by Jo Carlisle
Not that she was helpless and quivering in terror. Simply cautious. Humans had occupied the bottom of society’s hierarchy since the Great War had decimated the planet, making way for the global rise of vampires, demons, Fae, and shifters, and the formation of the Ruling Council, which was now divided into several territorial coalitions. The fallout was a history lesson older than time—the weaker beings succumbed to the more powerful and existed to serve their desires.
Slavery had become commonplace in the decades that followed, mostly due to the economy, and was largely voluntary. In recent years, there had been no shortage of humans and other creatures who were down on their luck and in need of work. A place to belong. To survive. That meant signing over their lives and security in exchange for the pleasure of their masters.
Others sought the auction block to fulfill their fantasy of being owned and used by an insatiable, immortal master. A vampire or demon lord or a Fae royal were the masters of choice, though one wasn’t guaranteed his or her preference. Uncertainty, of course, was part of the thrill. Several people whom Harley had known, both friends and mere acquaintances, had fallen prey to their own dark desires, had freely given their bodies and souls to experience the ultimate erotic highs—providing blood and sex to their masters in a variety of kinky and sometimes lethal ways.
A select few even died while screaming in ecstasy as they came.
So she’d heard.
Despite the sweltering night, Harley shivered, rubbed her arms, and began to walk. Her nipples had stiffened to poke at her thin blouse, and she told herself it was just the illicit direction of her thoughts. A natural reaction, that was all. She absolutely was not titillated, not the least bit interested, in becoming a predator’s plaything, the mouse to his hungry cat.
Was not. Especially after the dismal outcome of her first attempt.
Warmth chased away the chill, especially between her thighs, and she sighed. Okay, so she was a lousy liar. There was a certain erotic mystique to the idea of granting an immortal complete control over her body, knowing that once she did, she was his to do with whatever he wished. But that didn’t mean she’d ever be stupid enough to follow through again, no matter that she was one of those folks fallen upon hard times.
The darkness pressed in around her and she picked up her pace, scanning the impenetrable gloom on either side of the road. She was still much too far from New Orleans proper. She’d be lucky to make the outskirts of the city before nightfall. Damn that limo driver for not stopping to help! Again she wondered why the car had been heading away from the city rather than into it.
Suddenly, she became aware of the total, complete stillness. A heaviness in the air that had nothing to do with the temperature. Her steps faltered and stopped, and she listened. Her heart jackhammered in her chest and the blood rushed in her ears. The night creatures were hiding, and not because of Harley’s unthreatening presence. Which meant she’d better do the same, and fast. Whirling, she looked behind her, trying in vain to see how far she’d walked from the broken-down truck. She’d run back, lock the doors, and take refuge there until morning.
What I should’ve done in the first place. Idiot!
The sense of something out there, stalking, prickled her skin, and she ran—
Straight into a solid black wall. She bounced back with a screech, head snapping up as two hands grabbed her shoulders, long, cold fingers digging in painfully. Gasping, she peered into her captor’s face and her stomach lurched at the glowing red eyes set in a sharply angled face, brutally beautiful as only his kind could be.
“Let go of me, demon,” she cried, jerking futilely in his hold.
A deep rumble of amusement sounded in his broad chest. “A spitting cat. Why, those are the best kind. So much more fun than the ones that simply die of fright. Wouldn’t you say, Zenon?”
Harley froze. Two of them!
“Great Hades, Valafar! You always snare the best ones, you bastard,” the second demon declared in admiration, sidling close. “Tell me we’re not selling this one right away.”
Blinking, she cleared her throat and interrupted, trying a friendly approach. “Um, it’s great to meet you both, especially now, since my stupid truck has a flat. If you’d just give me a lift into the city, I’d be grateful.”
The pair exchanged a glance before the second one, Zenon, spoke up. “Did you hear that, Val? She’ll be grateful.”
“How grateful is the question,” Val mused, pulling her flush against his hard body. And, boy, was every inch of him solid as a rock, including the ten inches or so pressing against her tummy. The demons exchanged a knowing glance.
Harley looked between them but couldn’t see the nuances in their expressions very well in the dark. But it didn’t take a genius to figure out she’d landed right in the frying pan.
She just hoped that didn’t mean literally.
The few demons of her acquaintance rarely did favors, and never without expecting the moon in return. She had nothing to bargain with except herself, and she’d be damned lucky if they ever let her go. They weren’t to be trusted, but what choice did she have? It wasn’t like she could escape.
And that shouldn’t give her the tiniest of perverse thrills—but it did.
Licking her lips, she said, “I’m sure we can reach an understanding.”
Val dipped a claw into the V of her blouse and sliced downward, neatly shearing the material in half all the way to the hem. “I’m positive you’re correct.”
“Hey! That’s my last good shirt!”
“Where you’re going, sweet, you won’t need clothing,” he said softly.
Her pulse quickened and she found herself leaning toward him. Mmm, they both smell so good. Earthy and masculine. Totally the opposite of what she would’ve thought, but then again, their kind were masters of seduction.
“Let’s go before someone else gets wind of her and makes a challenge for our prize,” Zenon urged.
“As if they could best us.”
“Of course not. But who needs the trouble?”
“Good point. Hold on, gorgeous.” Turning Harley so that her back was against his front, Val wrapped an arm around her middle. She had about a half second to realize what he was going to do. And then the demon launched into the air with a great flap of his wings.
Her scream was cut short by the pressure of his muscular arm holding her tight, squeezing her diaphragm like a vise as he ascended rapidly. As the earth fell away, she could do nothing but hang there and cling to his arm, praying he didn’t lose his grip. In this dizzying position, she could see lights clustered in a spectacular display in the center of the city, fanning out to become sparser in the outlying areas.
It was a bird’s-eye view she never wanted to have again.
More terrified of heights than of the demons themselves, she screwed her eyes shut and desperately hoped they’d soon reach their destination. Whatever lay in store couldn’t be nearly as awful as the thought of falling thousands of feet to splatter on the ground.
Or so she told herself, right up until Val descended a few minutes later, bringing them to an easy landing in the middle of several buildings. Homes, she corrected herself, looking around. Modest and sort of plain but nice, they were laid out in a neat circular pattern with interconnecting sidewalks and a larger home in the center of the arrangement.
“You guys live here, in this . . .” She faltered, not knowing what to call the place.
“Clan compound,” Zenon supplied. “You were expecting a dirty cave or a hovel in the swamp?”
“Well, no,” she lied, and then blushed at Val’s arch look. “Okay, maybe. But only because the demons in St. Louis, where I’m from, live in the cave system and aren’t exactly winning awards for neighbor of the year.”
“Didn’t one of them go on a rampage and eat a bunch of innocent people a few months back?” Zenon frowned. “Uncivilized bastards.”
“Yeah. I’ve never eaten anyone who didn’t deserve it,” Val quipped wit
h a wink at her.
Harley stifled a shaky laugh, hoping he was kidding. In spite of her earlier fear, she was starting to like these two. They seemed okay for demons. “So, which house is yours? Do you two live together? I’m your captive, right? The deal was for you to take me into the city, you know.”
Val grinned, his teeth white and sharp in the darkness. “Satan’s balls, you ask a lot of questions. This house is mine.” He gestured, indicating the front porch of the dwelling closest to them. “No, we don’t live together, because Zenon and I are not mates, and only the mates of our kind cohabitate well. Yes, you’re my captive, and I will take you into the city. But I never said when. After you.”
Val waved a hand at the front door and it swung open, manipulated by his magic. Harley mounted the steps and entered the foyer, squashing a spurt of self-recrimination at her predicament. After all, it wasn’t her fault she’d lost her job and her apartment, forcing her to throw her meager belongings in the truck and hit the road, only to have the piece of crap break down in the middle of Bumfuck—where she was accosted by two demons.
Sexy demons. She turned as they trailed her inside, getting her first clear look at them in the lit interior of the house. Neither was wearing a shirt—not surprising because of the wings—but both wore snug jeans. Val was tall, broad shouldered, and ripped with muscles. Black hair brushed his shoulders and framed an angular face dominated by dark eyes that no longer glowed red and a grin that showed off a set of large fangs. A huge pair of black wings were settled against his back, the beautiful, shiny feathers just grazing the floor.
Beside him, Zenon wasn’t as tall or broad, but was still every bit as impressive, with similar wings and sharp fangs. His dark blond hair was shaggy and layered and just shy of touching his shoulders, and his almost-pretty face was accented by lovely blue eyes that held a glint of good humor. If it weren’t for the feathers and canines, she’d think him an angel rather than a demon.
“See something you like?” Zenon asked her, smirking.
“I know I do.” His friend’s hungry gaze was fixed on her ruined blouse.
Belatedly, she remembered he’d reduced it to little more than a scrap. Glancing down at herself, she hastily grabbed the torn halves and pulled them together, not that it made any difference. They’d already seen the goods up top, and from their expressions, they were eager to unveil a whole lot more.
“So, what happens now?” she demanded with false bravado. “If you think I’m going to make it easy for—Mmmph!”
Okay, never mind. Why bother to protest when domination was what she craved?
Faster than she could blink, Val’s mouth was eating hers, his hot tongue slipping inside to lick and explore. Her hands came up to skim over his smooth chest and brushed a nipple, which instantly perked under her touch. He groaned and broke the kiss, dragging her into a spacious sitting area and seating her on the sofa. Standing over her, he spread his legs and gazed down, and his lips quirked upward as though he could read her thoughts. Maybe he could.
This dominant position thrilled her more than was wise, as did the big bulge behind his zipper that was inches from her nose. Tentatively, she reached out for the button at his waist, then hesitated.
“Go ahead,” he said in a low, sensuous voice. “Release me.”
Trying not to appear too eager, she worked at the button and lowered the zipper, but her hands shook, giving away her nerves. She parted the denim and eased him out, noting that she’d guessed right—his cock was at least ten mouthwatering inches, thick and blue-veined, heavy balls hanging resplendent underneath. She couldn’t wait to get a taste.
Wrapping her fingers around the base, she stroked upward, relishing the silky feel of him. Hard yet smooth. Hot, almost feverish. Slowly she pumped him, smiling a little as he pushed his hips forward with a curse, seeking more.
A pearly drop oozed through the slit in the bulbous head, and she flicked it with her tongue. So good. Both salty and sweet, his essence could become addictive. She deep-throated him, taking in as much of his huge rod as possible, barely aware of Zenon nearby, hurriedly stripping off his jeans. His friend could wait. At the moment, she wanted all she could get of this yummy treat. One of his hands fisted in her hair firmly but not enough to hurt as he fucked her mouth with long strokes, groaning in pleasure. When she began to manipulate his balls, he sucked in a sharp breath and pulled back.
“Enough, or this will be over much too soon. Undress for us, pretty one.”
As Harley shimmied out of her ruined top and bra, she thought about his compliment. She was a practical woman when it came to her appeal, and while she wasn’t hideous, neither was she anything special in a world that still valued stick-thin, blond, and waifish. Standing at five feet, eight inches tall and with a voluptuous figure, full lips, high cheekbones, long auburn hair, and green eyes, she wasn’t anywhere near petite. And her looks, coupled with a matching outlook on life, were as bold as the vintage motorcycles her great-grandfather had favored.
She figured there wasn’t any changing those things about herself, so why waste an opportunity with a pair of virile males who didn’t find her lacking?
Wiggling out of her jeans, she ogled her captors, and her heart quickened. Because what was about to happen was more than the slaking of a thirst. No, it was much more. Somehow, she knew in her soul that tonight signaled a life change. Whether the change was for the better remained to be seen.
Once her jeans had been kicked aside, Val knelt between her knees and pushed her thighs wide. “My turn. Scoot to the edge.”
She did, and he draped her legs over his shoulders, lowering his mouth to her sex. His tongue tickled her clit with exquisite torture, sending tiny sparks of delight to every nerve ending. She shivered as he laved her pussy and cupped her breasts to thumb the pert nipples, giving her every ounce of attention she’d lacked for so long. Moaning, she arched into him and buried her fingers in his long, dark hair. He drove her crazy with want, but when he lifted her ass and his wet tongue sought the rosebud of her back passage, she gasped.
She’d heard of rimming, but no one had ever done it to her before. Once the initial surprise had passed, she relaxed and gave herself over to the odd sensation that rapidly spread fire from her pussy to her limbs. She melted into a puddle of bliss. His to devour.
“Oh, gods . . .” Her fingers tightened in his hair, and she wanted to say more, to beg, but she couldn’t find the words.
He knew what she wanted and laughed darkly. He licked and suckled, eating her ass like the seasoned pro he undoubtedly was. By the time he lifted his head and wiped his mouth, she writhed helplessly under him, almost insane with need.
“We’re going to fuck you, pretty. Get on your hands and knees.”
Doing as he ordered, she slid off the sofa onto the carpeted floor. Never had she felt so slutty—or so wonderful. Yeah, she should probably be more afraid of what a couple of demons would do with her after this, given the tainted reputation of their race, but caution succumbed to her adventurous spirit. Her desire to be owned.
“Look at her,” Zenon praised. “What a gorgeous piece, ours for the taking.”
Val’s eyes flashed red. “Mmm. And we’re going to ream her from both ends. Feed this hungry slave your cock, Zen.”
“With pleasure.”
The blond demon brought the head to her lips, and she opened like a baby bird. Suckled the spongy head and then swallowed him down, the length and girth every bit as daunting as Val’s meat. Still, she managed a great deal of him, tonguing and sucking the interesting ridges in time with his slow thrusts.
From behind, Val moved in, knelt, and parted her folds. The head of his cock eased inside, worked in and out for a moment to spread her cream. Then he speared her in one forceful glide, making her cry out around Zen’s length.
Gods, it was so fantastically naughty, being filled by two cocks. A pair of sexy males owning her body. Using her for their desires.
If she’d had any remain
ing doubts, now she fully understood why people sold themselves as sex slaves.
The demons established a rhythm, using her as their fuck hole. Sliding deep and withdrawing to pump her again and again, so wild and hot. How much more of this heaven could she take? Not much. Any second she’d explode.
They powered into her without mercy, her muffled squeals of delight exciting them. Their raw, musky scent of sex teased her nose and her pussy caught fire, her womb quickened—
And she went over the edge with a cry, senses shattering.
Her orgasm triggered the demons’ and they stuffed themselves as deep as possible, gripping her tight. Hot cum spurted, filling her mouth and cunt. She swallowed as fast as she could, but some of Zen’s jizz dribbled down her chin. When they were spent, each of them pulled out, petting her hair and sweaty back with such care that it surprised and pleased her. Replete, she wiped her chin and waited to see what came next.
“You did well, pretty,” Val praised as he joined his friend in front of her. He stroked his rigid length, which showed no sign of tiring. “We’re going to have such fun together . . . before we sell you on the auction block.”
Stunned, she sat back on her heels and stared at the grinning duo.
And acknowledged the rush in her veins for what it was.
Dark, decadent excitement.
2
“Slumming, vampire lord?” a husky voice inquired in amusement. “I can’t imagine what could possibly bring a fine man like you to my door.”
If Soren possessed one shred of common sense, he’d have listened to his brother and steered clear of Leila Doucet. A touch of sarcasm in her tone hinted that she’d been expecting him. Not good. Beside him, Luc adopted a deceptively loose-limbed stance as Soren greeted the priestess.
“Miss Doucet,” he said smoothly, taking her hand and briefly pressing his lips to the back of it. An old-fashioned gesture, but one that typically disarmed even the most jaded of women.
