Behind The Black Door

by Darcy Abriel

  "She doesn't even know what she is. How can she begin to use her power? She doesn't even look like one of us."

  "Leave, Titus. Now."

  "This is not the last of this, Quintus.” And then he was gone, a trail of mist rising into the sky and vanishing.

  Quintus whirled around only to find that Gulietta was no longer where Titus had dropped her to the ground. Already one block farther along, she was on her hands and knees in front of a man. Her hands at his belt.

  Quintus raced down the street, ripped her away from the stranger, and shoved her back into the dark alley. He turned and growled at the man, baring his fangs. It was enough. The man spun around and ran down the street.

  Quintus turned back to face Gulietta.

  "You don't need him. I'll give you what you need."

  Her arms were wrapped around her waist. When she looked up at him, her eyes blazed with blue-violet fire. Her teeth clenched tight, her lush, red lips drawn back in a grimace. He saw the war waged behind that look.

  The lust was upon her. He saw it in the lines of her body as they softened and yet the sexual aura intensified, the look of the siren predator in every line. Her fingers slowly unfurled to shove her jeans down over her hips. He gripped her hand and felt the red-hot heat of her skin that almost singed him. The glow of sex, ruby silk flesh, the scent of hot cinnamon, spicy and enticing flooded the air as she revealed her sex.

  "Then take me, damn you. I can't stand the pain any longer."

  Quintus shoved her back into the alley as he released his cock from the confinement of his pants. It bobbed thick and tall. Larger than most men's. But Gulietta was not most women. She would take him. Again and again and again.

  She was a satyress and was meant for him.

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  CHAPTER 3

  Reate, Italy

  Gulietta's mother should have warned her. The transformation might have gone easier. Instead, she'd let her daughter believe the bumps on her head a deformity and as Gulietta had gotten older and the need for sex had become voracious, her mother should have told her it was natural.

  Instead, she'd told Gulietta on what felt like a never-ending basis that she was unnatural and must curb her desire for sex. She was twenty-five when Quintus walked into her life. And all those years before his arrival Gulietta had thought of herself as a tramp with the loose morals of a she-cat.

  But what she hadn't realized was that sex for her wasn't the same as it was for other women—human women. For Gulietta it wasn't just for pleasure—it was a necessity of survival. The real agonies of going without sex hadn't fully manifested until she turned eighteen. Before that, it was more like monthly cramps that went along with her period. Except the cramps were a nightly occurrence starting when she was fifteen. When she had her first period.

  But at eighteen the pain escalated into nightmarish proportions. Excruciating pain that could not be controlled. At twenty she'd learned exactly what it took to stop the pain, or at least control it. And after the sex she always felt a sense of invulnerability. That lasted for maybe an hour before the cycle started all over again. She reveled in it, until she began to think maybe it was all in her head and she was a sex addict.

  It took her one night of searing agony in an attempt to go without the sex, to accept that it wasn't just mental. She truly needed the primal intimacy to maintain her sanity. And then she began to wonder if that was the way she wanted to survive. Tied to a desperate need that drove her every action. She tried to fight it, but as she grew older, the demands of her body magnified.

  By the time she was twenty-three she took no pleasure in sex. It was more like a diabetic with the need for insulin each and every day.

  Until the night she met Quintus. Then, everything had changed.

  She stood at the entrance to the woods, staring at the spot of greatest power. Just behind the iron black gate that separated the human world from Antius's dominion. She could have refused to come here. Quintus didn't force her, he gave her a choice. More or less. If she'd stayed on the other side, she wouldn't have to worry about a rack of antlers. Or about every male satyr in sight trying to fuck her just to gain a speck of the power they thought she had.

  She looked down at the small photo album she'd brought with her. The only thing she had left of her mother. She dropped to the grass, crossing her legs and laid the open album across her thighs. She opened to the first page—a picture of her mother standing in front of the largest oak tree she'd ever seen.

  She'd now stood beneath that tree in reality. Touched it, made love beneath it. She reached beneath her black silk gown to stroke across her swollen labia. A shudder of pleasure escaped her. Her fingertip brushed across her wet inner lips. Suddenly her skin began to itch. Which seemed to happen a lot since coming here.

  She knew the signs. It was the cramping pain she was used to on the other side of the wall. Compared to that, this was just a slight irritation. She set the album aside and rose up onto her knees. Reaching for the hem, she yanked off the silk gown and dropped it to the ground. So much for human modesty. Sometimes she didn't even know why she tried to affect rituals of her former world in this place. Then she dropped back onto the cool, silky grass, stretching out like a cat.

  She stopped fighting the desire. For her it was natural. Fighting the effects only made it worse. She lay back and spread her legs. Her fingers delving between the engorged lips, circling her stiff clitoris. There was no urgency to her movements, she had learned to take joy in self-pleasure. Almost as much as when Quintus fucked her.

  "I can help you with that, if you'd like."

  Gulietta turned her head to look at the elf carrying a pile of books almost taller than himself. Her dominion tutor. Embarrassment was not a part of life on this side of the wall. And Latek's inquiry was simply a polite offer of assistance. She had learned since her arrival months ago that polite offers such as Latek's were the norm in this realm, a bit skewed compared to the other side, but normal here.

  She sank her finger into her channel. “No, Latek. You know how Quintus gets. But you may watch."

  Latek dropped the books and then sat down. He opened his pants and freed quite the impressive cock and began to masturbate.

  "Quintus is very ... territorial. It's that primal wolf nature of his. I'm sure he'll ease off soon enough."

  "He doesn't own me, though he thinks he does.” She sank two fingers into her vagina. Damn the man. Just thinking about him had a way of bringing on a climax.

  She thought of him naked. Tall, and big-shouldered. A thick chest pelted with dark, silky hair. Oh, gods. Never the same when it came to sex. One time he might be hard and very alpha. Another soft and sensitive. She could never get quite a handle on what the man was all about. His personality seemed to shift like the sands of the desert, never the same way twice. And there were times when it was so easy for her to lose her way. Damn the man.

  And then she came, rising up, her pelvis thrusting. Eyes closed she fell back onto the soft grass. Slowly she brought her legs together, her slick thighs rubbing against each other.

  Then she heard Latek's groan as he spewed his seed.

  It was long moments that she lay there beneath the heat of the noon-day sun as the warmth bathed her body. She remembered her mother, a tall woman much like some of the Sabine women still in Antius's court. Throwbacks from a bygone age.

  * * * *

  "What was he like, Mother?” It was the question she always asked. Who was her father?

  Her mother would get that far off look in her eyes, like she ventured into the mystical realm, a place Gulietta couldn't follow.

  "You know I don't like talking about him."

  "But I want to know, Mother. All the other kids talk about their dads. Even the kids who don't see their fathers. Am I like him?"

  Her mother gazed at her for a long time, as though she was trying to decide what she should say and what she shouldn't.

  "Did he leave because I'm deformed
?” She reached up to touch the nubs hidden by her thick hair.

  "No, of course not. It wasn't like that.” Gulietta's mother leaned forward and brushed a hand over Gulietta's hair. “It wasn't you. It was me. I didn't want that life for you."

  "What life?"

  Her mother's hand dropped away and she looked past Gulietta. “He was very big. And handsome. Sometimes, I guess he seemed more beast than man. His eyes—oh, his eyes—could melt you or destroy you. And his hands, just his touch could ... Well, never mind. To me, he was the most beautiful thing on earth."

  "But you left him?"

  Her mother turned to look at her. “He was beautiful and handsome and a superb lover. But he was also very powerful and very dangerous. I was with him for one fortnight, no more. Once he had me. When I knew I was pregnant, I also knew I had to leave.” She had looked at Gulietta at that moment, the intensity of her eyes almost terrifying.

  "What is it, Mother?"

  "I won't let him have you. You can never go back there. You have no idea what kind of life you would lead."

  "Have me?” Gulietta had asked.

  Her mother had leaned closer, her dark eyes glittering with a fanatic gleam. Her grip on Gulietta's arms unforgiving. “He'll give you to them. And once you've had one, you'll never be able to come home again. They change you. Don't ever go back there. Promise me, Gulietta, that you'll never go back to Italy."

  "I promise. I won't go there."

  Only then did her mother release her from the tight grip and she dropped back against the chair.

  * * * *

  Of course, she had given her promise, not wanting to upset her mother. But after her sudden death from unknown causes, when Gulietta was twenty-four, Gulietta had discovered the photos in an old chest in her mother's bedroom. One old black-and-white photograph showing her mother looking like she was in her twenties standing in front of a large black door. There was something written on the back.

  Sabine descendent. Reate.

  It was a year later Gulietta broke her promise to her mother. She didn't want to think it was just the sex with Quintus that made her break that promise. She blamed it on the fact she wanted to meet her father.

  But the sex. When he'd pulled her into the alley that night. It was something she would never forget.

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  CHAPTER 4

  Kansas City

  Gulietta didn't really care who the imposing, attractive man was who followed her after the attack. Nor did she worry about the big dog that came to her rescue. Her mind had totally been focused on relieving the pain that raged through her. Like a junkie who could have cared less where her next fix came from. And she knew exactly how to relieve the pain. She needed sex. He'd scared away the other guy. At this point she simply didn't care. Common sense played no part in her actions when the pain got this bad. This man was more than adequate to give her what she required.

  She reached for him, but he stopped her. His big hands locked around her fragile wrists.

  "Slowly,” he said.

  "I can't wait. I need you now."

  "And so you shall have me. Calm yourself. I know the rage is upon you. You'll enjoy it so much more if you relax."

  "Enjoy it? You've got to be kidding."

  He tilted his head as he looked at her. “You've never enjoyed the mating?"

  "Not that I can remember. Now stop talking and fuck me. Or I'll find someone else who will.” She reached for his cock and again he pushed away her hands.

  He leaned toward her, and his lips brushed against hers.

  "Open your mouth,” he whispered.

  If she wanted to ease the pain, she was going to have to do what he asked. She couldn't bear the cramping of her womb any longer. The medicine the doctors gave her never helped. There was only one way to ease the ache.

  She opened her mouth. He licked across her lips, then buried his tongue inside. She sucked for all she was worth. The clench of her womb increased as though to say, “Yes, this is the one. I want him."

  And so you shall have him, bane of my existence. As soon as he allows me to have him.

  He withdrew his tongue, then began to lick along her jaw, circling over her chin. Tilting her head slightly, he tracked down her throat. Then he unbuttoned her shirt, peeling it back to expose her breasts. The cool night air brushed across her skin, heightening her awareness. She shivered from the exquisite contact.

  The cramping continued, but something else curled inside her. A heat that spiraled through her. A wetness that pooled between her thighs. Wetter than she'd ever been before.

  A sound somewhere between a purr and a moan escaped from her. He lifted his head and looked at her. Then she gasped as he spun her around and pulled her even deeper into the alleyway. Not a sound but their heavy breathing. The long, drawn-out yowl of a cat suddenly echoed through the deserted passage. She stiffened, but then the stranger captured her attention once more and she forgot about anything else.

  His kisses drugged her as he claimed her lips, then dipped lower and sucked a nipple deep into his mouth.

  A tight arrow of ache and ecstasy shot through her, from her breasts to her cunt. Oh, God, it felt so good. Too good. Her womb clenched tighter, and her pussy dripped more cream onto her thighs. One of his hands gripped her calf and lifted her leg. He yanked off her boot and she heard the thump as it landed on the pavement.

  She didn't care. She wanted him more than she'd ever wanted any man before. However he wanted to do it, she was more than willing. There was a difference. Yes, she had needed the sex before. But on this night she wanted it. And that was unusual. He shoved her pants down her legs, all the way, then yanked one leg of her jeans complete off, freeing one of her limbs.

  He raised the bare leg, anchored it against his powerful thigh, opened her wide, then shoved his cock into her wet pussy. He lifted her with huge muscled arms, and she wrapped her free leg around his waist. His mouth found hers once more, fusing them together. Not a space for breath, from willing mouth to wet cunt, locked lips to rigid cock, and she felt him so deeply the world rocked, splintered and fell away.

  He forced her to remain still, just holding her close, her pussy wrapped tightly around his cock, lips wide, hairs tickling. Sanity shifted.

  "I have come for you and you alone, woman,” he said.

  "W-who are you?” His cock nudged deeper and she whimpered as the tip brushed against the opening of her cervix.

  "I am Quintus, the Roman. Servant of your father."

  Her eyes widened. “My father!"

  And then he began to move inside her and she thought she would die from the pleasure. Slow surges, in and out as he ground against her. Her back wedged against the brick wall, he drove his cock into her channel. The first climax shattered her.

  And still he thrust, deep, then shallow, over and over again. His prick fit her more perfectly than it should, deeper than any other. Each climax released another gush of her fluid, coating him, allowing him to slide in and out with ease.

  Groans and grunts filled the darkness, echoes of passion, the rasp of clothing as bodies melded together, the crunch of gravel beneath Quintus's boots.

  Again she came. And then again. He captured her cries, swallowed them whole. Until at last she felt him come, spurting deep into her womb.

  It wasn't until long moments later, as he was sliding from inside her, lowering her to her feet, that she realized she had never even thought of using a condom.

  Thank goodness she was on the pill. She redressed with shaking hands, unable to believe what had just happened. And the full shock of where she was settled over her as a couple sauntered past the entrance to the alley.

  "Jesus, what did I just do?” The question was more rhetorical than anything else, because she knew exactly what she had just done. And then something else shocked her back to reality. Her head shot up and she narrowed a looked at Quintus.

  "You said my father sent you?"

  He was leaning back ag
ainst the wall, legs crossed, watching her with the intentness of a hunter. It made her feel like a predator's prey, wondering when he would pounce. She eased away from him, ready to hightail it out of that alley as fast as possible. What had she been thinking? At least now she could think clearly without the haze of lust fogging her brain.

  He seemed to sense her intent and fast as a rattler's strike grabbed her arm and yanked her forward until she fell heavily against his chest.

  "You are not leaving here without me. Or is it that you don't want to meet your father?"

  Yes and no to that question. All these years, she'd never met him. Only knew what her mother had told her. And now, out of the blue, this man said her father wanted to meet her. Was it just a line? Or was this real?

  "Oh, it's very real, Gulietta. But I don't think you want to discuss it here. I think we should return to your apartment. Where there's more privacy."

  She had to be in shock to even be thinking about taking him back to her apartment. But that's exactly what she was going to do. Why had she not been curious at the time about how he had known where she lived? She'd never questioned it.

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  CHAPTER 5

  Reate, Italy

  "Your mother wouldn't have died if she hadn't left me."

  Gulietta quickly grabbed for the gown she'd set aside and pulled it on. Even here she was not going to remain naked with her sire in proximity. She didn't care how lax the customs were. “What are you doing here?” she asked as she looked up at Antius. She still had a difficult time thinking of him as her father.

  "I came to see my daughter. To see how you are faring. You look well."

  She picked up the photograph album from the ground where it had been setting next to her. She wondered where Latek had gotten himself off to. And why he hadn't warned her that her father was close by. The pile of books he'd been carrying were scattered across the grass.

  She turned back to look at her father. Right now he appeared more animal than man with the most amazing golden ram's horns of anyone in the satyr's kingdom, making him look very powerful and kingly, in a manner of speaking. “Word is that you've adapted well since arriving."