The Twisted Kiss: Doomsyear, Book 1

by Anya Bast

Michael turned her to face him, tipped her chin up, and forced her to look into his eyes. “Everything is twisted and warped these days, Kylie. That’s why it’s important to grab on tight to whatever beauty you can find and never let it go.”

  Her eyes filled with tears, even as her heart grew huge and warm—filled with the thought of Christian and Michael. “The council was so right about you and Christian. You have become everything to me and it hardly took any time at all.”

  “It was there locked away in you already. You just needed the key. That’s what the council gave you.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek and he kissed it away. She found his mouth and slanted hers across it, sliding her tongue aggressively within. His body went still for a moment, almost like he was shocked. Then he kissed her back, hard, his tongue spearing into her mouth hungrily.

  She wanted him, wanted his body mastering hers, wanted the sweet distraction he could give her. More than that, she wanted to join with him, wanted him to become a part of her. She wanted the physical closeness that only sex could bring.

  Finding his hand, she drew it up and covered her breast with it. Her nipple went hard against his palm, stabbing through the fabric of her shirt. He dragged his thumb back and forth over it, igniting all the sensitive nerves and making her moan into his mouth.

  She found his hard cock and stroked it through his jeans. He wanted her too.

  “Is the door locked?” he murmured against her lips.

  “I don’t think so. Don’t care.” Her fingers found the button and zipper of his jeans, even as he fumbled for hers.

  She toed off her shoes and he yanked her jeans and underwear down and off, leaving her bare from the waist down. His jeans half undone, just enough to free his cock, he lifted her and carried her over to brace her back against the nearby wall. His hands cupped her buttocks and her legs curled around his midsection as he held her there, suspended like she weighed nothing.

  They were face-to-face, gazes locked. It seemed incredibly intimate and she never wanted it to end. He guided the head of his cock into her aroused sex and pushed in with a long, hard and steady thrust. Her mouth and eyes opened wide as he pushed within, as he stretched her muscles and filled her completely.

  When he was seated base-deep, she melted against him, moaning and closing her eyes. That same strange psychic link connected them, intensifying her sensations and adding to his. It became one long hum of intense pleasure. “That’s what I wanted,” she breathed. “Oh, that’s it. I needed you inside me.” She’d craved this, feeling utterly joined mind and body with him.

  Bracing her against the wall, her legs loose around his waist so he could move, he withdrew and pushed back in. Her body bumped against the wall. Someone on the other side might hear, but she didn’t care.

  Michael set up a hard, fast rhythm, his cock tunneling in and out of her. Every thrust rubbed him against her clit, sending waves of sexual bliss through her. Her gaze locked with his and didn’t budge as he took her, the muscles of his gorgeous rear flexing as he stroked in and out of her.

  “You’re heaven to me,” Michael whispered. “Every inch of you feels like home.”

  She sealed her mouth to his, whimpering as the edge of a climax flirted hard with her body. The head of his cock rubbed deep inside her. Every hard, long thrust brought her up against an explosive climax.

  Finally her orgasm burst over her like the sweetest berry. He stifled her cries with his mouth, taking all her sounds of ecstasy onto his tongue. The muscles of her sex pulsed and rippled along his pistoning length, her orgasm triggering his. His cock jumped, deep inside her, and he groaned into her open mouth.

  She collapsed into his arms, limp and sated. She realized they hadn’t used a condom—just as they hadn’t the night before. She didn’t care about that, either. For half a second, before her head ruled her heart, she hoped one of them had gotten her pregnant.

  Michael lifted her gently, kissing her temple. In his arms, for the time being, she was content. “Come on, Kylie, I’m taking you home.”

  Sometime after midnight, Christian slipped into bed as Michael slipped out to join the vamp posse. He drew her into his arms and kissed along her skin. Drowsily, she noticed the scent of the forest clung to him, earth and evergreen.

  “Michael’s leaving to hunt Louis,” he whispered into the curve of her neck. “I’m here to watch over you until morning.”

  The words hunt Louis banished some of the heavy sleep clinging to her limbs. She reached up and cupped his cheek, feeling the prick of hair on his face. He needed to shave. “Did you see him at all?”

  Christian shook his head. “Not a trace. Not even a whiff of him on the wind. He’s like a ghost.”

  “Maybe he’s gone.” She could hope.

  “No, I think he’s still out there. He’s got unfinished business with you, Kylie. I don’t think he’ll leave until it’s been resolved.” His eyes went cold as gunmetal. “Michael and I are going to make sure we resolve it before he gets to you.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. “He was human once and he loved me. Please, Christian, show him mercy.”

  “I knew him too, and I liked him. He was a great guy. That thing he is now, that’s not Louis. You have to remember that.” His arms tightened around her. “If he wants to hurt you, he’s going down. It’s sad, but that’s the way it is.”

  She turned her face away, tucking it into the curve of his neck. He was naked and his skin was warm along hers. “I understand.”

  “I love you, Kylie. Michael and I both love you more than anything in this world. We would do anything for you, risk anything.”

  She laid a gentle kiss on his skin. “I love you too, and I feel the same way.”

  They stayed twined together for a long time, then Christian pulled her beneath his body and parted her thighs. She guided him inside her and he sank deep. Her breath shuddered from her as he stroked in and out of her, slowly and sweetly.

  With soft sighs and gentle murmurings, they gave and received pleasure. Minds and body melded, she felt the hot, silky clasp of her sex around his cock, just as he experienced what it was for her to be filled by his thrusting cock.

  They came together, each other’s names on their lips, just as dawn started to pink the horizon.

  Kylie woke in the late morning between her two heavily sleeping men. She lay back down, snuggling against Michael and Christian. Sighing with contentment, she closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, but it wouldn’t come.

  Climbing over a snoring Christian, she slipped out of bed, found some clothes, and shoved her feet into her slippers. Hugging herself against the chill, she descended the stairs, going to the kitchen for a glass of water.

  She got a glass from the cupboard and poured herself a glass of water, then went to the sink and looked out the window while she drank. It was raining again, not pouring, but in a steady drum of dreariness. A dark figure near the edge of the woods that surrounded Michael’s house caught her eye. She looked closer.

  The glass dropped into the sink, shattering.

  It was Louis.

  Chapter Eleven

  Uncaring about the broken glass and oblivious to everything but the deformed shape out there in the rain, she stared. Louis knew she was here. She didn’t know how she knew that—she just did. He knew she was here, watching him, and he needed to tell her something.

  She also felt, with bone-deep certainty, that he had no wish to harm her.

  Feeling as though she were caught in a dream, she walked to the door leading out to the back yard and opened it. She could be wrong about Louis not wanting to hurt her. It was possible—logical even—that she would walk out there and he might rip her to tiny, bloody pieces.

  A week ago she might have even welcomed it, due to the weight of her guilt, but now she had something to live for. Two somethings.

  Yet she needed to confront Louis, needed to look him in the eye and tell him she was sorry. The opportunity to do that outweighed everythin
g else. So she stepped past the threshold of Michael’s safe, cozy house and walked toward Louis.

  Louis didn’t move as she approached him. He stood, hunchbacked and staring at her out of his half-human, half-wolf eyes, near a pine tree. Kylie walked slowly, cautiously. Looking at him in that twisted body, it was hard not to second-guess herself. How much of the old Louis was left?

  “Louis,” she said as she came to a stop in front of him. Rain pelted her hair and soaked her pajamas. “I’m sorry.” Her voice broke and emotion flooded her chest. She’d needed to say those words to him for so long. They came out of her on a flood of deep feeling. She fell to her knees, pressing her hands to her chest and lowering her head. “I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I just want you to know I think of you every day and…I regret.”

  No sound but the pitter-patter of the rain on the grass and the leaves in the trees. Finally, Kylie looked up. Louis had come to stand only a foot away from her. She let out a small, surprised yelp and scrambled backward, but he made no further move in her direction. Instead, he reached out a hairy, paw-like hand toward her.

  She went still, looking from the hand to his face. After a moment, she stood and took a step closer to him, slowly raising her own hand.

  “Kylie! Don’t touch him!” yelled Michael from behind her.

  Before she had a chance to react, he rushed past her with his fangs bared. Close on his heels was Christian in wolf form. A heartbeat later and the three were a tangled mess of snarling and snapping jaws and teeth.

  Kylie rushed forward, holding out both her hands. “No! Stop! Please don’t hurt him!”

  They didn’t hear her. The snarling and growling continued and she imagined flesh being ripped, blood flowing.

  “No!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, putting every ounce of her will into it. “No! Stop!”

  Still nothing. She picked up a branch, but what could she do with it? How could she get them to stop this horrible fighting? “Christian and Michael, if you love me—stop!”

  The snarling cut off and the men separated. When Michael and Christian backed away, Louis lay on the ground.

  She rushed to him. “He wasn’t going to hurt me,” she yelled furiously over her shoulder. They stepped aside to let her kneel at Louis’s side. He had a few scratches and gashes, but nothing too serious. She looked up at Christian and Michael and saw they were completely wound-free.

  “He didn’t fight us,” Michael explained. “So we pulled back.”

  She looked down at Louis. The half-yellow eyes in the hairy flesh of his eye sockets opened. “Louis? Are you all right?”

  Louis pushed to his feet and stood looking among the three of them, blood dripping from a long scratch on his curled forearm. Michael moved away when Louis glanced at him, lip curling. Christian responded with a long growl, but Kylie shot him a look that made him back down.

  The monster that used to be Louis held out his gnarled hand. Kylie stepped forward without hesitation and touched him. All the breath seemed to go out of him and he closed his eyes for a moment. Then he squeezed her hand, a gesture that seemed alarmingly human. After several seconds, he withdrew his hand, nodding first at her, and then at Christian and Michael. Giving a low, inhuman growl, he turned back to Kylie, letting his gaze linger on her face for a long moment.

  Then, leaping back into the foliage, Louis was gone.

  Kylie stood in the rain, soaked through and chilled to the bone, staring at the now-quiet forest that Louis had disappeared into. Christian and Michael were silent beside her.

  Letting out a slow breath, she closed her eyes. She felt forgiven. Blessed even. It had been as though Louis had been happy she’d found a match in Christian and Michael, like it had freed him in some way. And if Louis felt freed…so did she. Now they both had closure.

  Michael scooped her up into his arms and headed inside with her. She was grateful since she wasn’t completely sure her legs would work. All of them were soaked. Christian followed behind, looking over his shoulder and growling as though he thought Louis would pop out to threaten her at any moment.

  But Kylie had a feeling Louis was gone for good.

  Kylie shut off her blowtorch, backed away from the heated metal and pushed her welder’s mask to the top of her head. Lips pursed, she surveyed her work.

  Finally, she was finished.

  She set the blowtorch aside and looked at the statue from the base to the top. It started out, even and compact, arching toward the sky. Slender rods of metal separated into two smooth, twining columns, reaching higher and then coming together. Where the rods met, the piece exploded into chaos, twisting and mottled, the sculpture no longer aspiring heavenward, but reaching in all directions in a symphony of confusion.

  The Supe Council had just sent word that the statue was to be placed in the middle of Sweet Rock as a symbol of the sacrifices everyone had made post-doomsyear. Every day she would see the statue and think of Louis.

  She removed her gloves and set her welder’s mask next to the blowtorch. Then she turned off the light and, with one last look at her artwork, closed the door.

  Christian pulled Kylie down onto his lap, making her yelp with surprise, and kissed her temple. Smiling, Michael watched them from the doorway of the dining room, an edge of desire for their mate lighting his eyes.

  Michael loved and wanted Kylie every bit as much as he did. They were allied in their caring for her and they both knew that Kylie loved them back just as much. Finally they’d found their bond and Kylie was at the center of it.

  Kylie snuggled against his chest, fitting her head into the crook of his neck and sighing. She held out her hands to Michael, who settled down beside them. She slipped her hand into his. “You two are everything I didn’t know I needed,” she murmured.

  “And you’re everything Michael and I knew we needed.” He met Michael’s gaze over the top of her head and they shared a silent communication.

  It was time.

  Michael stood, left the room and came back with two small boxes. He slipped one to Christian, then knelt in front of Kylie, who straightened warily.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, her gaze skating between the two small boxes.

  “Back before doomsyear, men would ask women to marry them,” said Christian.

  “Yes, I know. My father told me. Men gave women diamond rings as a promise they would marry them one day.” She paused. “Those are rings?”

  “Yes. Not diamond, but just as pretty.” Christian opened his box to reveal a silver ring with sapphire stones.

  Michael opened his to reveal a matching ring. “I had Henry Dougherty make them, using stones from one of my mother’s rings. Men and women don’t marry formally anymore, but we want you to wear these rings anyway as a symbol of our love and commitment to you.”

  Kylie smiled and held out her hands. “I would be overjoyed to wear them. In fact, I’ll never take them off.”

  Michael and Christian slipped the rings onto the third finger of each of her hands. Smile on her face, she held her hands out, admiring them, and then launched herself into Michael’s arms, kissing him all over his face.

  She reached up and pulled Christian onto the floor with them and kissed him all over his face too. “I love you both so much.”

  “We love you too, baby,” murmured Christian. “And we intend to show you just how much. Over and over—”

  “—and over,” Michael finished.

  “Mmm…” She squirmed beneath them, her voice going lower. “I can’t wait to get started.”

  Neither could they.

  About the Author

  Anya Bast is the author of numerous works of romantic fiction, mostly all paranormal and mostly all scorching hot. She lives in the country with her husband, daughter, eight cats, a dog, and an odd assortment of rescued animals.

  Somewhat reclusive by nature, she can be drawn out with a good bottle of red wine, classic movies, or good music. When she's not writing, she can be found trying to gro
w organic vegetables, shopping in thrift stores for that perfect piece of clothing, or dreaming about travel to some faraway country.

  She loves to hear from readers. Contact her via her web site www.anyabast.com.

  Look for these titles by Anya Bast

  Now Available:

  Taken

  Sometimes love knocks softly…and sometimes it breaks down your door.

  Taken

  © 2009 Anya Bast

  Anne’s morning starts like any other normal day—and ends in a race for her life. The surprise that interrupts her regular date with a latte looks a lot like Frankenstein, except this monster is for real. And it chases her straight into the arms of two mouthwatering hunks who whisk her away from everything she knows. That would be Earth.

  Suddenly life isn’t so normal anymore.

  Caleb and Van have been watching Anne for several weeks. Women are scarce in their world, a situation that sometimes forces two or more males to share one wife between them. Anne is their perfect match. Now all they have to do is convince her of that—while trying desperately not to let their intense desire for her scare her away.

  Then there’s the little matter of protecting her from the Guardians, who want to make sure no match is ever made…

  Warning: Contains explicit language, ménage a trois sex scenes and big scary monsters.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Taken:

  When she’d been standing in line for her non-fat latte that morning, Anne had never expected to be running for her life only moments later.

  Latte long since splattered on the sidewalk, Anne careened around the corner of a random alley, scraping her bare arm on the corner of a brick building in the process. She stifled a cry of pain and nearly collided with a banged-up silver trash can, nimbly dodged the object, and then leaped over a puddle of dank, cold water on the pavement.