“That and whenever our health is compromised.”
“Like after battling the tornado?”
“Yes. Do you need the—?”
She shook her head before he finished asking her. “I’ve noticed my body’s needs have changed since...” She paused, a shadow crossing her eyes. “Since my flame began.”
Zotorro nodded. “One of the gradual changes. Using the silver restoration room seems to accelerate the change.”
“Tired.” Her eyelids drifted shut, and she rolled onto her side.
Zotorro whipped upwards, swiftly shedding the body-conforming material of his flight suit and tossing it on the floor. In one way, he was glad his full superpowers hadn’t returned yet. He felt more human, like he lived in his own skin again, as it was before. With her.
Moving onto the bed beside her, he circled her waist with one arm and pulled her close. His whole body hummed with celebration. “Still prefer pillows?”
“Pillows? Yes, lots of pillows,” she drowsily answered, turning to face him.
“A pile of pillows for the princess.”
Maneuvering them backwards over the thick blanket, he rolled her on top of him and kissed the tip of her nose. He flipped onto his side, placing her against the mountain-shaped pile of pillows, and then spooned his body around hers. Yawning, she snuggled into his embrace naturally, his dream-living princess.
“Oh, lord, real pillows. I won’t even ask where you found them all. Too tired.”
Zotorro pressed a tender kiss on her shoulder, figuring it would be wiser to let her keep Zion’s shirt on for now. “Cover?” he asked.
“Please.”
Reaching back, he gripped the top blanket, flipping it over them like a cocoon.
“Cozy,” she dreamily murmured, snuggling even closer.
“Sleep right, don’t let the bad critters bite,” he crooned the children’s rhyme. “Except me, later.”
“Let me sleep, you super stud, and I might want to get bitten in the right places.”
Zotorro nipped her earlobe with his lips, and then settled his head on the layered pillows. Smiling to himself, he recalled the places he knew she liked his bites. Once he’d driven her erotically insane by grazing his teeth on her inner thighs, before the time they’d made love.
He held the curvy softness of his Wendy, listening to her breaths deepen into slumber. Gratitude seized every particle of his being, and he felt the subtle sizzle of their life forces blend together in a larger healing. Finally surrendering to his own terrible exhaustion, Zotorro slept.
He awoke with a start, his eyes snapping open. His gaze seared through the room’s dimness and he saw what he already knew. Zavier leaned on the entrance frame, his arms crossed, observing them with his eagle’s vision. He sent a mental message of, “Okay,” that he and Wendy were rejuvenating, then let his head fall back into the comfort of the pillow tower.
Feeling his brother walk into the room, he hoped Wendy wouldn’t wake when Zavier joined them on the bed. He also prayed he could calm her swiftly if she did awaken. He and Wendy had rarely shared a bed, as in actually sleeping together. And he knew she’d experienced few men slumbering with her, if any.
Zavier disrobed, twirling out of his flight suit, and Zotorro sensed his brother’s desperation to mount her, once Wendy was rested. His brother’s need for total healing ignited him while his man’s desire for her raged.
Crawling toward them with the stealth of a wolf, Zavier carefully arranged himself on the other side of their woman. Drawing the blanket over himself, he met Zotorro’s gaze, both of them knowing how much the other heathen-lusted for her. They held their tongues, and Zavier didn’t touch her. His eyes, though, glittered with the savage sparks of his power as he stared at her luminous face, beautifully innocent in repose.
Moments later, Zavier reverently swirled a strand of her hair around his forefinger, then gently wrapped the ribbon-like length around his fist. Resting his head on a pillow, he continued watching her sleep, an emerald glow smoldering deep in his eyes and making the room luminous.
Zotorro yielded to the heaviness of his eyelids, knowing they both required the rebuilding benefits of rest. He flowed a calming frequency over his brother before his own fatigue claimed him again.
The instant Wendy moaned in her sleep and twisted to face him, he emerged from the jet-black abyss of his own rest. Cuddling her close, he listened to her breathing. She still slept soundly, yet moved toward waking up. Holy of holies, his caring for her wanted to blast out of his skin, it was so fierce.
He touched his lips to the top of her forehead, her silken skin warm and her luxuriant hair cool. She’d always brought out his gentlest nature and, in contrast, his primitive need to protect and possess her. Now his need to take her had become ruthlessly primal.
“Still sleeping,” he whispered. Zavier had awakened and groaned from his large erection.
“If I could fly straight, I’d patrol the mean Corrupt streets.” His growl barely qualified as a whisper.
“We came close to never flying again,” Zotorro reminded him, then smoothed his palm over Wendy’s tumbled hair.
Zavier rolled onto his back, hands behind his head. “I thought of Wendy.”
“Me too.”
“We probably all did.” Zavier loosed a loud sigh. “Chrontropolis spared devastation because of Wendy.”
Zotorro waited a moment before he asked, “How long?” How long had Zavier wanted her?
Zavier paused, restlessly moving his head. “You don’t want to know how long.”
Pangs struck Zotorro’s middle; making him glad he knew now, instead of then, before they’d all become supermen. “All of us?”
Zavier released a fierce breath. “All of us,” he confirmed. “In one way or another.”
Zotorro drifted his fingers through her slumber-flung waves of hair. “Can she really be with all of us?”
“Whether she’ll admit it or not, she needs us as much as we need her.” Zavier rolled on his side, his back to Zotorro. “Need, hell.” He groaned, shifting his weight.
Zotorro would have suggested his brother rub his rod to orgasm, but knew his relief would be minimal and not last long. Before speaking again, he listened to her breathing. From her warmth and her rhythmic breaths, she slept deeply.
“She does need us. I won’t let her out there again. Not in that unholy horror show.”
“Yeah, we should have acted sooner. My guilt is playing a constant tune.” Zavier rolled onto his back again. He piled the blanket on top of his saluting cock.
“She would have been too stubborn. You know she would have despised us even more if we’d simply gone and grabbed her and brought her here.”
Zavier blew out a breath sharply. He shoved his hands under his head again. “I know. I should have thought of a way, though.”
Zotorro snorted softly. “When? We’ve been busier than harnessed donkeys at harvest. Saving Chrontropolis and saving ourselves. Saving the citizens. Other Super Brethren. Fighting off the Corrupt and the World Force, spying on the Black Force. Oh, yeah, there was also just this colossal twister we helped stop.”
“She’s here now.” Zavier glanced at the side of her face, his gaze more ravenous than a slavering wolf’s.
“Where she belongs. We’ll convince her in time.” Zotorro brushed his lips over her brow.
“I think Wendy will figure out how to wrap each one of us around her little finger. In time.”
Zotorro grinned. “She didn’t do it often, but she could crook her little finger, smile, and we’d all be like pet dogs ready to please her. Remember?”
Zavier grunted. “I was late for a date with Darra Long-limbs because I climbed Mother’s favorite pear tree for her. She was already half-way up and wanted a ripe pear still hanging at the top.”
“I want to spoil her.” Zotorro rested his chin on the top of his Wendy’s head, careful to keep the pressure light.
“Yeah, I know. I want to spoil her. Holy-fe
rocious crazy, I want to.” Zavier settled his head more firmly on his palms. “We have to be damn careful, though. Her protection always comes first.”
“Once she begins feeling confident, she’ll use her smarts to get her own way.”
“Probably play us against each other.” Zavier rumbled a small growl. “She’ll want to dance no matter the danger.”
“And use her flame. She’ll also want to fly with us.”
“One day at a time. Or one crisis at a time, little brother.”
Zavier’s serious gravelly voice rubbed Zotorro like the feel of his own stubble. He frowned. “Yep, every day is as intense as the Summer sun at noon in the desert, the way it used to be.”
“Yeah, the desert, like when we rode in the dragonhorse endurance competitions and not nearly as much fun.” Zavier grunted his anger and sadness.
“I checked on the wild herd three days ago. After chasing down one of the BullNose Twins.”
“How are they?”
Zotorro heard his brother’s anguish and concern, a match to his own. They’d managed to free much of their dragonhorse herd once the weather wars escalated.
“Ten,” he uttered, telling Zavier how many of their twenty-two still survived with the wild herd. “I drilled another well for them. The water is fresh.”
“The whole herd?”
“Still thin, but stable, and finding food.”
Zavier nodded. “Someday.”
“We’ll keep them alive. So far, their canyon ranges haven’t been impacted with severe drought or floods.”
“The lack of sunlight is the largest problem.” Zavier restlessly repositioned himself. After tensing his muscles then releasing them, he leaned back again. “Damn hell, if I look at her, I’ll grab her. And I won’t let go.” Again he bunched the blanket on top of his manhood, as if that would take care of his need.
His own rod threatening to become rigid with desire, Zotorro focused on the slumbering sweetness of Wendy’s face. “God help us, she’s irresistible. How soon do you think—?”
“She’s already sexually shifted.”
“I should have known when...by the way—” Zotorro buried his nose in her hair, inhaling the fragrance of the shampoo Zavier had used earlier, blended with her unique rosefire scent.
“By the way you lanced into her. By the way she gave you her sweet hole.” Zavier clamped his hand on top of his covered rod, forcing it down.
“Until we altered,” Zotorro pressed his cheek gently against her head, “I never believed any of us could be this fucking barbaric with a woman. You?”
“No.” Zavier’s voice was tight, strained. “Not this hell unholy barbaric.”
Their silence hung heavy as the ash-bloated clouds for moments. Zotorro considered tenderly encouraging Wendy to wake up. The rate of her soft little breaths against his chest indicated she would awaken soon. “I could ease her out of sleep.”
“No, don’t.” His brother’s guttural response reflected the severe depth of his lusting ache. “I won’t sacrifice her health,” he spoke through gritted teeth.
“No use figuring out a way to lessen our libidos, since it would lessen the level of our superpowers.” Zotorro kissed her forehead, his lips craving the feel of her once again.
“Agreed. Too dangerous.”
“Had an ale chat with the Stag Brothers. They lost ten days of their super abilities after using frequency waves to inhibit their libidos.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard similar stories. Can’t lock ourselves up. Too long to get out if there’s an immediate crisis.” Zavier lifted his head, and then smacked it back down on his palm.
“The room would have to be fortified beyond our powers. Dangerous, anyway, since it could be used against us.”
“Hell shot to the twin moons, I want her,” Zavier grunted each word from the depth of his suffering loins. “Distract me with something. Anything.”
Zotorro watched his brother suppress a groan, his lips locked like a vise.
“Recall when you tried to pull me out of the iced over pond? But fell in. We both managed to crash through the layer of ice and make it to the bank.”
“Yeah, we kept tugging each other forward and hanging onto each other. Both at the same time. When we walked in the door, Mother threatened to warm us up by tanning our hides.”
“All while she undressed us, dried us off, and then warmed us up with the heater fan. She made hot cider.”
“She kept inspecting our fingers and toes after we swallowed down all those capsules of cayenne. I couldn’t eat anything spicy for a year.”
Zotorro tenderly rubbed his chin over the silkiness of Wendy’s hair. “I had the idea if I pretended to skate over the pond, then that was the trick to not falling through.”
“Cartoons, right?”
Zotorro snorted quietly. “I did learn my lesson. I was planning to use sheets for a parachute, and jump into one of the canyons. You know, sail down on the currents like in the cartoons.”
“You never told me that did you?”
“Nope. Too embarrassed, once I learned after our ice experience that it wouldn’t work. And it was only a bonehead move that would break my skull. Then.”
“You were just practicing for your future superpowers,” Zavier ribbed, yet his tone held a serious note.
“I wonder if we knew back then, at a psychic level.”
“If time occurs all at once, then we did know, at a level of our being we didn’t have access to then.”
Hearing Wendy’s breathing alter, Zotorro tightened his embrace. Her body’s soft lush shape seared his loins to an instant wild ache. Before she’d fully awakened, her palm caressed his chest. Covering her hand with his, he nuzzled her cheek, and whispered, “Wendy.”
Chapter Ten
Zotorro and Wendy
Her body jerked, her eyes blinked open, and her palm heated. Her flame harmlessly sizzled the center of his chest.
“Oh no!” She snatched her hand from beneath his. “Sorry.”
“I’m not harmed, fire princess. Everything is okay.”
“Maybe, but I wish all of you would quit saying it. Even if it is, it doesn’t feel okay.”
She stressed okay, then sighed poignantly, tripping his heart for her. Besides, the expression on her face was utterly adorable, if also sad.
“Wendy.” Zavier’s rasp knifed through the air.
She stilled, paralyzed. The next instant she whipped around, her butt shoving against Zotorro’s lengthening cock, her shirt only a thin barrier. Zotorro felt the shock waves ripple through her body as he gripped the extreme hourglass curve of her waist. “He needs you to help him heal,” he explained.
“Needs?”
Zavier tossed off the blanket.
“Omygawd. Holy tower of need.”
“I do need you,” Zavier forced out slowly.
“Evidently,” she dryly replied.
“Another change,” Zavier attempted to explain, his features contorted with the strain of not launching his rod inside her.
“We, he’s bonded to you, his body chemistry. Now.” Zotorro stroked his hand up and down her side.
“Sexually bonded,” Zavier growled. “I’m starved for you—”
“I get it. I think.” She squirmed with discomfort. “I can’t just, you know, get up and mount.... I mean...” She shook her hair like Zotorro’s idea of a fairy princess, “I may be a super slut now. Still,” she paused, “it’s not in me just to—”
“Shut up, Wendy.” His brother hadn’t spoken with any manner of anger, or condemnation. He flung his arm over his brow, and then pressed his forearm down hard.
“I’ll be too rough with her.” Zavier peeked for a moment at Zotorro.
“Too rough. Oh, that’s beyond rich.” She pitched forward, landing on her elbow, her hair spreading like licks of flame down her back. “After what all of you have done to me.” Tentatively, her palm caressed Zavier’s shoulder with caring, not with desire.
He didn’t f
linch, but his muscles bunched, looking like boulders covered in flesh.
“Take the shirt off.” Wendy rolled toward him, her softly spoken instructions meant for Zotorro.
Unbuttoning, Zotorro slid Zion’s shirt from her arms. As she raised herself up, shrugging out of it, her breasts were pale in the dimness and a complete seduction by themselves.
“Make me,” she softly taunted. She lowered her eyelids to half-mast and her lips became inviting. “You remember, Zavier. We played that once. After the Tackle Ballgame.”
“Damn, Wendy.”
Zavier’s guttural voice sounded like it was ripped from his guts.
“You remember,” she tantalized. “You said you wanted to kiss me. And I said, make me. You did, remember?” With a lazy sinuous movement of her body, she lay down on her side, facing Zavier. “I ran. You chased me, tackled me. I fought you.”
Her voice could have been warm honey pouring over his skin, making Zotorro’s cock spike painfully towards the gorgeous round gleam of her ass.
Leisurely, she stretched, undulating her temptress curves. “You made me kiss you. I’ve never forgotten, never forgotten the way your mouth took mine and branded my lips.”
Zavier arched his back, yelled a groan and grabbed the base of his veined rod.
“That’s what I want,” she throatily purred. “I want you both to make me.” She stretched her arms upwards, rolling onto her back as if in surrender, yet tensing her body to fight. “Make me do it.”
With a primitive grunt, Zavier whipped towards her and Zotorro seized her hips. Wendy twisted to escape, her fists pounding on Zavier’s chest. They trapped her between their bodies in a bid to subdue her, their hands and legs seeking any hold at all on her. Writhing like an enraged wildcat, she battled them, her voluptuous flesh brushing or thrusting against their bodies in a raw savagery of pleasure Zotorro had never experienced.
The mad flinging of her hair, her tiny squeals as she whirled and slipped like a little Fury out of their capturing grips, scalded him to a new level of lust. Primal with need, Zavier grunted, grabbing for her. His hands slid over her breasts like a heathen as he tried to imprison her waist or her hips.
Her Insatiable Dark Heroes Page 15