by Jayne Rylon
“You wouldn’t want to have me? Or is it Dagan who would object?” Uncertainty colors his automatic response. How have I missed the depth of his emotions? His cool, bookish façade hides feelings that run deeper than I imagined.
I gather his stiff body to mine and squeeze him before meeting his searching gaze. “Dagan and I have often talked of proposing a more permanent relationship between us. We only delayed because we wanted to be sure you had the chance to search for a lover who could be yours alone. In fact, that’s why we came to you that day. Once you’d dismissed Sylvia, we knew you were meant to be ours.”
He blinks back the tears gracing his full lashes like dew on a crisp morning. “The two of you are all I’ve ever wanted. The others were just a distraction. And now I stand to lose you both. Let me do this.”
Warren’s fingers dig into my upper arms with bruising pressure, a testament to his desperation. He has never touched me with anything but the utmost care before.
“How do we begin?” I ask. Relief erodes the tension in his pinched expression. His head dips forward until his forehead rests on mine and we stand eye to eye for a long moment. Then the scholar returns and he’s all business.
“Stay here.”
Warren uses his gift for preternatural speed to run to his laboratory and gather supplies. He transports a sturdy table made of scarred planks along with all the necessary supplies in the blink of an eye. He wastes no time, levitating me onto the rough wood. The coarse surface abrades my bare skin. I shift restlessly, in search of a comfortable position. Before I find one, his power wraps around my wrists and ankles, tugging them to the corners of the platform.
I gape at Warren from my vulnerable, spread-eagle pose. Where is the careful, submissive man I’ve come to love?
“There is no time to waste on pleasantries, Queen. Dawn approaches.”
The menacing snick of metal shackles encircling my limbs both frightens and thrills me. Instinct prods me to test the binding but the mystical artifacts prevent my magic from undoing the clasps. I am truly held at Warren’s mercy.
Before my eyes, a silver ceremonial robe replaces his modern clothing, transforming his innocent appearance into the image of a powerful sorcerer straight out of legend. If anyone can save Dagan, this man can. I swallow past the lump in my throat when he turns to a thick, leather-bound book—the one he compiles his notes in—lying open on a stand nearby. Sandy hair feathers over Warren’s forehead in familiar disarray as he peruses the flowing script.
He mutters to himself as he reads. “Yes, third circle here. Then the forms, finally the call.” He nods one last time before assessing me. His intense stare burns my bound body. “Dagan’s spirit won’t be able to resist you.”
Warren raises his hands, palms up. His eyes close and all the lights douse. Panic threatens to overwhelm me as I struggle to see in the supernatural darkness. Night never blinds a vampire. I thrash against the restraints, terrified, but I can’t break free.
“Warren?” I hardly recognize the feeble croak that escapes my throat.
His fine-boned hand clamps over my mouth an instant before he whispers in my ear. The murmur comes so soft I wouldn’t be able to hear him if not for my augmented senses. “The incantation has begun. Any misspoken words can have unintended consequences. You must not use your powers either, they can interfere. Forgive me, Queen.”
I wonder what he’s apologizing for a moment before a scrap of cloth wads in my mouth, trapped by another strip bound behind my head. Warren’s hand lingers, stroking my hair until I can control my instinct to fight. Once more, his barely audible voice snakes through my fear. “Last chance to stop, after this we’re committed or the results will be disastrous. Are you sure?”
I nod, the only way I can communicate. Nothing can revoke my determination to attempt the ritual if there’s even a remote chance of success. Besides, the poison I ingested already burns through my veins. The successful spell presents my single chance at survival.
Once again, Warren removes his support to continue the rite. I’m alone in the dark.
Is this what it’s like when you die?
My skin crawls, my nipples draw tight and goose bumps rise up on my arms as powerful sorcery pervades the room. One by one, red candles illuminate the inky blackness as Warren chants in a monotonous tone. The flickering light outlines his sleek shape as he circles my immobilized form. With every flame that ignites, an answering spike of arousal slams through my core. There is something seductive about the authority he wields and my helplessness before him. He imbues my body with the desire to attract Dagan’s soul.
The rhythm of his mellifluous speech entrances me. Several minutes pass, maybe as long as a half hour, before I’m aware of him standing beside my shoulder. Hundreds of candles, positioned in three rings encircling me, set the room ablaze.
My eyes widen as Warren plucks one from the iron stand and then holds it aloft over my exposed torso. His gaze flicks to mine as his hand tilts, causing the molten wax to bulge along the lip of the candle. The power surging in the air swirls the curls around Warren’s face. Beautiful and dangerous, he towers over me.
The first drop of maroon paraffin falls as though in slow motion. Warren’s arm lifts high, providing the material plenty of time to cool. I watch with a mix of fascination and horror as the scalding blob races ever nearer. I’m thankful for the fabric that muffles my moan of pain, and arousal, when the bead finally splatters across the taut skin of my abdomen.
Something wild rears up in Warren’s stare. Then he releases a thin stream of wax that forms the foundational line of a spell form down the center of my torso. I writhe within the confines of my bonds, the heat soaking into my core and setting me on fire. Moisture gathers between my legs while Warren continues unaffected. All the while, he maintains the ancient language of the incantation.
I brace myself when the next spurt of liquid drapes across my breasts. My heels drum on the wood beneath me but the sting quickly morphs into desire. Three, four more times, Warren decorates my flesh with the scorching substance. Each flare of pain mixes with the enchantment pulsing around us, instilling me with uncontrollable lust. I would beg him to touch me if this damn gag didn’t dampen my cries.
He returns the candle, now a sliver of its previous size, to the ceremonial holder. His hands fan out over my abdomen and his voice raises. The invocation reaches a fevered pitch.
Then all is silent.
The atmosphere is heavy, laden with energy. Warren unties the knot on my gag then grabs a goblet from a pedestal near the tome of instructions. He gulps—his masculine throat bobbing—before leaning over me, removing the cloth from my mouth then sealing his lips over mine. The acidic tang of ceremonial wine spills onto my tongue as he shares the offering.
Hungry, I delve into the recesses of his sweet mouth to sop up the last drops. He kisses me with unleashed fervor the like of which I’ve never experienced from our docile playmate. His robe vanishes then he flies on top of me, steamy flesh pressed to steamy flesh. My head drops with a thunk against the table, exposing my neck to Warren in the clearest sign of a vampire’s trust and desire.
I imagine Dagan. How he would love to watch Warren ravish me while I sucked Dagan’s glorious cock! A faint pressure daubs my lips as though I can actually feel his engorged tip applying for entrance.
Warren distracts me from the sensation as he nibbles his way between my breasts, his long body nestled in the cradle of my thighs. His tongue laves my belly, soothing the sting of his love bites. He’s always been attentive to my pleasure.
I moan when he suckles one hard nipple against his razor sharp teeth for a moment before continuing his journey, leaving a trail of passion in his wake. His elegant hands surround my hips, gripping them tight before he buries his face in my pussy.
Warren’s wicked tongue tortures me, flicking and flittering in delicious eddies around my clit and the swells of my engorged labia. I strain against the shackles, desperate to press my wet folds
against his talented mouth. A whimper of delicious frustration seeps from my parted lips.
Being bound always enhances my desire. It reminds me of the time Dagan captured my wrists then pinned me to our oversized bed, giving Warren free rein to take pleasure from my exposed flesh. Instead, he’d made a study of all the ways to tease me, driving me wild—just as he was now—for hours until I nearly collapsed from exhaustion after dozens of orgasms. My forearms prickle in the spot Dagan’s hands had encircled.
A ray of panic invades my sphere of longing. What if we cannot reach my mate? The light touch on my arm evaporates as my focus scatters. Warren’s head snaps up, his silent communication imploring me to concentrate.
He provides incentive, his finger dipping inside the moist entrance of my pussy. Another traces the tight ring of muscle below. The dual sensations force me to recall the special times I’ve spent sandwiched between the sweat-slicked bodies of my two lovers.
Dagan has always been an ass man. He loves to fondle, spank and fuck my rear. While I relish submitting to my mate in the most primitive display of possession, being with both Dagan and Warren enhances the experience. It allows my mate to take what he needs yet provides me the means to find my own satisfaction. Nothing can compare to the sensation of two hard cocks pistoning inside me while I’m cocooned in the heat from Dagan’s muscular body and Warren’s trim form.
Warren’s exploratory digits seem to expand inside me. I can no longer deny that there’s more at work than our earthly flesh. I tense then peek at the vampire between my legs. His concerned gaze fixes on mine, careful to observe the situation. He nods, reassuring me and driving me higher when his face nuzzles my pussy.
I gasp when he sucks my clit into his warm, moist mouth. Pleasure zings through my veins, forcing me to rock my hips, begging for more. I watch him ingest every drop of my arousal so I witness the moment when his control snaps. His eyes turn wild, almost possessed. He lunges up then covers my body.
With one thrust, Warren enters me completely. The sudden intrusion of his long cock shocks my accommodating muscles. I can only remember one other time he conquered me with an intensity nearing this. Dagan had commanded Warren to ride me hard while my mate watched, stroking his thick erection. All the while he had coached Warren, encouraging him to fuck me harder, faster. Just as Warren is doing now.
On the edge of my vision, an insubstantial apparition coalesces. I can almost picture Dagan as he was that night, fist wrapped around his meaty cock, his chest bellowing with harsh breaths as he witnessed Warren use me and make me love it.
Warren’s shaft jerks inside me and, somehow, I know he is remembering the same liaison. His thrusts grow frenzied. His steel-hard flesh rasps against a delicious spot deep inside me. On any other night, it would be more than enough to make me come.
My orgasm is elusive. After so many lifetimes with Dagan, I struggle to tip over the edge in his absence. No matter how skilled Warren is, or how amazing his long cock feels stroking my pussy, I miss my connection with Dagan.
I conjure an image of the most erotic night of our lives. The night Dagan and I first discussed mating Warren.
After several rounds of escalating lovemaking, Warren had buried himself inside me one last time while Dagan recovered his stamina. I took Dagan’s half-hard cock in my mouth, simply enjoying the taste of our mingled essence and the heavy weight of his shaft on my tongue. I tried to fondle his balls with one hand but our positions limited the motion of my arm.
I rolled away, letting him slip from my lips, intending to pleasure his sac with my mouth. Before I could, Warren captured my jaw and guided me to him for a searing kiss. His moan, and the thickening of his shaft inside me, made it clear he enjoyed the flavor of Dagan’s musk. We turned together, me to lave Dagan’s testicles and Warren to steal his first taste of cock.
Warren never faltered in his pounding rhythm inside me as he engulfed Dagan’s instantly rejuvenated erection in wet heat. From my vantage point, I watched Warren’s throat flex as he worked the head of Dagan’s cock while I lapped at my mate’s balls. When Dagan fisted his hand in Warren’s hair then tugged our lover’s face to his abdomen, Warren shivered inside me.
I can almost hear the strangled groan Dagan made right before he said, “I need to fuck right now. Get out of the way, Warren. Or I’m going to take your virgin ass!”
Warren didn’t move.
Above me, Warren gasps and his eyes glaze over. Just as they had that night. Behind him, the flickering candlelight casts a shadowy outline of Dagan mounting our lover. Warren bucks on top of me, grinding his shaft into my greedy pussy then retreating as he impales himself on the ghost of Dagan’s cock.
The carnal illusion floods my soul with passion. Wave after wave of pleasure crash over me, threatening to drown me in sensation. My orgasm triggers Warren’s. Jets of his hot cum fill me as his cock pulses somewhere far below the surface of my belly. My muscles clamp around his jerking flesh, wringing every last drop of ecstasy from our climaxes.
I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I can’t think or fear. All I can do is accept what he gives me and wish Dagan were here to share it.
A shockwave of ecstasy, magic and love radiates out from the juncture of our bodies. Warren tips his head back and roars with completion. A starburst of white light flares so bright I squint into the gleam for any sign of success even as I expect to burst into flames from the searing desire blazing inside me. Then the sparkle fades, leaving me gasping in the wake of our magically enhanced coupling.
Warren flops beside me when the black satin sheet across the room flutters to the ground. Nothing lies beneath it. For long moments, the only sounds in the room are the sputter of candles about to burn out, our harsh panting and the clank of the room’s automatic shutters blocking out the breaking dawn.
I close my eyes, terrified. Have we failed? I prepare myself to surrender to the void in payment for the faulty spell. The death of a vampire leads to no afterlife.
Chapter Five
Instead of the abyss devoid of sound and light I expect, I hear the most beautiful thing in the entire universe.
Dagan’s gruff, arousal-laden voice barks, “First, you disobey your king by dabbling in dark magic you don’t fully understand. Now you two will stand aside and let your mate suffer?”
My eyelids fly open. Dagan kneels behind Warren, his gorgeous cock in hand. The sheen in his eyes proves he comprehends the gravity of the situation despite his flip comment. He guides his shaft along the furrow of Warren’s ass but both of us are too exhausted, and overcome with relief, to do more than cling to each other as tears of gratitude roll over our cheeks.
“Dagan…” I try to express the hundreds of emotions swirling in my mind but it’s unnecessary. All three of us understand what must happen. We require no instructions, the magic lives in us. Instincts drive Dagan to complete the ceremony by grounding himself in our world once more.
He jerks his shaft with lazy grace while he murmurs to us. “It was so dark, so cold. Then I saw a beam of light composed of brilliant colors. I knew it was you. Both of you. It was painfully beautiful, the way I feel when you’re with me, when we’re making love. It hurt to move, to swim against the current sweeping me away. But I couldn’t let it take me. We belong together.”
His last word draws out to a growl. He’d fought to return to us like the warrior king we’ve loved for eons. I’ve never craved him more. The tempo of his hand crescendos and his voice takes on an ancient inflection when he pronounces. “You are mine. And I am yours. Forever.”
It’s impossible to forget the moment he made that vow to me when we were new, barely turned vampires. There isn’t a shred of doubt in my soul that reforming our sacred oath, including Warren in our sphere of mated bliss, is part of our destiny.
I surround Warren’s trembling fingers with my own. Dagan uses his enhanced magic to move the three of us, still linked, to our marriage bed. Though I can recognize the fingerprint of his life force with my eyes
closed, it is even more spectacular than before. Unbreakable.
The net of his unique power cradles us until we float onto the down mattress. I’ve always thought the enormous bed, raised on a gold-leafed dais, to be an over-extravagant indulgence by my romantic husband. At the dawn of this new phase of our lives, the ornate canopied enclosure makes the perfect backdrop for our extended pledges.
This time, sorcery ensures their truth. The Phoenix Incantation has granted all my seemingly futile hopes, my desperate wishes. No amount of time with the two men I love could suffice. I’ll need eternity to illustrate the depth of my devotion. And bask in theirs in return.
In unrehearsed unison, Warren and I each claim one of Dagan’s giant hands then recite the vow in return. “You are mine. And I am yours. Forever.”
Dagan crushes me to his chest as he settles onto his side in the mountain of assorted pillows. He drags Warren closer until I am sandwiched between them. The heat of their toned muscles surrounds me but only provides a millionth of the warmth I derive from the emotions churning within my heart.
Above my head, Dagan whispers as he stares into our new mate’s eyes. “Thank you both for the risk you took. It makes me ill enough to die all over again imagining what could have happened to you.”
His burly arm drapes over Warren’s waist, skimming my hip.
“We were coming for you, Warren. That day. Please believe we wanted you long before this enchantment bound you to us.”
The gentle caress of elegant fingers moves along my ribs then up Dagan’s wrist. I turn until my back is snug against Dagan’s chest so I can glimpse the peace in Warren’s expression. He smiles at me then says, “I know.”
He dips his head, nuzzling his nose against mine before nibbling at my lips. I sigh when he releases me. Then I tilt my face up to watch as he and Dagan exchange a fierce kiss. Dagan’s hand slides up the flexed muscles of Warren’s shoulder to anchor him in place. The corresponding throb of his rejuvenated erection on my stomach has me squirming.
