“No.” She dragged in a breath. “But I’d like him to.”
Trey gripped her hands, while Brin dug his long fingers into her hips. The cruel pressure at her rear increased unbearably and she gasped aloud.
“Push back, scout.” He huffed out a laugh. “It’s what you’re good at, after all.”
Incensed, she pushed, the pressure eased and Brin’s cock head surged inside her with a solid squelch. “Mother of Mercy!”
The shaman chuckled, dark and wicked in her ear. “She can’t help you now.” He pushed in another inch, and rocked back, working her in short strokes that took him remorselessly deeper by slow degrees. Anje panted, crushing Trey’s fingers in her own, her sphincter stretched so tightly it was on fire. Tears stood in her eyes.
After an age, Brin stopped. He dropped his head to her shoulder and she could feel the effort it took for him to discipline his breathing. “Lufra, you feel fabulous! So silky and hot—” He broke off and went absolutely still.
The panicky tremors in her internal muscles subsided. Experimentally, she tightened them on the intruder and felt a flare of heat.
Brin pulled back in a slow drag and the temperature increased. Her pussy fluttered in sympathy. Ah gods, it was a disgusting act, but it was beginning to feel sinfully good. The tenderness of her buttocks echoed the hot pinch of pain in her ass and Brin pumped slowly in and out, filling her to overflowing with dark pleasure.
“Better now, scout?” he rumbled.
When she gave a jerky nod, he pulled her harder into his chest and sank back on to his knees. Embedded deep within her, he nipped her neck and fingered her nipples, tugging them deliciously hard, sparking bolts of lust that made her clit throb with demand. Then he leaned back against the wall and ran his hands down over her belly and into her pubic bush. He widened his knees, splaying her open, and spread her outer lips with his fingers.
“Now, Trey!”
“Gods yes!” Before she had time to protest, Trey had covered her mouth with his own and slid a fat, urgent inch into her pussy. There he stopped, blocked by Brin’s bulk.
Anje choked and shoved Trey’s face away. “What are you doing?” Her voice rose on a shriek.
Brin laughed, low and wicked. “You wanted it all, scout. We can’t give you more than both of us. Further, Trey.”
Ignoring her curses and pleas, Trey angled and pushed and finessed his way inside her until he was embedded as high in her sheath as he could go. His eyelids drooped with pleasure, the lashes tipped with gold in the warm light. “Lufra, this is the best—”
Mother help her, she was going to faint! The sensations were incredible, the heat and hardness of two masculine bodies pressed against her, hemming her in, overwhelming in their solidity. For the first time with the Feolin, she felt truly, utterly helpless. All her life, she’d been aware of her strength, the power of her long, lean limbs. Now she was acutely conscious of the softness of female flesh, its delicacy, its yielding dampness and giving heat.
The two cocks crammed inside her pulsed in time with the rasp of male breath. Every drop of blood in her body had descended to her loins. She was one huge, insistent throb, so sunk in sensation, she wasn’t sure that she wasn’t climaxing continuously at a low level, her clit tensing and fluttering, as hard as a berry.
She braced her thighs, trying to move herself on the impaling shafts, but they held her down.
Brin gave her nipple an admonitory tweak. “Hold still, scout. We’re doing the fucking.”
Anje stared into Trey’s wide hazel eyes, seeing there a tiny reflection of the white-hot flames in her own pupils.
The words came out slow and thick. “Let Trey do it. It’s what he wants.” Her lower body clenched with greed, feeling the two cocks jammed incestuously together inside her.
She licked her lips. “Fuck me, Trey. Fuck Brin through me.”
Chapter Fifteen
The Dragon King ran his forked tongue over Her divine breasts, as round and rosy as gaeta fruit ripe on the vine. Holy Lufra sighed Her pleasure and the Dragon’s soul took flight, for in Her starry eyes he saw the lick of the flames he desired more than his hoard of burning gold—more than life itself. Shuddering, he abased himself, crouching to lay his heavy head at Her dainty foot.
Lufra and the Dragon King, a Feolin folk tale. An extract.
With a low, inarticulate cry, Trey broke. He reached past her to sink his fingers into Brin’s shoulders, his hips surged and he thrust and thrust.
The eyes rolled back in Anje’s head. She simply couldn’t imagine what Brin must be feeling, the thundering massage of Trey’s rigid penis transmitted through the smooth walls of her flesh.
Trey buried his sweaty face in the curve of her neck. He was chanting her name with every stroke, as though it was an invocation. Then his voice dropped to a guttural murmur and it was “Love, ah love,” as his buttocks hollowed with effort and his hips churned.
Anje was certain he no longer spoke to her alone.
“Trey, stop,” groaned Brin.
Trey’s cock hammered.
Brin stroked his open palm over the taut globe of Trey’s buttock. He flexed his fingers into the resilient flesh while he arched harder into Anje’s ass. “Stop, I said!”
Trey’s eyes glittered with love and lust. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. He slowed, but his hips continued a slow, instinctive shimmy, as though he was helpless to prevent it.
Brin’s breath rattled past her ear. “It’s too good. I’ve got to move. You’re making me—” he rasped. “I can’t offer and not be fucking her when it happens. Match me.”
He eased out of Anje’s ass, waited a spine-tingling second and pushed in again. Trey followed the motion, pulling out as the shaman surged in. Rapidly, they built the rhythm, sliding in turn through the channels of her body. She could feel them rub each other through the walls of her sheath and the eroticism of it forced a thin sound from her mouth. She’d never imagined she could make a sound like that, so desperate, so wanting.
Her head thrashed. “Holy Mother, I’m going out of my mind!”
“About time!” Brin panted against her neck, the ebb and thrust of his cock creating a dark fire of pain and pleasure.
She writhed and mewled and begged without shame, scarcely knowing what she did.
Trey threw his head back. “Gods, I’m close!” His throat corded. “Brin!”
As if his strangled cry was a signal, Anje’s flesh convulsed in an endless heave that took her down and rolled her soul under a dark wave of shattering sensation. Trey groaned and pumped and pumped, shuddering until he was spent.
Vaguely, she felt the warmth of his semen wash into her. Behind, Brin’s body went rigid and his cock spasmed in long, tortured ripples that lasted forever. Her bowels cramped a last, greedy time and a piercing sweetness took her by surprise as she came again, right on the heels of the first climax.
Gradually, she became aware of where she ended and they began. She was sagged into Trey’s shoulder, gasping, her mouth plastered open against his skin. Brin’s hands cradled her breasts and his stubbled cheek pressed against her upper arm. His hair lay with hers in a great tangle, black on black, and Trey’s hand was buried to the wrist in the combined mass of it.
Anje’s heart still galloped like a vran at full stretch. She sucked in a long breath. The air was sharp with the smell of sex and sweat, underlaid with the green freshness of the bracken.
Brin sighed and opened his palm flat over her breastbone. She felt her heart rise to meet his touch. “You’re shaking,” he said. “Are you all right?”
“I think so.” She lifted her heavy head and Trey released his hold on their hair. “That was… I’ve never…”
Trey’s shaft slipped from her body. He kissed her cheek. “Amazing’s the word you’re looking for.”
A little sliver of hurt pierced her. “Don’t tell me you haven’t shared a woman before.” A reminiscent shiver raised the hair on the back of her neck. “You�
�re too damn good.”
“Oh yes.” Trey’s thumb caressed her cheek. “But it’s never been like this. Has it, Brin?”
“No,” agreed the shaman. Gently, he disengaged himself from her burning flesh. Gods, he was still half hard! “But then, we’ve not fucked Lufra’s Gift before.”
As he spoke, he made room for her to straighten her limbs. She stretched luxuriously, then winced.
“Open up, scout.” Brin nudged her thigh.
Anje squinted. “What for?” she asked suspiciously.
“We’ll be riding all day tomorrow. Open up.”
He wet a cloth with water from the gourd and cleansed her meticulously. Then he did the same for himself, completely unselfconscious as he handled his heavy cock, washed around his testicles.
Finally, he tossed the cloth aside, and lay down between her legs. His shoulders shoved her thighs apart. “What are you—?” Anje’s head fell back as he set his mouth on her.
He dragged the flat of his tongue slowly through her slit. It felt warm and wet and muscular against her aching flesh and she arched into his touch. With a grunt of satisfaction, the shaman slid his hands under buttocks and lifted her for better access.
Strangely enough, it didn’t feel as though he was trying to arouse her. The tongue bath was soothing rather than titillating. His fingertips drew tiny circles on the outside of her thigh. A couple of times, she nearly drifted into a languorous sleep. Mother, he was skilled!
As if from very far away, she heard Trey’s irritated voice, continuing a conversation. “Why not?”
Brin paused in his ministrations, but he didn’t lift his head. “I told you,” he said, “payback,” and blew lightly over her swollen folds. Anje squirmed as he chuckled. “Anyway, you’re one ahead of me. Don’t be selfish.”
Trey swore, but she lost the sound in the delicate sensation of Brin’s pointed tongue, lapping gently at her clit. She sighed with pleasure, her sex humming with joy, and rubbed the sole of one foot over his ribs.
Brin crooned, a deep rumble, and reached up to feather her nipples. Anje gasped and set both feet on his shoulders, opening herself fully. The shaman’s tongue flickered over her abused anus in a warm, tender circle, then furrowed all the way back to her clit. Very slowly, he sucked it into his mouth. The pressure was light, no more than the barest sweep, but a lovely little frisson tingled through her sex and down her thighs. She sighed, replete.
He inserted a fingertip into her vagina and pushed it in a scant inch. “Sore?” he asked, his dark eyes meeting her dazed ones over the slight mound of her belly.
She took a moment to think about it. “Not there.”
“Good.” Smoothly, he rose and straddled her, taking her ass in both hands and notching his cock head in the mouth of her pussy. With a grunt of pleasure, his buttocks flexed and he sank to the hilt in a single glide.
Anje’s eyes flew open, but before she could speak, Brin slid his forearms beneath her head and kissed her deeply. She was comprehensively pinned, anchored at mouth and sex by his muscular body, so much bigger and stronger than hers. Even his hair fell around her like a soft screen.
He lifted his head to stare into her eyes, the goddess flame dancing in his pupils. Sweet Mother, he was a shaman! How many times could he do it? How long would it take to satisfy him fully?
“Put your legs around me, scout.”
“Brin, I—”
“Wrap me up. Do it.”
She tilted her pelvis and did as she was bid. Brin sank another luscious half-inch, his eyes half closed with pleasure.
Without another word, he set up a long gliding rhythm, drawing out the wet friction against her sensitized tissues. His brow furrowed with concentration and she realized with a shudder of delighted comprehension, that this was solely for him, his pleasure.
Instinctively, she knew he didn’t indulge himself this way often and she pressed her calves into the hard curve of his waist. The angle was wrong for her, she’d never climax, but she didn’t care. What she wanted was to hear Brin’s groan of rapture, to feel his seed gush inside her, wet and warm, to know his offering to his strange goddess gave him true ecstasy.
She arched her hips and sank her fingers into his hair, pulling him down to her shoulder. Pressing her lips to his rough cheek, she whispered, “Hard, Brin. Fuck me hard.”
“Lufra!” His hips surged so powerfully, she was shifted several inches across the bedding. His cock thundered into her, slamming out to the tip and back to the root in a brutal rhythm.
Anje exulted, panting.
Over Brin’s heaving shoulder, she saw Trey kneeling, his shaft held in a no-nonsense grip. His fist moved in time with the shaman, but he was having a harder time controlling the swelling tide of his lust.
On a half-strangled gasp, he closed his eyes and threw his head back. His face flushed scarlet. Semen flowed over his clenched fingers, not in spurts, but in vicious, desperate dribbles, hard-won.
The shaman bellowed as he jetted inside her, his big body shuddering and jerking with the force of his climax. Lufra would be a demanding mistress indeed if She failed to be pleased with such an exquisitely brutal offering.
He lay completely still for a moment, blanketing her, the breath rasping in his throat. Then he rolled them both over and draped her limbs over his. “Thanks, scout.” With a long sigh of satisfaction, he settled her head on his shoulder.
“No more, Brin,” she mumbled into hard, sweaty flesh. Strangely enough, though she hadn’t come, she felt a bone-deep sense of completion. Exhaustion tugged at her in a dragging wave. “No more. I’m done, you hear?”
As if from a distance, she heard his dark chuckle, imagined his crooked smile. “You certainly have been.”
She felt Trey draw up a blanket, though Brin’s body spread beneath hers generated heat like a furnace. “Sleep, sweeting. You deserve it.” Trey’s lips brushed her cheek.
Anje wriggled until she was comfortable, ignoring Brin’s halfhearted rumbles of protest. He wrapped an arm around her waist, cupped the back of her head with the other hand. “Mine, scout.”
Drifting off the edge, she heard Trey say softly, “Ours.”
There was a long, long pause. She felt Brin’s throat move as he swallowed. Anje cranked her eyes open.
Trey was leaning forward, almost nose-to-nose with the shaman. Muzzily, she watched their stares tangle and mesh, the shaman’s midnight gaze hard as flint, Trey’s gold and unblinking.
“I Bonded her.” Brin’s tone was uncompromising.
“I know that.” Trey didn’t shift an inch. His lips set in a stubborn line.
After an age, Brin’s lashes fell and he murmured, “Go to sleep.” Trey’s grin was blinding.
She was still puzzling it out when she fell into the abyss and sleep claimed her.
They took her again in the dark hour before dawn, Brin teasing a soft, lazy climax from her with his fingers, Trey sucking dreamily at her nipples. After a fierce whispered discussion, the shaman rolled her on to her stomach and pushed into her relaxed, receptive sheath from behind. The intrusion, steady and gentle as it was, woke her sufficiently to notice Trey lounging at her elbow with a hard-on that looked positively painful.
Breathing hard through her nose as Brin hit a particularly delicious spot, Anje stretched out a commiserating hand. Trey seized it and clamped her fingers around his shaft, huffing with relief.
The broad head of Brin’s cock slid smoothly over a bundle of nerves deep inside her and Anje’s fingers flexed in reaction. Through half-shut eyes, she watched Trey move their joined hands up and down, cramming her palm against his hot satin skin, pressing it into the iron hardness beneath and demonstrating the rhythm that was the key to his pleasure.
Basking in warm sensation, she pushed back into the shaman’s long thrusts, letting him dictate their shared rhythm. She relaxed into a gentle climax as Trey cried out and spurted over their laced fingers, Brin following without fuss a few heartbeats later.
Wi
th a long sigh, he rolled away and Trey tucked her against his side. He skated his fingertips over her ribs. “Gods, I could wake like this every morning of my life.”
Brin sat up, casually magnificent in his nudity. “Not ‘til after the Day of the Dark,” he said. “And for that, we have to be in Feolin.”
He swooped to drop a kiss on Anje’s parted lips. “Don’t ask, scout. I won’t answer.” He rose and reached for his trews, seemingly oblivious of two pairs of hungry eyes tracking every graceful move. “I’ll get the fire going.”
Trey held her a little longer, mumbling extravagant nonsense into her hair, petting and patting, making her chuckle. She stretched in his arms, feeling the fragile beauty of the moment, knowing it was fleeting. Perhaps, if she used his pretty little mirror, she could pick the catch of the torque with her knife without decapitating herself. Brin would be massively pissed if she hurt herself again.
Darkly amused by the foolishness of her train of thought, she hugged Trey one last time and rose to dress and find the roberry.
The morning air was crisp and cold. A remorseless chill seeped from the rocky walls of the cave and invaded the very bones. Brin brought a gourd of hot water and filled the mug Anje held out to him, watching her shiver as she cradled it between her palms. Without hesitation, he reached for the Bond link between them. Ah. The calm, set purity of her features was no reflection of the turmoil inside. She was deeply shaken and determined not to show it.
Wryly, he acknowledged he was no better. He’d done his morning meditation as he watched the Sun and the Shadow rise, tangled together in the sky.
He’d felt the fleeting warmth of Lufra’s benediction, but he didn’t feel calm. Not at all.
Brin glanced at Trey, propped on one elbow under the covers, all firm and fair and elegant despite the tousled curls. Honor dictated he should treat him as the younger brother he’d never had, experience said he could resist an untutored scout. But by Lufra, between them, they’d had his famed control hanging by a thread!
Not for the first time, serious doubts assailed him. He’d been cruel, he knew it. He wasn’t generally so clumsy, but he’d been desperate. The thought of Trey giving his innocence to some stranger! He ground his teeth with hurt and fury, even as his head reeled with lewd images. Trey kneeling, offering that delectable ass, a cock shoving his virgin flesh aside, powering home. Trey’s face, contorted with pain and pleasure. Trey, opening his mouth, swallowing him whole and hot. Trey fucking him, kissing him, owning his soul.
Gift of the Goddess Page 14
