes . . . the heated smolder in his eyes played contrary to the casual ease of his words.
Mona Lisa swallowed hard, felt her pulse skitter. Felt it pound even more as Gryphon leaned down to brush his lips against the hollow of her throat, slide his mouth over her pulse point. Dangerous, dangerous delight.
She had never been with both of them together before—that is, openly agreed upon, beginning that way. It was, she found, startlingly different.
“By all means, yes,” Mona Lisa said in a breathless whisper.
Everything suspended and became truly breathless as Halcyon began disrobing in a deliberately slow and graceful striptease.
Just those two things: the feel of Gryphon’s lips and the sight of Halcyon moving, acting, in a way she’d never seen before—knowingly, sensually, blatantly sexual.
It was unbelievably arousing.
Her breath came faster, and the unsubtle scent of her arousal filled the air.
“Take off your pants, love,” Gryphon murmured, licking his way up her neck to nuzzle a particularly sensitive spot behind her ear that curled her toes and pulled a soft moan from her. The light touch of Gryphon’s palms running down her shoulders, grazing the sides of her breasts, made her shudder.
There was nothing like a lover who was intimately familiar with your body . . . unless it was two lovers who knew your body’s every secret and erogenous zone.
With teasing slowness, Halcyon slid his pants down. Mona Lisa’s movements were more hasty as she kicked off her shoes and lowered the zipper of her jeans. Her body quivered under Gryphon’s physical touch while her eyes hotly devoured the sight of Halcyon deliberately revealing his body in a blatantly carnal dance. She pulled in a soft breath as his hard organ sprang free. Let loose a gasp as Gryphon’s rough palms pushed her jeans down her legs. He crouched, kneeling at her feet, his mouth so tantalizingly close to the soft feminine juncture where her thighs met.
She felt his breath puff upon her there, ruffling her curls, and gasped in a breath.
Gryphon lifted his wicked blue eyes to her. “Lift your feet,” he commanded softly.
She did, one at a time, feeling his hand brush down her calf, her ankle, the top of the foot—areas mo
re sensitive than she would have imagined. He eased her clothes away so that she stood revealed, naked and vulnerable in front of her two lovers, one as beautifully bare as she was, the other still yet fully clothed.
Like two dancers following choreographed steps, they switched positions, Halcyon coming to stand behind Mona Lisa, caressing her with the delicious brush of bare skin to bare skin, while Gryphon stood up and began his own languid and erotic disrobing.
The Demon Prince touched Mona Lisa with his hands, traveling the same path down her body that Gryphon had followed, while Gryphon stroked her with words, with the heat of his eyes, telling her what he was going to do to her in explicit, detailed, and blunt language. . . what they were both going to do to her.
She found herself throbbingly moist, fully aroused by the time Gryphon parted with his last article of clothing and closed the distance between them to stand in front of her, not touching. Halcyon’s hands fell away, too, so that the two men surrounded her, front and back, for a moment, a walled enclosure of strong, naked male bodies.
Gryphon backed slowly onto the bed, holding her gaze. “Come here,” he said in a rough, sensual demand, lying back against the pillows like a pagan lord.
Had they deliberately planned it this way? she wondered. The last time she had been with Gryphon—the first time making love to him since he had become demon dead—had been difficult. Afraid of touching her with his sharp demon nails or his fanged mouth, Gryphon had been unable to prepare her adequately. Now, though, her body was more than ready for him after the show the two of them had put on, or more accurately, put her through.
Well, if two could play the same game, so could three.
With a gentle sway of her hips, Mona Lisa stepped toward the bed, at an angle so that both of her dark, teasing demons could see.
Her hands started at her neck and stroked slowly, smoothly, down the mounds of her breast, grazing over her nipples. The unexpectedly sharp jolt of sensation hardened the peaks and pulled one groan, and one growl, from her audience of two. They watched her with hot, avid attention. Followed the caressing glide of her fingers down her midriff as she swayed and sauntered over to the bed. Watched with glued eyes as she came to the edge of the mattress and ran her hands down her thighs and then back up, coming to a teasing halt just above her small triangle of hair.
She wasn’t beautiful, but under their intent gazes, she felt more than beautiful: she felt like a wanton seductress, the slightest move of her hands hungrily devoured by their gleaming eyes.
Sinuously she crawled onto the bed.
Gryphon began to sit up and she used one finger to hold him still. “Oh, no,” she whispered, “I haven’t had my turn yet.” Leaning in, she kissed the corner of his mouth, nibbled the curve of his lower lip. “You have the most gorgeous mouth,” she murmured, pulling away when he began to kiss her back. Using both hands, she pushed him prone again, his body deliciously laid out for her enjoyment.
God, he was beautiful. A stunning, dazzling feast to the eyes.
Her gaze drifted to her dark Demon Prince. “Come here on the other side, Halcyon, so I can see and enjoy you both.”
Her Demon Prince moved—no, not moved, that would be too tame a word for what Halcyon did. He prowled with dangerous grace to the other side of the bed, his erect sword leading the way, every fluid movement imbued with raw carnality. The sensual heat of his eyes was mixed with amusement. “Competitive little thing, aren’t you?” he murmured.
“Oh,” she purred, “you have no idea.”
Kneeling beside Gryphon, with her eyes fastened on Halcyon, Mona Lisa put her left hand over the top of Gryphon’s foot and stroked the delicately arched insole.
Gryphon twitched.
“Stay still,” she murmured, and ran her hand up his leg.
Gryphon’s staff, already thick and flushed, grew even duskier in hue as her fingers trailed closer. Halcyon’s thickened pole bobbed and twitched as well, she was happy to see as she continued the upward sweep of her hand. Her fingers ran along Gryphon’s hip, traced the muscles along his abdomen and chest with sweet, appreciative pleasure. And what she touched on Gryphon’s body with her hand, her eyes swept in visual caress over Halcyon.
“Watch me,” Mona Lisa said in soft command to her Demon Prince. Leaning over, with her breasts suspended over Gryphon, she began kissing her way down his chin, his throat, the upper pectoral swell, the hard, flat abdomen, and what lay against it in quivering attention.
She kissed her way down the length of his penis, one hand cupping and squeezed his balls, while the other grasped his twitching staff and held it still as she put her mouth over the tip, letting her soft breath caress him for a torturous moment of strung-out anticipation.
“Mona Lisa . . .” Gryphon spoke her name in a rough, needy groan.
In reward, her tongue flicked out and licked the fluid that had gathered at the tip. Eyes fastened on Halcyon, Mona Lisa delicately licked her way around the entire head until she came to the sensitive under-ridge and laved it with attentive care, probing there until Gryphon’s hips arched up involuntarily. She slipped her mouth down over him for a briefly blissful sucking second, then released him, pinning down his hips with both hands. “Uh-uh. No moving until I tell you to,” she chastised gently.
Her eyes flicked back up to her Demon Lord. “Up on the bed by the pillows, Halcyon. I want you to have a good view.”
“As my lady commands,” Halcyon murmured, moving with catlike grace onto the bed, his dark eyes growing even more brilliant and intent as Mona Lisa swung her leg over Gryphon, straddling him. Using one hand to position him, she sank down on him in a hot, wet glide.
“Sweet Goddess of Light,” Gryphon said, his voice taut and strained as Mona Lisa began to glow. “So tight . . .”
Mona Lisa didn’t rush it. Just let her weight slowly sink her down, watching Halcyon, whose dark, glittering eyes focused on where Gryphon penetrated her, disappearing inch by inch.
Mona Lisa couldn’t see it, but she could feel it, imagine it: Gryphon’s thick length slowly spearing into her. Her own inner muscles tightly surrounding, engulfing him, swallowing him up until their mounds met.
She lifted herself steadily back up as if she were riding a carousel horse, rising almost to the end of his pole, feeling the hard slide of him out. Slowly impaling herself on him back down. But at the end of this cycle, instead of rising up, she leaned back until her spine brushed against Gryphon’s thighs, bending his rigid staff at an acute angle, and rode him this way so that she could see now as well. So all of them, Halcyon and Gryphon and herself, could watch the hard, wet glide of him pushing into her and coming back out, hear the wet, sucking sound they made as his cock entered and exited, feel the angled tension of him rub and pull against her tight sheath.
“Move, Gryphon. Now,” she gasped, quivering, and felt him take over the movement, the rhythm, driving harder, faster, into her. She closed her eyes, remembering the visual image coupled with the physical sensation of his glistening cock disappearing into her, both of their bodies lit, shining. . . Sweet Goddess, indeed. She wasn’t going to last long.
“Halcyon . . . please,” she cried, wanting both of them in her when she went. “Join us.”
He moved so fast she didn’t see him, one moment on his knees against the headboard, the next moment standing there beside them.
“Open your mouth,” Halcyon said harshly, his hands fisting in her hair.
Mona Lisa parted her lips and he pushed his way in. Sweet bliss.
She licked, sucked hungrily as Halcyon pumped in and out of her mouth, humming blissfully at the taste and feel of both of them within her.
Halcyon pulled out and was suddenly behind her, pushing her gently forward, down over Gryphon’s chest. Gryphon lifted his head and took her mouth in a hot, raw kiss as she felt the tip of Halcyon’s cock push into her from behind.
Gryphon’s tongue speared into her mouth at the same time Halcyon entered her anus, and then they were both
fucking her in slow, gentle push-pull rhythm, perfectly coordinated, in and out. In and out.
Mona Lisa felt Halcyon’s phantom hands caress her breast, squeeze her nipples, stroke with devilish lightness over the nub between her wet, parted folds. Clever, invisible fingers tugging, pulling, stroking, and caressing her, feeling as real as the two hard cocks surging into her like dueling swords, rubbing alongside each other separated only by a thin layer of tissued membrane.
They increased their speed, their harmonized tempo, and everything built and tightened and tensed within her.
Mona Lisa broke their kiss as she felt Gryphon’s teeth lengthen and sharpen, knew with a thrill the bloodlust he was feeling, felt a surprisingly corresponding need to be marked and pierced by those very teeth—something she had missed more than she knew.
Gryphon’s rhythm suddenly faltered.
“No, it’s okay. I want it,” she said in hasty reassurance, pulling his mouth to her breast, reaching back with her other hand to guide Halcyon’s head to her neck. “Bite me, both of you. Drink my blood.”
They didn’t wait for a second invitation. Two sets of fangs pierced her.
They drank down her blood and thrust themselves inside her, driving themselves so deep and full within her. That the pleasure culminated and exploded in a visually blinding brilliant pulse of light. She convulsed. Felt the milking clench of her sheath and tightening of her sphincter set off their own spasming release.
“God,” Mona Lisa gasped as she felt the withdrawal of their fangs, leaving behind a pleasant throbbing ache on her breast and neck. She twitched as she felt the twin laving of tongues over the puncture wounds, enhancing the tremors still running through her.
A heavy shiver as she felt Halcyon pull out of her. Another shudder as he lifted her off Gryphon and lay her down on the bed between them.
