by Jo Carlisle
Harley stared as Soren reached out, tugged the gag from between her teeth, and pulled it down to leave the material looped around her neck. She sucked in a sharp breath as her master pushed his cock inside, filling her completely. Their gazes met, held. Harley actually felt the mystical bond form between them, connecting their souls.
How, when the darkness held Soren just as captive as his restraints held Harley? Was their connection strong enough to vanquish the evil?
“Ohhh,” she gasped, lifting her hips even more.
“That’s right, baby. Open your body to your master. Beg me.”
“Fuck me, please,” she groaned.
Soren’s eyes darkened as he began to pump. “Who’s fucking you?”
“Master,” she whispered helplessly. “Fuck me, master. Please.”
“Good girl. Sweet . . . so sweet.” His hips pumped harder, and he threw back his dark head. “Ah yesss.”
Harley surrendered. Body and soul. She belonged to this man, would do anything he commanded. In a daze, she watched Soren fuck her, his tanned, muscular chest gleaming with sweat, strong arms supporting her thighs. Every stoke pushed her higher, driving her closer to the edge.
“Please let me come,” Harley begged.
He grinned darkly. “No.”
Harley groaned, helpless, her misery so great she almost missed the subtle flick of Soren’s hand, signaling his friend into a different position.
Valafar spread his legs near her head, his movements lithe, graceful, his black wings tucked against his back. His eyes smoldered with lust, his long, thick cock iron hard.
Soren pulled out, and Harley whimpered at the loss, making her master laugh. Soren loosened the chains attached to her collar and the handcuffs, just enough to give a bit of play.
“On your hands and knees facing Valafar, baby,” her master ordered. “Spread your legs.”
Harley quickly complied, and Soren positioned himself behind her. Her master parted her cheeks, slid his cock into Harley’s ass until he was buried deeply once more. Curious as to what Valafar thought of her submission, she looked up at the demon, only to find affection shining on his face. Acceptance. Her own arousal throbbed anew, desperate for relief.
“Rub your face all over Val’s cock and balls,” her master whispered, voice hoarse with passion. “When the three of us are together, you will submit to him as my second. You will honor and serve him, same as you do for me.”
Thrilled, she did as commanded, the action eliciting a moan from both of her lovers. Gods, she’d never dreamed of anything so wicked, so darkly beautiful, as being ravaged by two powerful males in quite this way. Burying her face in the demon’s groin, she rubbed the delicate testicles, the smooth cock, against her lips, inhaling the musky scent of the male’s arousal. She arched her back, spreading her knees farther, giving her master full access, showing her total submission. Soren gripped her hips and began to pump her ass slowly, torturing her past endurance.
“Lick Val’s balls. Suck them.”
Her eager tongue laved the taut sac, teased the twin orbs underneath the flesh. Then she took them in her mouth, sucking, loving Val’s strangled groan.
“Now take his cock down your lovely throat.”
Valafar tangled his strong fingers in Harley’s hair, stabbing his cock into her mouth. Harley took all of him deep down her throat, until the demon’s balls slapped her chin to the rhythm of Soren’s thrusts.
Oh, gods! Both males filled her, fucking her hard and fast. Her arms trembled under the weight of their assault, her aching pussy scorching hot. Soren must’ve read her mind.
“You will not have release,” he panted, pumping his hips. “We’re going to drown you in cum, beautiful, so that you know who owns you.”
Yes, yes. Harley’s master slammed his cock into her ass while Val pounded his shaft down her throat. Harley took all the punishment they dished out, rejoiced in the pain, the ecstasy. But she hurt so gods-damned bad with the need to explode, she couldn’t stand it. Tears welled in her eyes.
Her master shot off with a loud cry, sending his load deep into her ass. Saints, yes, master, her brain echoed, though she couldn’t yell her joy. Valafar followed, spewing hot cum again and again, fingers wrapped in Harley’s hair, grinding into her face. Harley swallowed every drop, licked him clean. When both of her lovers pulled away, the tears escaped to roll down her face.
“Please,” she choked. “I need.”
“I can see that.” She heard the smile in Soren’s voice. And something else: affection. It gave her hope. “A good slave bows to her master’s every desire. You’ve done an excellent job. Come for me.”
Harley came so violently, she felt as though the force would turn her inside out. She jerked hard, pulsing on and on. Spilling hot warmth until her body jerked in spasms of aftershock.
She closed her eyes, hardly aware of Soren pulling her from Valafar. Enfolding her in his strong arms, laying them both against the pillows, and cradling her against his chest. Harley burst into tears and cried hard, shaking, unable to explain why.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby,” Soren whispered, pressing tender kisses into his hair. “I’m here. I’ll take care of you now, always.”
“Me, too, as your friend,” Valafar said. He scooted in close to Harley’s other side, stroking her hair, kissing her cheek.
Harley cried until she was exhausted and the sobs tapered to hiccups. Both males continued to hold and comfort her, softly reassuring her of their love.
“Please remember me,” she begged Soren, clinging to him. Sniffling. He’d called her baby, spoken to her with tenderness. He was coming back to her. He had to be.
“I do,” he whispered. “After what you just gave to me, how could I not?”
“Thank the gods!”
Safe, warm, and happy for the moment, she drifted away to the deep, resonant tones of their voices.
And to the bittersweet knowledge that their happiness could be fleeting. Soon they would have to take action against Leila. But the witch was a powerful, formidable enemy. Soren couldn’t hide indefinitely.
“I’ll always remember you,” Soren said. “Now sleep.”
Wrung out, Harley succumbed to darkness, and knew nothing more.
11
Soren’s head pounded. Soren’s head pounded.
The effort of suppressing his dark half, of keeping it at bay, was taking a toll. Rubbing his temples, he sat up in bed and tried to make sense of the jumble of images assaulting him from the past twelve hours or so. Like puzzle pieces, he worked and reworked them until he had some that fit.
Leila and Arron. The torture. His eventual breaking at her hands.
And Harley. Beautiful Harley. She, not the pretender, was his mate. She’d submitted so wonderfully to him, her soul reaching out to his like a beacon of light. He couldn’t help but respond. Latch on to that shining beam and gather it into himself, force the snarling beast into a corner.
On the other side of a sleeping Harley, Valafar stirred and opened his eyes. One of his black wings was stretched across her as though holding her, but he retracted it as he sat up. “It’s morning already? Ugh.” He wiped at his eyes.
“Don’t do sunrise?”
“I don’t do daylight, period,” the demon grumbled. “Being nocturnal suits me just fine.”
“Well, we have to get up if you’re going to help me out of the mess I’ve gotten myself into.”
“True.” The prince slid naked out of bed and stretched his arms and wings, which brushed the ceiling. “I can tell being your friend is going to cause me no end of trouble.”
“You’re probably right. Hope you can handle it.”
“I’ve dealt with bigger problems than you and lived to tell. I’ll manage.”
Soren thought for a moment, his heart clenching. “Gods, my brothers. We need to find out what’s happened to Luc. The wolf, Arron, said he didn’t find a body. And Aldric! Where could he be?”
“I’ve still got a few
trusted members of my clan working on it. There are far too many disappearances for my liking, and I’d bet my wings that your demoness has her hand in all of it.”
“A female demon? Is that what the witch truly is?”
“She a half-breed, actually. She’s used her demon magic for decades to masquerade as a garden-variety voodoo witch. Her other half is something out of your worst nightmares.”
“As if the first half wasn’t mean enough? What the hell is the other?”
“I’d like to know that, too,” Harley murmured sleepily, rolling onto her back to smile briefly at Soren. He returned it and reached for her hand.
“Gorgon.”
Soren’s brows furrowed. “Isn’t that a creature from mythology?”
“An intelligent creature. They’re rare, but they do exist. Like most citizens, you’ve never met one until now because they keep to themselves and mask their appearance. In true form, they’ve a face only a mother could love, as the saying goes.”
Soren began to feel ill. “So she doesn’t really look like a human? What’s her true form, then?”
“Being half-demon, I’d suspect she’d have something of our features. An angular face, perhaps a pair of wings. But if she were only a demon, she’d still be attractive even when she wasn’t masking her looks. For example, when I unleash the full power of my demon, my features become sharp and my skin bluish, but I still basically look like me.”
“Makes sense.”
The demon continued. “I’ve never seen Leila in true form, but I’d venture a guess that her demon’s features would be combined with those of her serpent.”
“Her what?” he croaked.
“Um, snake. You know that’s what a Gorgon is, right? A snake woman.”
He stared at Val in horror. “Like Medusa? With a head full of writhing snakes and a gaze that turns a person to stone?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, shit. I think I’m going to be sick.” He’d fucked a snake woman. Had given her control over his body and mind.
“No time for that. You’ve got a much bigger issue at hand, and that’s how to kill the bitch.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve got any ideas in that department?”
“You have a sword that will slay any creature,” Val said. “I know you have been forbidden to use it, but surely in this case the Council wouldn’t punish you—”
“It won’t matter whether they do or not, my friend. We both know why.”
Harley’s attention bounced between them with growing alarm. “Why not? Won’t you get in trouble for using the sword if you’re not supposed to?”
Clearing his throat, he took both of her hands in his. Telling her this was so hard when they’d just found each other. “Baby, they won’t really have to discipline me because of my bond with Leila. When she’s killed, I’ll either die with her or my beast will take over completely and I’ll have to be terminated.”
“No,” she whispered, tears welling in her pretty green eyes. “I won’t accept that.”
“You have to, love.” He leaned over, kissed her lips gently. “Even now the damned thing rages inside me. It’s such an effort to hold him back, and the only reason I’m able is because of you.”
“Then maybe our bond will be enough to break hers!” she cried, tears spilling over. “You don’t know for sure.”
Heart wrenching, he wiped them with his thumb, but they kept falling. “Maybe you’re right. We’ll have to hope it’s true.” Then there would still be the issue of breaking the law, and he’d wind up being executed, anyway, for taking justice into his own hands for a second time. But Harley didn’t need to be reminded.
“I’m not going to ask where you keep your sword,” Val said, interrupting. “But I’d suggest you get it and keep it close at hand. I’m going back to my clan to round up a few good demons. While I’m there I’ll dispatch a few more to search for Luc and Aldric, and then we’ll return to guard the resort.”
“I should send the guests home, too, though I hate to do that. I’ll give them a free pass to come back whenever they like.”
“Do that,” Val said, nodding. “Their safety must come first. By the time the Gorgon returns, the grounds will be clear of innocent bystanders and we’ll bar her from entry.”
A thought hit him. “That’s another thing—where is she returning from? She has a tendency to disappear for hours. My brothers were going to check into where she goes, but never got the chance.”
“My guess? She needs to spend time in freshwater to keep her skin from drying out, so I think it’s likely that she’s found a pond to visit.”
“Okay, so what next?” Harley asked. “Is there a way to just subdue her and turn her over to the Council, let them deal with her punishment?”
“We can try,” Val said, his tone cautious. “But that might be much more difficult than killing her, because you’d have to cover her eyes first and bind her, and that means being in reach of the venomous serpents on her head.”
“Scratch that idea,” Harley muttered.
Val agreed. “Easier to get in a lethal strike and be done with it.” Waving a hand, he clothed himself in jeans. “I’m off. You two get the guests out of here and then stay out of sight, if you can, until I return with reinforcements.”
“Will do.” Soren shook the big demon’s hand, feeling a particular sense of dread when the prince vanished. He hated to be negative, but he couldn’t see how this was going to end well, short of a miracle.
Harley touched his arm. “Why don’t we have a shower and then tend to the guests?”
Most folks were nice about the disruption. Once everyone was gone, he and Harley went into the house. Soren led her to Aldric’s office, where he swore her to secrecy about the location of the swords.
“I want you to know where they are in case you have no other option but to use one. But you can’t tell a soul where I’m taking you,” he said quietly. “Our lives could depend on it.”
“I won’t, I swear.”
He pressed a panel next to a wall of books, and the bookcase slid open to reveal a room that was deep but not too wide. The inside of the panel, walls, floor, and ceiling were thick and lined entirely with titanium, forming a box that could withstand nearly any onslaught. At the end of the rectangle, straight ahead, was a long table. On the table were three aged leather cases awaiting the masters who had been forced to lock them away so many years ago.
Soren walked to his case, ran a palm lovingly over the leather with his initials hand tooled on the top. “I haven’t opened this since the day the Council threatened to execute me if I so much as held it again.”
“That’s harsh.”
“Is it? I killed the demons who murdered Helena, without sanction. Afterward, I was so mad with grief, my brothers had to chain me. It was months before I learned of my punishment.”
“You needed to avenge your beloved mate.”
“Yes. And I’d behead the demons again, if I could.”
No sense putting this off. Flipping the latches, he opened the lid. Harley’s reverent breath echoed his own.
“Soren, it’s beautiful.”
“As much as any instrument of death can be,” he said with a humorless laugh.
“Why is that, I wonder? Swords are so romantic, and yet their purpose is brutal.”
“It brings to mind an image that the wielder of the weapon is fighting for a just cause, even if that isn’t always so.”
He gazed at the workmanship, seeing it through her eyes, as though for the first time, and agreed that it was indeed a work of art. The curved hilt was made of gold, with jewels encrusted in the center just above the grip. The broad silver blade was sharp as a razor on both sides—and blessed by a druid priest many centuries ago to always deal death upon any evil.
It would serve him well in his final stand.
A sudden sense of urgency stiffened his spine, like the hair rising on the back of the neck when one is being watched. “She’s coming. Le
t’s close up and get out of here.”
Hurriedly, he shut the case and ushered her out, sword in hand. Out in the office, he sealed the room, relieved to have it hidden once more but still anxious to get out of this area of the house. If the Gorgon caught them here, she’d search until she found the hiding place.
They made it all the way to the foyer before the front door crashed open and at least a dozen demons rushed inside. Two ugly brutes grabbed Harley, who screeched and tried to yank away, to no avail. They were much stronger than a human female.
“Stay back!” Soren hefted the sword and the demons froze, eyes widening as they realized what he held. “Let her go before I cut you all down!”
“They answer to me, vampire.”
The demons parted and Soren’s gaze took in the awful sight before them. “Harley, don’t look into her eyes.”
“I won’t!”
He gaped in disbelief. Where her feet should have been were snakes. They crawled along, acting as her “legs” to move her forward. Her torso was slim but entirely covered in blue scales, as were her bare breasts and arms. Her face was angular and blue snakes writhed on her head.
He’d fucked this wretched thing. And enjoyed it.
“Love the real me, mate?” She chuckled at her own humor.
“I’m not your mate.”
“My blood calls to you.” She sounded so confident.
And it was true. Regardless of her appearance, the beast inside him did crave another taste of the wicked rush of her blood and the dark place it took him. He battled that lust, using the disgust he felt to assist him. “No. You’ve nothing I want.”
“Tsk, not true. I have your Harley,” she said in amusement, pointing to the demons holding her prisoner. “I’ll make your choice simple. Drop the sword and kneel before me, or watch as I have them tear her fragile human body limb from limb.”
“Don’t listen to her,” his mate hissed urgently. “She’ll just double-cross—”
One of the demons jerked her arm hard, making her cry out in pain, and that’s all it took to unleash his beast. Kill the fucker. With a roar, he lunged forward and cleaved the offender’s head from his shoulders. The bastard was dead before the rest of his body hit the marble tile.
