“Ease her open. I’ll say when.” Mesmerized, Zent focused on her kwim, his eyes flashing such a neon brilliant green, Zavier was impressed. “My SlashFlame Kitten,” he softly praised, sounding like a man suddenly in love. In carnal love, that is.
Zavier knew his brother had watched her dance with the same lusting zeal he did. Over shots of their favorite expensive whiskey, a couple of times they’d traded thoughts on just how much they appreciated her dancing-seductive talent.
“God, I’d slide my cock all over her ripe pussy if I didn’t ache like fucking hell itself.” Zent bucked his hips, pressing his cock’s head against her exposed clit.
“Wide enough?” Zotorro asked, concern edging his voice. “We don’t want to hurt her.”
“Wide enough,” Zent rasped in the most primitive voice Zavier had ever heard him use. He launched his cock forward again, striking against her kwim’s sweet hole. “Can’t stop,” he hoarsely grunted.
His cock plunged inside her, his whole body arched as tightly as a strung bow. Seizing her full round hips, he pounded in and out of her at first, then rutted inside her sheath without an ounce of control. He was man and beast, and utterly ravenous for her.
Zavier kept one eye on her face, monitoring her pleasure. He wanted to make certain their claiming of her didn’t go over the edge and harm her, and that she still was aroused by their restraint of her.
“Look at her breasts,” Zotorro growled
, holding her thigh tightly as she tried to writhe wildly.
With each thrust of Zent’s cock, her breasts jiggled enticingly.
“I could nurse on her teats till kingdom come,” Zion hoarsely uttered, dragging his gaze back and forth, from watching Zent’s cock lunge in and out, to hungrily eyeing her bouncing nipples.
Zavier feasted on her, on what Zent was doing to her. Most of all, he savored the look of extreme hedonistic bliss that had captured her features. The way her eyelids appeared like translucent porcelain had him wishing he was an artist.
“Hell. I’m erupting.” Zent harshly ground out his words, his cock plundering her like a brute demanding every pleasure from her. “There it goes. There it goes,” he chanted.
Zavier watched him strain, every cord of his muscled physique working to slow himself down. In the end, he roared a grunt, shoved his cock in deep and surrendered to his climax. His entire body seized, as if blades of pure ecstasy had carved his flesh, inside and out. Moments later, his eyelids shot open, and pleasure glazed his eyes with utter radiance.
Glancing down at her face, Zavier drank in her surrender to bliss—the soft gleam of pink staining her cheeks and the satiated softness of her body. When he looked back up, Zent vigorously stroked over her thighs, still in the thrall of his orgasm.
“Wendra. My Wendy
,” Zent sang a growl of utter gratitude.
Eventually his palm glided up to her mound. Very gently he thumbed over her clit, causing her to squirm while her hips thrust up to him. “Still blazing with need, wet with her cream and huge.” He roughly crooned his awe. “You’re up, Zion. Just give me a few...” With a gentleman’s finesse he slid his cock from her, still hard as a fireplace poker.
“Up is right,” Zion rasped, then handled his own cock, swirling his fingers over the ruddy veined flesh to ease himself.
“You grew another inch,” Zent ribbed, pointedly training his gaze on Zion’s shaft, “since that last time we—”
“Shut up.” Zion glared a fierce warning.
Zent clamped his lips as Zion nodded toward Wendra, his meaning obvious that he didn’t want whatever they’d done together heard by her.
“You still want us sucking her teats?” Zotorro had already knelt down, his hand lightly stroking the fullness of her breast.
“God, yes.” Zion moved between her thighs, still clutching his cruelly engorged rod.
When Zent glanced at him, the question in his gaze, Zavier nodded. “Go ahead, suck her. I’ll keep hold of her wrists.”
Zent was on his knees, gently grasping her breast. She moaned like a little wildcat as their mouths latched onto her nipples. The moment Zion widened her thighs and pressed downward, trapping her against the surface, she flung her head back and forth, her red flaming hair flying in glorious waves. “Yes,” escaped her lips as she tried and failed to stop it.
Zion grunted with the gratitude of a starved man. Aiming his cock, he launched his hips back, and then lunged forcefully inside her sweet hole. His rod half-way inside her sheath, he halted. “Heaven doesn’t describe this.” The guttural sound of his words pushed past his lips. With his eyelids closed and his features sculpted by excruciating pleasure, he keened a long groan. Pumping his cock along the top of her sheath, he drove inside her with a deliberate and powerful rhythm.
Tiny ecstatic squeals burst from between her lips. Her head whipped to and fro in a wild chaos of movement, her fiery hair like constant flares from the sun. Their sun, as it once was. With a fierce eagerness Zavier hadn’t witnessed in his brothers since their youth together, Zotorro and Zent suckled her ripe huge nipples.
Hell to the twin moons. No, hell to the Harbinger, since the moons were no longer visible in the night sky. Zavier could have vigorously lanced himself inside her again. Truthfully, he was already concerned about how hard his brothers were taking her on their savage cocks, even though no pain registered on her features, nor did he sense any pain in her energy body.
Her continued mewing squeals and the raw passion gleaming on her face reassured him more. Still, they would have to be careful with her. Zavier wasn’t certain how strong she was physically, even given her transformation to a superwoman. He was hell-for-certain, the way Zion mounted her, and the way his brothers enthusiastically suckled her, his cock and balls jerked to a new need beyond what he’d known before.
Zavier realized his insatiable need for her would be a two-edged sword, and as strong as his standing ‘sword.’ The pleasure of her was beyond his dreams and the thought of being without her the stuff of blackest nightmares.
Zion leaned forward, and sharply thrust to her core. He howled his climax. Zavier knew his blood raced through his veins and his whole body seemed to throb with incredible pleasure.
“Wendra
,” he croaked out, and seized her hips.
Zent and Zotorro quit suckling. Tenderly caressing her breasts, they watched Zion with primal enthusiasm. Long moments later his glitter-bright eyes opened and he simply stared straight ahead. “Is she okay? In pleasure?”
For an instant, Zavier reluctantly raised his gaze from her flushed face, beautiful with what appeared to be the constant ebbing of an orgasm. “In pleasure, yes.”
“God, I don’t want to let go of her.” Zion abruptly groaned a complaint, yet eased himself from between her thighs. He brushed several strokes over her hips, and then stepped back.
Zotorro leapt to his feet as if he’d been bitten in the ass, his cock’s head glistening with his readied seed.
“Don’t spill it, little brother, before you can fill her with it,” Zent ribbed him, his tone cocky.
“Exactly like your control,” Zotorro taunted, and then gripped the base of his cock.
“Your preference?” Zion asked. He pushed his fingers through her hair, lifting slowly, watching the flaming strands slide through his fingers as if he were spellbound.
“Do what you want.” Zotorro slid his hands beneath her, seizing the globes of her creamy voluptuous ass like a primitive. “I know what I want. Her butt filling my hands while I stroke inside her tight little hole.”
Zavier trained his gaze on Zotorro, as did Zent and Zion. A split second later, he asked what the three of them wanted to know. “You were with her?”
“You f—” Zion compressed his lips, looked down at her, then spoke. “All the way?”
Zotorro regarded them for the barest instant. “Once.” Blinking, he stared down at her kwim, his whole body tightening as hard as his cock. “Not like this.” He
struck inside her swiftly, then paused, seemingly savoring the moment as if bliss itself wrapped around his rod. His entire face was a picture of rapture. “God, I want her. I’ve always wanted her. Wendra, I want you.”
He plunged again, deep, and then halted. His hands worked the beautiful flesh of her ass, molding and squeezing possessively. “Next time I’m tonguing your clit, baby.”
Deliberate and with no compromise, he speared his cock in and out of her, his rhythm fast. His jade eyes burned like live coals and remained on her face. She had thrown her head back as far as she could, her expression one of abandoned pleasure. Zent and Zion fondled the swells of her breasts, idly pinching her nipples. They roved caresses along her sides, reveling in her shape.
Manacling her wrists in one hand, Zavier captured her hair, twisting the heavy silkiness around his fist. Kneeling, he pulled downward just enough to keep her trapped the way that would give her more pleasure and make her utterly theirs at the same time. She moaned a fragile sound of feminine helplessness, a surrender to her need for them, for what they could do to her and make her feel. At her core that’s what she wanted. Though, he knew there was still a part of her that wanted to fight for her independence. Her ecstasy kept her a willing hostage.
Zavier devoured her lips with his gaze. They were ripe like juicy strawberries, their shape both sexy and adorable. Her mouth was a luxury he wanted use of, often—beneath his lips and on his body.
“That’s it. Do her.” Zent’s growl was crude, carnal. He scraped his nail up her teat.
Zavier merged his awareness with Wendy enough to gauge how she reacted to Zent. Bursts of new arousal coiled through her overriding her shock.
“Give it her.” Zion followed with his own growl, caught up in the heathen rut Zotorro performed, his cock owning her kwim. Bending to her bright red nipple, Zion lightly bit down several times.
She cried out, her eyelids winging open fast. “Yes. Oh God, yes, more.”
“That’s it, Wendra princess,” Zotorro roughly sang to her. “How hard do you want it? Harder?”
“Harder.” She was barely able to speak beyond her raging ecstasy.
“Give it to her harder. Make her tits dance for us.” Zent tweaked her tall rigid nipple, and then sank his nails in. He pulled her teat straight up and tweaked hard, alternating over and over again, as Zotorro increased the pace of his long wicked thrusts.
“Shake her for us,” Zion darkly encouraged. Raising his head up, he clamped her nipple between his fingers and twisted.
“Harder, Wendy
, I’m going to give it to you harder.”
“Please.” She panted.
“Yes, baby.”
She screamed softly and continued with each pounding lunge of Zotorro’s cock. Her gorgeous body jiggled and shook with each thrust, an erotic enticement that had them all groaning low in their throats.
And had them all planning on what they were going to do to her next. Zavier knew, witnessing it on their stone-carved faces, and in the fierce, hot way they handled her body. Hell to the Almighty, he knew what he wanted to do.
And he knew what he wanted to make her do. Once he took care of her and made certain she was okay.
“Just a little harder, Wendy,” Zotorro harshly rasped. “And you’ll be flying in flame around my rod.” His body gleamed with sweat, his muscles defined as splendidly as any ancient god’s in their exertion.
“You never thought you’d want it this hard, did you?”
She gurgled a sound of bliss. The flushing stain of her climax traveled up from her mound.
“Did you?” Zotorro demanded. He sank his cock inside her, a final ruthless thrust. His orgasm glowed over his physique, and glowed his eyes to white fire. He then nearly collapsed—his pleasure so overwhelming he nearly lost consciousness.
Springing up, Zion and Zent grabbed his arms, supporting him.
As she began to shiver, overcome with ecstasy and her natural shock at what had occurred, Zavier cradled his arms beneath her shoulders, tenderly lifting her off his brother’s cock.
“Wendy.” Surprised by the depth of caring in his own voice, Zavier brought her fully into the embrace of his arms. It had been so long ago that he had allowed himself this level of feeling, except for his brothers. Gently, he pressed her against his chest and stood with her, carrying her toward his bath suite.
Entering, he was never so glad for Zion’s inventive genius. The whirl and bubble of water being constantly cleansed in his immense sunken tub greatly relieved him. The water should be warm enough for her and would heat up quickly. By the soft pliant feel of her body, he knew she was still drunk on her orgasms, and also remained in a protective state of shock. His Wendy had never expected her sexual fantasy to ever come true for real.
It had also been his experience with women, that often when they first felt the deep intense levels of sexual pleasure, a mild shock set in. If a man didn’t handle their vulnerability with care, the woman would become less and less responsive to passion.
“Wendy, I’m going to take care of you. Do you understand?”
She didn’t move, not giving him any indication she’d even heard him. Her small little breaths didn’t change as he knelt, lowering her into the clear swirls of delicately bubbling water. Carefully he arranged her so she leaned back into what was called a lounge section of the immense tub. Sitting behind her, he draped his legs on either side of her, the water massaging his feet and calves.
“Water.” Raising her arm very slowly, she dipped her hand in, and then let the water spill from her palm. She repeated the action several times as if she beheld a new wonder. He gathered the long strands of her hair, pulling her beautifully tangled mane to one side. “How do you have clean water? This clean? This much?”
Lightly spreading his fingers on top of her shoulders, he massaged gently. “You remember all of Zion’s tech toys, his souped-up motorcycle and the auto Dad made him take apart again, and return it to its original state. He’d amped up the engine’s power too much.”
“Yes.” She paused, making figure eights in the water with one hand. “He was furious about it, and vowed when he was old enough no one was going to tell him how much he could amp up an engine again.”
“Zion designed a system that keeps the water clean here. And we pump it out to the city as much as possible.”
“Water from the bay?”
“Yes. A group of us secreted in the pipe and parts. Set it up. Zion did the rest.”
“Super-powered handymen.” She collapsed back even more, obviously exhausted.
He continued massaging her shoulders, his touch actually more like caresses on her creamy silky skin. She had him under her spell with just the round sumptuous shape of her shoulders.
“You know if they catch you, the World Force or the Black Force Elite, they’ll come here, rain down Hadres bombs on us. Or maybe it will be a tsunami.” She closed her eyes, allowing herself to luxuriate, probably too worn out to do anything else. “Or the Corrupt will steal Zion’s system; extort everyone they can in the city.”
“The World Force is stretched thin countering several revolutionary armies in other countries. The Black Force Elite can go back to the hell they’re from. And—” He carefully combed his fingers through the end strands of her hair, detangling them.
“What?”
“Some of us have made counter strikes on the closest energy array. We shut it down, Wendy. For now.”
“Dangerous. Maybe now they can’t drown us all with a tsunami. Or use a cyclone to rip apart what’s left of Chrontropolis.”
“Super hearing. Most of us can hear it, once they do repairs on the array.”
She moved her body a bit so her legs floated. “Sorry to be Miss Cynical, but great way to set up a trap. How to bushwhack superheroes in several easy steps.”
Despite himself, Zavier rumbled a short chuckle. “Precautions against being bushwhacked have been taken,” he assured her. “Should I wash your hair?”
<
br /> “You’ve done everything else to me,” she sarcastically answered. “Why not?”
Not even close to everything I’m going to do you, to your exquisite body.
“Sore?” he asked. He shot his eye beams toward a long-pronged comb. It materialized beside him.
“Who can tell? Yet.” She sparked him with her voice, and he wondered how long it would take before she used her flame on all of them. From what he could tell, they were mostly immune. So far.
Lifting her hair, he eased the comb through her tangles, feeling happier than he could remember.
“If I am? Are you going to heal me?” Another slice of her voice edged with curiosity.
“Zotorro has that healing capability now.”
She squeezed her eyelids tightly, making him regret he’d reminded her of how Zotorro had mounted her. Hell, how they’d all fucked her like beasts in rut. Not far from the truth of what they’d become, at times, with the arrival of the blue star. He knew it would be difficult for her to reconcile her own sexual response to them, and her awakened need for primitive couplings. Zavier prayed for guidance. He needed it.
“He made love to me. Once,” she whispered delicately. Her remembrance softly etched her features, and caused him to remember.
Often before he woke up, he’d see her beautiful unique face in his dreams. Always, her expression beckoned him to come and make passionate love to her. Sometimes he’d reach for her, waking with a start, his whole body sweating and his cock enormous, pounding. Aching like a son of a gun for her.
“It doesn’t matter now, does it?” The soft sound and sadness of her voice pricked at him. “Like you said, everything’s changed.” She spoke moments later, filling the void of what he hadn’t said, as he continued working the tangles out of her hair. Between the wind of their flight and their possession of her, her long tresses had become knotted in some places.
“Are you going to share me like that? Every time?”
Damn it to hell, she sounded lost now, as if there was no way to gain her footing again.
“No. Not every time.”
He heard her heaving breaths above the bubbling whirl of the water. “Sometimes, though.”
Her Insatiable Dark Heroes Page 6