Dark Warrior (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Julie Shelton

  She tried to swallow, but couldn’t. Her mouth was too dry. She simply stood and stared at him. She felt scorched, as if his gaze were fire and she were a pile of kindling. Yet, at the same time, she was shivering. Her skin hummed. Buzzed. Crackled. As if fingers of lightning were dancing up and down her spine.

  Response flared through her like a flaming torch. Her feelings were a jumble, her emotions a boiling cauldron of heat and confusion and need. She felt out of balance. Jumbled and chaotic. And so aroused her feminine essence perfumed the very air around her.

  Without saying a word, he held out his hand. His eyes pinned her to the spot, impaling her with the dark need she saw there.

  Raw, naked lust poured through her veins, robbing her of her thought, her speech, her strength. Her knees buckled. She would have sunk to the floor had he not caught her, swinging her easily up into his arms.

  “I love you, Kathryn.” His voice was a carnal caress, dark and demanding. “I’m going to love you until you think you’re going to die with pleasure.”

  Breath shuddered from her lungs. She had never been so aroused, so overcome with lust. It rampaged through her veins, dark and hot and destructive.

  He carried her over to the bed and set her on her feet once again. Then he proceeded to undress her until she, too, was totally nude and shivering even harder. Not with cold, but with a desire so overpowering she felt she would disintegrate from the overload to her senses. Desire, arousal, pure raw hunger surged heavily through her, sending thick, hot cream spilling from her womb. She was white hot and pulsing with a need that was primal.

  He looked down at her, his eyes black with the force of his hunger, a hunger so raw he thought it would rip him apart. The flickering firelight danced over her skin, giving her an ethereal glow as if she were lit from within. He was moving his hands up and down her arms as he gazed at her, his need for her a fever in his blood.

  “Christ, sweetness! You’re so soft. So smooth.” His stroking fingers sent raw fire racing through her nerve endings.

  She arched into him, seeking his heat, his touch. Needing his hands on her, stroking her, caressing her skin. God, how she needed that touch. Craved it. Had to have it or she would surely wither and die.

  “I can smell your arousal,” he whispered, his voice a silken caress across her skin. His arms went around her as he took a deep breath, pulling her scent into his lungs. He turned his head so he could kiss and nibble on her neck. “You smell so sweet, beloved. Like the earth after a spring rain. Like a winter sunrise. I want to taste you. I want to lap up your sweet cream until you come against my tongue.”

  “Nicholas…” It was barely a breath of sound. She was helpless under the spell of his voice, midnight dark, velvet soft, stroking over her like hot silk. Naught made sense except the need raging through her, consuming her. “I cannot think—”

  “Then do not,” he said. “Just feel. Feel me. Feel my mouth drinking your sweet nectar. Feel my tongue fucking you.” He practically threw her down on the bed, and was instantly between her legs, lifting them, parting them, his dark head between her thighs, inhaling her scent to the bottom of his lungs. “Christ, beloved. Your scent is enchanting. I can never get enough of you.”

  He lifted his head to look at her. Her legs as far apart as they could get, her knees bent, she tilted her hips upward as he parted her labia with his thumbs. Then his mouth was on her, suckling, licking, stroking her hot, swollen flesh with his tongue until she was shuddering against him. Her fingers curled into the sheets and she howled in pleasure, driving her hips upward with a mindless desperation that had her fighting to catch her breath.

  Her lungs constricted. Tight. Tight. Tight. Her body went rigid as she climbed toward her release. The lust raging inside her was a fiery cauldron of unfulfilled needs blazing out of control. She was trembling, her breath shuddering, her body coming apart from the uncontrollable tremors of impending orgasm.

  Nicholas swirled his tongue down the furrow of her cleft, then he stabbed it deep into the entrance of her streaming cunt. One, two, three thrusts and she came up off the bed with a howl.

  Lightning raged around her, over her, through her as she convulsed with the deepest pleasure she had ever known. She held her breath until it exploded from her lungs. Her body shattered into white-hot bursts of pleasure that had her spasming and jerking uncontrollably. She screamed out her ecstasy until her lungs were empty and she had naught left but a series of tiny, gasping whimpers as her body continued to shake with bliss.

  While she was still struggling to drag air into her lungs, Nicholas crawled up the mattress to claim her mouth with his own. She tasted herself on his lips, on his tongue as he stroked into her moist cavern. She pulled the breath from his lungs into her own.

  While she was still splintering from the force of her climax, he raised himself over her, hands at her shoulders, arms straight, elbows locked. He flexed his hips and she could feel the thick head of his cock sliding up and down her slit, seeking her opening. She whimpered, opening her legs wider. He penetrated her with just his cock head, holding himself still while she adjusted to his invasion.

  Then, lowering himself to his elbows, he bent his head and took her mouth. At that same moment, with one powerful flex of his hips, he drove his cock into her, stretching her, filling her, embedding his entire length up to his balls. She cried out, throwing her legs around his waist, locking her ankles behind his back. Her flexing, convulsing walls closed around him in a fist-like grip.

  He began to move, pulling out slowly, letting her feel every thick, granite-hard inch of his withdraw, before slamming all the way back in. Another slow retreat, another violent thrust—Oh, Christ! He sucked in his breath as his body went rigid. Christ! He hadn’t come this quickly since he was fifteen and fucking his first woman. Kathryn had him so aroused, he had no more control than an inexperienced boy.

  His face was tight, twisted, his mouth a rictus as he let loose a shout of completion. Hot semen shot into her as his body convulsed in a soul-jarring orgasm that tipped her over the edge into her own. She convulsed around him, wringing fresh new bursts of cum from his shrinking cock. Finally, it softened, wrenching a low moan from her as it fell from her body.

  His strength deserted him completely and he collapsed on top of her, totally spent. But she didn’t even notice, because she had either fallen asleep or passed out.

  * * * *

  She was on her knees. Something was poking her in the ass. Something hard. Very hard. And…cold. Wait. Cold?

  What—?

  “Nicholas—” It was little more than a frightened squeak as she tried to lift her head to see what he was doing, but the weight and pressure of one broad hand between her shoulder blades kept her head and shoulders pinned to the bed, her ass high in the air. Holy Mother of God! “Nicholas, what—” A whimper left her throat as the pressure against the puckered rosebud of her anus intensified until she felt something pop as the tight ring of her asshole was breached. “Nicholas!” she shrieked before she realized that the forward pressure had stopped replaced by a different kind of pressure.

  Blessed Virgin! Whatever was resting just inside the entrance to that narrow, grasping channel was big, stretching her tender tissues with an exquisite burning sensation bordering on pain. As her breath came in short, sharp pants, she struggled to identify the heavy presence invading her nether passage.

  It wasn’t Nicholas’s finger. Too big. Nor his cock. Too small. And too…inflexible.

  Her muscles clenched spasmodically, sending hot syrupy juice spilling from the depths of her cunt. Sweet Mary! How could something inside her ass be so exciting? So pleasurable? So arousing?

  She could feel the heavy…thing…whatever it was, its tip held in place by the sharp bite of her sphincter muscle. It was wobbling up and down with each vaginal contraction.

  She moaned in pleasure, lifting her hips, seeking more of the agony-ecstasy as she felt Nicholas’s hand grab the thing, stilling it and pushing it s
lowly deeper into her richly sensitive anus. Then pulling it out. In a little farther. Out.

  “By the Blessed Virgin! Nicholas! What is that?”

  “Relax, beloved. ’Tis not going to hurt you.”

  She steadied her breathing, letting her muscles relax, raising her hips even higher. The thing pushed in with excruciating slowness. In. In. In-n-n-n.

  Blessed Mother! ’Twas long! It seemed to pierce her halfway up her spine. She wiggled her hips, stunned, sobbing breathlessly at the black ferocity of the pleasure he was giving her. “Merciful Heaven, Nicholas! What are you doing to me? ’Tis surely a sin!”

  “Christ, beloved, does it hurt?” he asked, holding the thing still against the clenching movements of her body. The thought of hurting her tortured him. But he knew he had to prepare her for being taken by both him and Rolf. The attraction between them was definitely there, he could see it, mutual and deepening by the day. He had to make his move soon, before Rolf decided to do the noble thing and leave them both. The very thought was unbearable. “Tell me if it hurts, angel. I’ll stop.”

  “Nay! ’Tis wonderful! Don’t stop! Do it more. Fuck me with it!”

  She was practically coming. She spread her legs wide, letting her juices drip from her slit down her thighs and onto the bed.

  Nicholas began thrusting the apparatus in and out of the constricted, grasping passage of her anus. She felt every inch as it advanced and retreated, stimulating nerves that pierced her with pleasure. She thought she was going to die from the agonizing intensity of it.

  “Oh, God, Nicholas. ’Tis so good,” she moaned. “So good. Do it more, my love. Harder.” Lust raged through her like a forest fire, destroying all doubt, all protest, all thought of everything except, “More!”

  It was a harsh command, forced through the parched rawness of her throat. She was weeping with the dark force of her need. When she thought she could endure no more, he flipped her over onto her back and rose above her, the plum-colored crest of his swollen cock poised at the entrance to her vagina. She stared up at him, hungry and needy. Her eyes glazed over, her senses stunned by the savagery of the pleasure vanquishing her. Her ass was still filled with…whatever it was.

  “What—?” she mouthed up at him, staring at him through half-shut eyes.

  “Something good,” he replied in a tight voice just as he surged into her, stretching her, filling her rippling sheath with his engorged length.

  She let out a sharp, shuddering cry. Oh, God! This is more than good. This is wonderful! She shut her eyes, swallowing convulsively.

  The rod filling her ass, stretching her tender anal walls, made her sheath so much tighter, so much more sensitive to every little jerking movement of Nicholas’s huge cock buried to the hilt in her voracious cunt.

  “Something designed to intensify the pleasure for both of us,” he continued. He pulled out slowly and she thought she was going to go up in flames.

  Every exquisite thrust of his cock stroking into her rasped against the thin membrane separating it from the rod stuffing her anal passage, making it ripple and lurch inside her.

  The drawn-up mask of agony-ecstasy, pleasure-pain that was his face told her that the pleasure he was experiencing was every bit as intense as her own. Stroke after stroke drove him deep into her sheath, escalating her pleasure until she was writhing beneath him, slamming her hips up against his groin, desperately seeking her orgasm.

  And when it came, it erupted from her in a soul-destroying convulsion that bit into her so strongly the resulting explosion nearly sent the unknown device shooting right out of her tight little ass.

  She howled out her pleasure in a cataclysmic scream. She was shattered. She was destroyed. The tight walls of her vagina clenched and convulsed around his cock, around the hard staff stuffing her ass, sending Nicholas careening into his own orgasm mere seconds after hers. His answering shout joined hers.

  Fierce pleasure jolted them as the thunder and lightning of their mutual climax crashed over them, around them, through them, buffeting their bodies with wave after pulverizing wave of the most intense pleasure either of them had ever known. Their joined bodies jerked and spasmed until the storm finally passed and they lay sated, boneless, his body slumped over hers, pinning her to the mattress.

  She didn’t feel him eventually roll off her. She didn’t even realize that he had left the bed until he returned with a wet cloth, cleaning her super-sensitized skin of the slippery residue of their combined fluids.

  “Is it possible to die of pleasure?” she asked drunkenly, every slurred word an extreme effort. “Because if it is, I am.”

  He smiled. “Well spoken,” he said, digging his cloth-covered finger into her dripping sheath. “You have quite a way with words, my lady.”

  She sighed, responding to the tide of love pouring from him in waves. “Oh, aye,” she said primly. “I have made an extensive study of the English language.”

  He chuckled, rolling her onto her side and reaching around behind her to remove the item he’d stuffed inside her ass.

  She sucked in her breath, rocked with renewed pleasure, savoring its long, slow slide out of her gripping passage. It made a squelching sound, as though reluctant to leave the warm haven of her body.

  Nicholas washed it clean with a second soapy cloth and held it up for Kathryn to see.

  It was a perfect replica of a man’s penis, not as thick as Nicholas’s and slightly longer. It had a smooth, bulbous head at one end and two wrinkled testes at the other. Its gently curving length was covered with thick, ropy veins, all carved out of shining white marble.

  “Oh,” she exclaimed, touching it tentatively with her fingers. It still retained the heat from her body.

  “’Tis a marble cock,” Nicholas explained. “My great, great grandfather brought it back from the Holy Land after one of the Crusades. ’Tis said to be modeled after Saladin himself. Did you like it, beloved? Did it feel good plugging your ass?”

  “It felt—” She stopped, a blush rising high in her cheeks. She was suddenly, inexplicably shy, unable to stop herself from wondering what it would have felt like with two real cocks inside her. Two real cocks. Attached to two real men. Nicholas and—she gave her head a slight shake, trying to stop her mind from forming the word, but failing abysmally. Rolf. He was the other man she wanted. Rolf. And Nicholas. Both fucking her at the same time, front and back—Sweet Mary! Suddenly she couldn’t control her breathing.

  She ducked her head, unable to meet Nicholas’s eyes, as shame washed over her. Shame and…something else. A deep convulsing arousal that heated her blood and stained her cheeks with a blush that Nicholas misread completely.

  “Look at me, beloved,” he reached out and lifted her chin. “There’s no call to be embarrassed, my angel. What we just did was perfectly normal between people who love each other.”

  “I–I—” Her gaze slid away again. She would let him attribute her reaction to maidenly reserve. Although, God knew, she had shown absolutely none of that in any of their other bouts of lovemaking. But there was no way in heaven that she could tell him about Rolf, about her fantasies of being fucked simultaneously by her betrothed husband and his best friend. Nay. She would definitely be keeping those thoughts to herself.

  Nicholas smiled indulgently. “You are such a contradiction,” he said, though he sounded oddly pleased. “You tell me to fuck you, using that very word with total abandon, yet this embarrasses you.” He shook his head. “No wonder I love you so much.” He pushed the marble cock into her hand, curving her fingers around it. “Hold it. Feel its weight and smoothness. Tell me how it felt inside your ass.”

  “It felt…wonderful,” she whispered. “It made my…”

  “Cunt,” he supplied hoarsely. “The word is ‘cunt.’”

  “I see I’m not the only one around here to have made a study of the English language,” she said demurely.

  “I’ve only studied the important words.”

  “It made my cunt so tig
ht, it felt like I was being fucked by two cocks at the same time. I never knew such pleasure was possible.”

  A strange expression crossed his face. An expression that seemed to indicate that he was solving a puzzle of some sort. “So am I to take it, then, that you are not averse to having two cocks inside you again?” he asked carefully, his voice raw from his hoarse shouts of completion. And from the wicked turn his thoughts had taken. Thoughts that included both himself and his best friend Rolf sharing her. Pleasuring her. Loving her.

  “Nay, Your Grace,” she said, licking her lips in an innately lascivious gesture. Her shyness was gone, replaced by a look of such wanton arousal, he suddenly had difficulty breathing. “I loved the feel of two cocks inside me,” she said in a voice dark with promise. “I want that feeling again.”

  Sweet Jesu! He felt like he’d been punched. He had thought that he was drained from their recent explosive orgasms, but his cock jerked and thickened at the carnal image her words conjured up. Of his cock fucking her quim, while Rolf fucked her shapely—he shook his head in an attempt to dispel the mental image, with no success. The vision remained firmly lodged in his brain, an image of the three of them locked in a passionate embrace, and he knew to the depths of his soul that it was meant to be. And he would do whatever it took to make it happen.

  His gaze locked with hers as his eyes darkened with lust. “Christ, Kathryn, I know not how I’m going to get through breakfast without throwing you down on the table and ravishing you.”

  Her smile was wicked. “We could always skip breakfast,” she suggested boldly.

  “We could,” he agreed, tossing the washcloth across the room into the basin and carefully wrapping the marble cock back up in its red brocade pouch. “But if I’m going to ravish you properly, I shall need sustenance.” He placed the pouch on the stand beside the bed and crawled back in beside her to pull her into his embrace. “Right now, however, all I want to do is hold you. Just for a few minutes. I love holding you. I love the feel of all that soft skin against mine. I love you.”