Her Insatiable Dark Heroes

by Her Insatiable Dark Heroes (lit)

  “You’re right. I was a conceited idiot. I am a conceited idiot.”

  For an instant he swore was infinity, she didn’t speak. Suddenly her eyes rounded, aqua jewels glistening with blazes inside their facets. “Oh no.” Her voice was more breath than sound.

  “What?”

  “It hurts. It burns.” She squirmed vigorously.

  “Wendy, what is it?” He lightly shook her, scrutinizing her face.

  “It hurts bad,” she moaned. Her eyes shut and her head fell back a bit. “Oh, no!” With desperation she thrust her hips back and forth, trying to ride him. “Omygawd, no. Do something!”

  Zavier ripped the blanket away from her. Her hand dived between her thighs, and shoved inside her kwim.

  “It won’t stop,” she cried, manipulating her clit as if she burned blazes. “I can’t. It’s not working,” she gasped out.

  Plucking her bright red engorged clit, she moaned again, and then writhed wildly, her frustration obvious and terrible.

  Quickly, he positioned her so her back was against him. Her soft full curves pressed against him, her butt cradling his cock. “Let me.” He lifted her hand away.

  She whimpered pitifully, parting her thighs. Smoothing his finger over her slick swollen bud, he rubbed with hard deliberation, yet at a languorous pace. She was so large, so juicy and sultry, he groaned.

  “Oh, yes, that feels good.” She widened her thighs, and then tilted her hips up to him. “Yes, yes, that way.” He watched her body radiate with pleasure.

  She rocked lazily with his stroking finger, but with a fierce passion that drove his lusting need and smoldered his blood. Her hands gripped his forearms as if she’d never let go of him. She flung her head back and forth on his chest, her damp hair tumbling over her breasts beautifully. Zavier’s throat constricted and he groaned silently, hardly believing he finally had her as his. And this way.

  “Please.” She bucked her hips faster, and he could feel the rise of her orgasm. The energy of her entire body sparkled through her veins, feeding his energy with sublime and savage sensations. Damn, he blistered for her.

  “Wendy. God, honey.”

  Her climax juices burst against his fingertip. She moaned like a little wanton, her fingernails digging into his arms. She arched her back, her orgasm appearing to blast over her flesh for long moments. Finally, she collapsed back against him.

  Zavier held her and lightly caressed her mound, enjoying her afterglow more than he would have believed. At first she whimpered the ecstasy of her release, yet soon her tiny keening sounds became anguished.

  “You’ve ruined me.” She turned her face into his chest, curling up against him. “You’ve all ruined me.” Tears leaked from her eyes and her little fist thumped his chest. “Oh, God, I’ve never felt like this. This needy.”

  “Wendy, for heaven’s sake, what is it?” He cupped her head, caressing her hair. Confusion owned his thoughts. She was horribly upset despite her orgasmic pleasure.

  “I’m a slut. You’ve turned me into a slut.” Her tears rained faster and sobs shook her body. “I’ve never felt this sexual before.”

  It hit him then, like a sharp whack to the back of his skull. Her libido had dramatically increased, far beyond what she’d ever felt. Or known. And it probably was due to their taking of her. His and his brothers’ hormones had triggered hers at a super level. He’d heard of it happening, now that he thought back. A few times other supermen had confided the superwoman they’d chosen had become extremely lusty—demanding in ways they were all-too-happy to oblige.

  “Wendy, it’s okay. We’ll take care of your sexual needs. Make certain—”

  “No,” she sobbed pathetically. “I don’t want to be like this.” Weakly, her little fist pounded against his chest, more from her upset than any lack of strength.

  “Wendy.” He could only croon her name, attempt to comfort her. And promise himself he would take care of her enhanced needs. Hell to heaven, he’d gladly take care of her. As he knew his brothers would. And not only with their cocks, he knew, but with their hearts.

  “I don’t want to be,” she sniffled, “to be a super slut.”

  If she hadn’t been in such wicked distress, Zavier would have barked with laughter at her use of the term.

  “What? Is that my new name? Super Slut. SS on my costume. Instead of like the DZV on the side of your boots?”

  Zavier didn’t dare say her call name, SlashFlame Kitten, was already used as his brothers had used it to admire her sexual nature, and her kwim. Even though her name perfectly described her as a dancer and, he realized, an emerging Superheroine.

  “You don’t see this as a problem, do you?” she accused, then sniffled with the insult she already perceived from him.

  “Wendy, if it’s a problem for you, it’s a problem for me.” He cuddled her closer. “To be honest, no, it’s not a problem for me as a man.”

  “I guess not.” Her voice pouted angrily. “Since there are four of you.”

  Again, the impulse to howl with laughter seized him. Instead, he pressed his lips to the top of her head. Her pain was very real, even if he was on the verge of celebrating.

  “I suppose the four of you will be dancing around like heathens, happy as all get out. Or get in. In me.”

  Zavier forced himself to absolute stillness. He didn’t even blink

  “Damn the donkey’s tail. Don’t you dare laugh.”

  “Not laughing.”

  He blinked and tried to think of anything not funny. Like how she would rail at him if he did bust a gut. And Wendy, when her temper was aroused, could rail with the best of them. Plus, her throwing arm was always accurate. When they’d first become neighbors, she’d clocked him a couple of times, once with a rock and once with a hardball. Both times, he’d deserved it. And both times his mother had added to the punishment, with his father’s silent fierce look of approval at his mother’s discipline.

  Of course, now he was immune to whatever she would throw. He wasn’t immune to how he could emotionally hurt her.

  He was never so grateful one of his contact screens buzzed an alarm. She started in his arms at the obnoxious blare of sound. Swooping up the blanket, he draped it around her, and then zoom-swift opened the screen, all the while savoring her seductive dancer’s body.

  “Dark Zavier of the Valorous,” the ultra-low feminine voice spoke from the screen. “I didn’t expect to see you and your brothers’ capture already decorating your lap with such domestic intimacy.”

  “Wendra. My name is Wendra. Not Your Brothers’ Capture.”

  His ‘capture’ straightened, clutching the front of the blanket. He felt her glare at the Deputy Mayor of Chrontropolis, who was a Superwoman in her own right.

  CocoaAngel permitted herself a sharp glance at Wendy before she trained her gleaming chocolate-colored eyes on Zavier. Worry shone from their depths, the kind of worry that made his gut clench.

  “I need a meeting with you pronto, head Dark honcho.” CocoaAngel leveled a hard expectant gaze on him, her expression stern. “How soon will you arrive?”

  Chapter Five

  Dark Zent of the Valorous

  “Just as soon as he can fly the sky so high,” Zent interrupted. “And after he hands over the delectable goods.”

  “Dark Zent, my favorite,” CocoaAngel silkily cooed, her tone a flirtatious invitation. “Just so trembling sad for me you’re not big brother.”

  Zent chuckled smoothly, the charming male with a woman he’d always enjoyed being around in his former life as editor and reporter. “BoldKnight’s fist planted in my jaw is not my idea of a good time. You tell him I was a proper gentleman with you.”

  Her smoky gaze followed him as he sauntered over to claim Wendy. “Right-o, honey legs.” Lazily, she shook her cap of platinum white hair as she returned her gaze to Zavier. “I’m at the Hall. Meet me at the Bridge Lookout.”

  “Like my brother says, fast as I can fly.” Rising, Zavier whispered something in We
ndy’s ear, then handed her into Zent’s waiting embrace. “She needs to be fed. Cook her up one of your gourmet specialties.”

  “Will do, big brother.” Good lord, she felt like sweetest heaven, even if she was craning her neck to glower at him, and her arms were folded tight as a crusher serpent.

  “Zion and Zotorro?” Zavier asked.

  “Patrolling around the building. A few more interlopers.”

  Zavier nodded, and then launched himself into blur speed.

  “He’s on the way, over the bay.” Zent flipped the woman on the screen another boyish grin.

  CocoaAngel presented a stunning smile in response, then blipped off screen.

  “I used to respect her.” Wendy glared at the blank screen. Whipping her face back to Zent, she scowled. “I am not your capture.”

  “Yep, darling Wendy, you most certainly are. And I couldn’t be happier. Or snappier.” She rolled her eyes in a manner that suggested she didn’t believe this was happening to her. Zent realized she probably hadn’t bitten his head off yet because he’d used the same light, flirting tone he always used when he came to see her at the club. The one he reserved only for her.

  “I’m supposed to dance tonight,” she pointedly reminded.

  Entranced, he watched the golden and aqua flickers in her amazing eyes. Before he’d become a superman he would have walked barefoot over broken glass to see her eyes this way, or to watch her dance. His Wendy, always to watch her dance.

  “Bad news, darling, for your devoted fans. You’re not dancing for a while.”

  “Why not?” she snapped angrily, her eyes shooting fire.

  Zent hoisted her effortlessly, closer to his shoulder as he strode for the elevator. “You won’t like the answer.”

  “I’m not in love with this whole situation.”

  Acid definitely coated her words, and he almost said, but we’re in love with you. Still, even if he had spoken it, he knew she’d never believe him. Especially not with how they were going to continue taking her. How they were going to continue mastering her.

  “I’ll just have to convince you.” With an ease he didn’t feel, Zent leaned against the elevator wall, peering down at her face as they whooshed upwards.

  “Between my thighs. Like you did earlier,” she challenged.

  Slowly Zent curved a smile. “I always did like you feisty.”

  “No. As I recall you ‘liked’ Vivian and Hailey feisty.”

  “True. At the time.” Grinning, he shoved forward, carrying her out of the elevator and into the modern elaborate kitchen.

  “What do you want to eat?” Zent sat her on the counter next to his favorite preparation stove. Placing his palms on either side of her, he simply stared at her lovely face. “I should comb your hair first. Then fix us something to eat.”

  “Not hungry anyway.” Shrugging as if she didn’t care, she averted her gaze.

  “When you smell my cooking you will be.” Fingering a long heavy strand of her hair, which was still slightly damp, he let it gradually slide over his hand, then placed it on the exposed swell of her breast. “You’ve never let me tell you how exquisite, how gorgeous you are, Wendy. Why?”

  She flushed a deep red, swiveling her face away even more. Still, she was unable to hide it from him. “Didn’t think it was a good idea.”

  “No. It probably wasn’t. Then.”

  “Besides,” she faced him somewhat, “it’s not like you were lonely.”

  “No,” he agreed, and gave her a grin. “Back in a flash, darling.”

  Using his super speed, Zent changed to casual gear, grabbed up a comb, then returned to her. Her. Their Wendy.

  “Gee.” She quickly looked him up and down, and then raised her brows. “I don’t get to dress for dinner.”

  “I want you naked.”

  “Figures.” She blushed again.

  He arranged the blanket so she was revealed to his gaze. Her ripe round breasts with their rose-pink nipples, still blatant from being suckled and plucked, were only for his eyes now. His blood raced and he felt lighter than air, lighter than when he flew. She owned the most tantalizing body. The sweet, deep indentation of her waist and the bold flare of her hips always teased his cock. He couldn’t count how many times or how many ways he’d fantasized about having her lush long thighs wrapped around him.

  “Seen enough?” Her voice cut at him, yet sounded nervous.

  “Never seen enough, darling.” Zent gently drew the comb through a swathe of her hair. “Tell me if I pull too hard.” She nodded and turned her head, cooperating with him as he worked on her tresses. “You smell so good, Wendy,” he murmured, utterly absorbed with his task. Somehow, she smelled like pure fire, the flickering brightness of a candle’s flame. And she smelled like roses, the deep scarlet roses his mother had grown.

  “You never answered,” she reminded moments later.

  “Never answered?” Her kwim’s heated scent seared him, the sultry musk of her recent arousal reminding him of her fragrance when she danced.

  “Why can’t I dance?”

  “You saw RedMaverick on the screen, didn’t you?”

  “So?” She paused, a tremor shaking her body. “Okay, it was hideous. However, you, Zion and Zotorro took care of that gigantic problem.”

  For his own sensual gratification, Zent combed through her hair gradually. Hair like magical flame, that’s how he always thought of it. He also stalled answering her question.

  “Wendy, only one of us could be there to protect you. Most of the time.”

  “I know when you’re avoiding—”

  “We have to master you first.” He’d interrupted, his voice gruffer and more possessive than he intended.

  “Master.”

  Her voice had remained calm. The edge could have sliced his jugular vein.

  “You don’t dance at a club again until you obey us. It’s the only way to protect you.” Setting the comb down with a clatter, he gripped her chin, forcing her gaze beneath his. “I won’t allow you to be stolen. RedMaverick is just the beginning. Zion and Zotorro are chasing off three others that I know about. Is that what you want, to be mastered by RedMaverick?”

  The lowering of her eyelids answered him, even if she remained stubbornly silent.

  “And don’t believe your flame power will always protect you.”

  “It has in the past,” she defied. Her eyes ferociously glittered, twisting his loins to a savage arousal.

  “We’re not affected. And you don’t have full control over it yet.”

  “Well, Mr. Growly Bear, you may not be affected, but every other superman who’s dared put his big fat paws on me has been.”

  “Growly Bear?” He blinked, despite his resolve to be tough with her whenever necessary.

  “That’s what you remind me of.” She blinked, hesitated, and then spat, “My Growly Bear. My toy bear.”

  Zent took several breaths. “Toy bear.” He desperately wanted to remind her, he hadn’t been any ‘toy bear’ when his cock had been striking into her. Damn! His cock was in striking distance now, and missile-ready. Still, by hell winds, he wasn’t ready to sacrifice her well-being. Zavier was right. She needed care first.

  Then he noticed the tiny tracks under her eyes. “Tears?”

  She blinked rapidly, her eyes filling, glistening with more tears.

  “Wendy.” He released her chin, sliding his thumb up her soft cheek in a caress.

  “I’m a slut.” Her tears splashed quickly. “A super slut.” Her eyes accused him. “And it’s your fault. You and, and all of you.” She thrust out her chin, and tried to stop weeping.

  “Oh.” He furrowed his brow. “Oh.” Understanding dawned on him and his cock rejoiced. “Wendy, it’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not. I don’t care what you say. I don’t care what Zavier said. It’s not okay.”

  Zent picked up a cloth, dabbing at her wet face while he wracked his brain for any memory of how to handle her—what had worked with women in h
is past. Then he remembered, and nearly fell to his knees in gratitude.

  “Wendy, do you recall the conversation we overheard between your parents? We were inside my tree house. You were supposed to be in your room. It was late summer and your parents came outside. And you couldn’t leave without being found out?”

  He watched the memory surface, and glow in her eyes. “That’s different.” Her low tone revealed her vulnerability.

  “Is it? Really?” He touched the cloth underneath her eyes, soaking away the remnants of her tears. “They were talking about how their desire for each other had only increased—”

  “I remember,” she interrupted, and gave him a sharp stare. “Only it was more like how much my mother enjoyed how my father used his...” She glanced downward. “Omygawd, it’s enormous.”

  Zent followed her gaze. He had to agree. He was enormous. Thank the benevolent heavens that he wasn’t throbbing like a stud dragonhorse in rut. Yet. Her tears had definitely dampened his rutting juices down to manageable.

  “Used his cock.” Her tone dared him to take advantage. Then her gaze sparked defiantly as she faced him down. “And the variety of ways he used it,” she finished, her jaw set.

  Zent smiled in the face of feminine danger. Widely and with all the charm he could muster. “The point is,” he stressed ‘point’ on purpose, and let the tip of his cock stab against her inner thigh through his pants, “your parents’ sex drive increased dramatically. It happens with couples sometimes. Instead of desire being lessened, it—”

  “Never mind. I get the damn sex picture. Spare me the lecture, Mr. Know-It-All-Between a Woman’s Thighs.”

  “Wendy.” He slipped his hand down her hair and took a step back. “A part of me has always loved you. And for certain I’ve lusted like a stag locked away during mating season for you.”