“Let’s go float for awhile, honey.”
Gripping her waist, Zavier plucked her from Zion as if she were a piece of pretty fluff he’d decided to play with.
Cradling her against his chest, he levitated them upwards, and then floated until he could land on the floor with ease. Embracing her tightly, he super-zipped them inside his domain. His scent lingered strongly, fizzing in her belly and awakening her passion in a manner that felt effervescent and lovely, instead of like the last earthquake.
Wendy looked up at him, her muzzy head clearing from their rapid transit. Their gazes fused, the dark green-gold glitter of his eyes warming her and filling her with dreamy sensations. She allowed her arms to float up and flow around the strong, strong column of his neck. Her gaze wandered over the chiseled power of his features, over the handsome square cut of his jaw line.
“Did you shave? Or...”“Comes with the superhero territory. No growth of beard if I will it.” His hands spanned her back, languidly sweeping strokes that drove her crazy with honeyed desire.
“Then you’ll give me stubble if I want it.” Wendy could hardly believe the breathless sound of her own voice. She rocked seductively in his arms, feeling as sinuous as a lioness.
“I’ll give you anything you want.” He paused, the jade-golden blaze of his eyes ravishing her face. “Anything that won’t harm you. Once you’re mastered, my Wendy.”
“I despise that word. Mastered. It’s merely another way of saying you won’t let me dance.”
“I won’t. Not right now. God, Wendy, don’t make me deny you.” His hands cupped her head, framing her face. “I want to give you everything. Anything you want. I always have.”
Drowning in his ferocious need for her, she let her body become still as a sail without a trace of wind. Now was her moment to help him. “What’s wrong?”
His gaze flickered, shadows interspersed with the stunning facets of his eyes. Yet, he remained silent.
“What is it?” Softly, she caressed over his wrist with her fingers and her palm. She wished she could simply enjoy how it felt to have her face held this way, by him. However, something ate at him as viciously as the starving wolf he sometimes resembled. He assessed her, piercing the depth of her eyes with his unrelenting gaze. “Zotorro’s vision. The enemy we face is formidable, and one I believed had no reason to focus on us right now.” Tenderly, his thumb stroked her jaw beneath her ear, the intimate seduction she’d always wanted from him. “Wendy, I don’t have a viable plan for our defense, let alone a successful defense for Chrontropolis. This current flood of rain will stretch our resources to the maximum.”
“No wonder.” Caring for him with every ounce of her heart, she slipped her palm up his forearm, over the slick fabric of his flight suit.
“Wendy, I shouldn’t have told you so soon. You’ve been through enough. Too much. By Hadres’ rules, there’s only so much I can deny you.” Lowering his head swiftly, he brushed small kisses on top of her fingers.
“You should have told me. I asked.” Wendy allowed her other hand to dive into his hair, sensual and thick, dark as midnight, except for the glints of deep gold. “Black sunshine,” she whispered.
His lips lifted away from her fingers. “Black sunshine?”
“How I’ve described your hair. To myself. Black, yet drenched by sunshine. When we still had the sun.” She sifted through the layers of his short mane, the feeling exquisite.
“Wendy.” His palms embraced either side of her head, stroking her and devastating her with a feeling of dreamy elation. “You’re strong. You’ve always been strong. Still, I shouldn’t have burdened you. Not now.”
“Because of the horror I’ve lived through, trying to survive? Or because of what you and—”
“Both,” he interrupted. “Because of how we’ve taken you. Desperate barbarians at the gates of your paradise.”
“When you treat me like this, I feel like paradise still exists.” Their gazes caressed each other.
“Wendy, I can’t promise I won’t ravage you like a brute. I’m insane with what I want to do to you. And keep doing.” The growl of his voice penetrated her entire being.
“Hormones,” she uttered past the raw constriction of her throat. “Just turn me into your super slut.” Her eyelids slid shut and refused to open.
“Wendy,” he warned. “No more of that.” His palms sensually slid downward, claiming her shoulders. “I’ll turn you into my captive goddess, make you dance with desire for me.” His teeth lightly raked down the side of her neck, sending torrents of passion through her.
From somewhere, most likely the pleading depths of her heart, she suddenly knew what to tell him.
“You need to discover his weakness, the enemy from Zotorro’s vision.” He straightened and their gazes locked.
“What are you saying?” His eyes stormed with golden sparks.
“Discover his weakness, his dirty big secrets, like you always do, Mr. Dark Terror of Justice Hall. Think of Chrontropolis as an innocent you’re bound and determined to save. Eventually, you’ll make his eye twitch like...”
His mouth slammed down on hers with a passion so savage and so undeniably perfect, she returned the force of his kiss as fiercely as she could manage. Transformed into wanton flame, Wendy melded her body with his and soared higher than the sky.
Chapter Thirteen
Dark Terror of Justice Hall
She tasted like every dream he’d ever had about a woman, his every woman being her. His Wendy. Once their ferocious kiss slowly changed to deep smoldering pleasure, Zavier savored their locked mouths and reveled in their impassioned love for each other.
She loved him, whether she knew it or not. He felt her heart pound for him and wing toward him, into his heart.
Easing them both away from the consummation of their savage passion for one another, he nibbled her lips. They’d all taken her gorgeous body enough for now. She needed his care more than his cock striking into her. Deliberately, he played with her strawberry-plump mouth, tenderly bringing their boiling heat down to a simmer.
He feather-brushed her lips with his several times, then lifted his head. She blinked, owl-like, her gaze bewildered. The depths of her eyes blazed, still dream-wild with their passion. Using a light touch, he swept his hand down the tangled length of her hair, and wondered that his palm didn’t come away singed from the red brilliance.
“Like Judge Hauritus.” He finished what she would have said, gently gripping her shoulders.
Biting one side of her lip adorably, she focused on his words. Seconds later, she smiled. “I remember seeing the judge ‘twitch’ a few times.”
“The events Zotorro brought you to?”
She nodded. “Some elaborate upper crust wingding. He wanted to see his big brother honored as a man of the people.” Her expression sassed him sweetly.
“You were wearing white. The gleaming fabric draped over your breasts and over your thighs. The gown flowed behind you with a sultry elegance that did my manhood proud, and way too hard.”
“And I’ll bet you put that ‘proud and hard’ to good use. Or wickedly good use.”
“I would have,” he admitted. His grin gradually curved his mouth. “Except I indulged in too much of the Rieljer wine. I was trying to forget you, and the taste was extraordinary.”
“You were so bad in some ways.” Her tone reprimanded him and forgave him, both at once.
“I was.” He caressed her upper arms, relishing her woman’s softness and her dancer’s athletic strength. “Wendy, what did you feel when we were kissing?”
“It felt like,” she hesitated, color staining her cheeks, “what I’ve felt for you, for a long time now. Only...”
“Only?”
“Only heightened, as if I’m standing atop a mountain now. Instead of admiring from down below.” Her wide smile did things to his heart only an acrobat could perform.
“I’m a mountain you can climb anytime.” Zavier felt his own smile arrive f
rom the core of his being.
“Not true.” Her jewel-sparkling eyes glinted with challenge. “I belong to all of you. Remember?”
“Yes,” he agreed. “Wendy, I still feel like you belong only to me. I know that’s not the way of things now, but it’s there. A part of me will always feel that way.” Stroking her upper arms more rapidly, he devoured the beautiful sculpture that was her face.
“Why did you stop kissing me?”
“Not for lack of desire,” he teased. Zavier rubbed the outline of his greedy rod against the voluptuous curve of her hip. “It’s more important that I take care of you.”
“Can’t argue.” She tilted her chin defiantly, aiming a fierce eye at him. “Given the way all of you mount me. Repeatedly.”
“Let’s go test the water’s temperature.”
“What? Are you now my Official Bather?” Her tone slashed like a broadsword.
Stepping back, he let go of her. “Back in a flash, honey.”
Once he stopped spinning out of his flight suit, he shouted back, “The Dark Terror of Justice Hall and SlashFlame Kitten’s Official Bather. I’ll take both titles.”
Striding quickly back to her naked, he wasn’t surprised to see her arms crossed and her hip slanted in a make-me attitude. Not the make-me eroticism of earlier, either. No, her gaze was ignited by sheer impertinence. Zavier definitely liked it. He grinned to himself, glad her spirit hadn’t been totally crushed by the catastrophic state of their world, and of Chrontropolis.
Hell to the Almighty, he was grateful. He figured his gratitude leapt up in a single enormous bound, because she raked her gaze over his body.
“Like what you see, honey?”
She flipped her half-lidded gaze up to his eyes. “You know I do. But that doesn’t give you license—”
He halted her words by encircling her waist with one arm, and forcing her against his side. “I don’t need a license to take you.” Lifting her higher so she fit perfectly against him, he carried her toward his luxurious sunken bath.
“No, just your superpowers,” she mocked. Yet she trained her gaze on the swirling water.
“And I plan to use them all on you.”
“Unholy donkey’s ass,” she cursed. “I’ve already been used beyond belief. And beyond relief.”
“Relief coming up, honey.”
Steamy mist hovered above the water, indicating it was probably hot enough. Still, balancing on one leg, Zavier dipped his toe in. Satisfied, he lowered her into the whirling comfort. She slipped beneath the bubbles and stretched, her hair streaming out behind her, dark blazes of color.
Zavier jerked in a breath at her amazing beauty while his rod jerked a bold response that caused him to grunt. Sliding in beside her, he grabbed up a hair tool and asked, “Do I un-tangle now, or later?”
“Gosh by darn, a choice,” she tongue-in-cheek sassed. Moving away from him, she rolled sleekly, a complete rotation of her body that had him envisioning her costumed like an enticing sea witch. Once her body floated effortlessly, she gazed at him. “It might as well be now as later, SlashFlame Kitten’s Official Bather.”
Her dry swipe at him couldn’t completely hide the resignation in her tone. In that moment his determination to make her happy with them deepened.
“Best title I’ve ever had.”
Slipping closer and stabilizing himself against the side of his immense bath, he captured a length of her hair. Gently he began working at his task, a good distraction from plunging his cock into her. She undulated naturally, keeping herself afloat. Soon her compliant silence concerned him.
How he treasured just being with her, though. On rare occasions he’d wondered what it would be like if they had been lovers spending time together. Nearly finished with working out all her tangles, her next words surprised him.
“I’m frightened.”
He drew in a breath, and waited for his heart to settle. Her vulnerability, her delicate voice cut into him the most. He knew it wasn’t a statement about the terrible perils of the world they now lived in. It was about her being with them, him and his brothers. “Frightened? Of what?”
She released a despairing sigh and thought for moments before answering. “Your power, all of you, the Dark Brothers. You’re incredibly strong now. Not just physically. You’re mentally stronger. Yet—”
“Yet?” Zavier languidly combed his fingers through the splendid length of her hair, enjoying the silky wetness.
She loosed a long breath, reluctant to finish. After inhaling softly, she placed her hand on her belly, continuing, “As you said, you’re all primitive now. It scares me.”
“Of course it does, honey.” Letting his hands ride the buoyancy of the water, he touched her shoulders with his fingers, and then began massaging lightly. “Remember, Wendy, you learned how to handle us rowdy Dark brothers before.” Zavier paused, and then warned, “This will have to wait. We’ve got company coming.”
“Who?”
“Zotorro. He sent his tone signal to my ear.”
“I have to hand it to you Dark Brothers. You seem to have everything well organized and in grand order.”
“Survival by efficiency, honey. That’s our motto.”
Fisting her hair close to her head, Zavier swooped down and seized her lips in a short burning kiss. Releasing her, he twist-spun upwards, his feet landing well away from the edge of the tub.
“Hey!” she yelled after him. “Talk about a deluge here!”
“Yeah, honey,” he tossed back, “I’ll deluge you later.”
An instant later, she shouted, “You boys going to talk behind my back?”
“Only to protect the innocent,” Zavier returned, and smiled to himself. Feeling better than he had for an age or two, he met Zotorro as he entered. “What’s wrong?” he mouthed.
“Thanks to you, my innocence is a vanishing breed,” Wendy yelled. He heard the musical splash of the water as she changed position and planted her elbows on the edge of the tub. “If you two don’t tell me what’s happening, I’m going to flame you both, whether or not I can set you on fire.”
“Mastery of our Wendy not going well?” Zotorro jibed. He arched his brows in a pretense at being stern, but grinned.
“Following the plan, until you showed up.” Zavier arched his brow seriously.
“The river is overflowing its banks. If we don’t dam it up near the mountain lake, temporarily, Chrontropolis is going to turn into a canal city by mid-afternoon.”
“Got a specific plan?”
“Zent has a team ready to fly. It’s a matter of placing enough boulders in position. Zion’s going to oversee the structure. All you need to do, big brother, is take care of our Wendy and watch our backs. While we put our backs into it.” Zotorro grinned again. “Couldn’t resist.”
“Yeah, I like the ‘all you have to do’ part. It’s never that holy Hadres simple. How soon do I need to be ‘watching your straining backs’ from the Control room?”
“Another twenty minutes before we super-jet toward the mountain. Is she okay?”
Zavier paused, studying his brother’s bright expectant gaze. His love for Wendy shone like the bay’s lighthouse beacon splitting the thickest blanket of fog.
“On a scale, about sixty-five percent okay. She’ll get better with time.”
“Yeah, she hasn’t been here long.” Zotorro glanced at her, his face deeply lined with concern.
“I’m waiting for answers,” she called out, her impatience sharp as a knife.
“They’re building a dam to stop Chrontropolis from being a canal city,” Zavier explained. “You get to sit on my lap again, and torment my rod in a good way with that sweet goddess ass of yours.”
Once what he’d said sunk in, her glare could have burned them both to charcoal, let alone if she’d flung her flame at them. “Go save Chrontropolis, Super Dark Heroes. Don’t worry about me. I’ll stay here and be a good little capture.”
“Go,” Zotorro urged privately to Zavier’s
ear. “Take care of her. Zion’s setting up everything in the Control room to track us on screen.”
Giving half a nod, Zavier kept his gaze riveted on Wendy. She chafed beneath their dominance like a kitten with its fur rubbed the wrong way and made painfully static. “Mowzolinn,” he asked, “do you think his evil hand is behind this?”
Both of them stared as Wendy flipped her hair. The water-darkened strands danced sinuously on the creamy skin of her shoulder and breast, absolute seduction as far as Zavier was concerned. Directing her gaze at Zotorro, she tossed, “Be careful.” Her concern for him noticeably gentled her tone.
“I’ll plant a huge kiss on those divine lips of yours when I get back,” Zotorro promised. Pivoting to Zavier, he whispered, “I have a feeling one of our enemies in fair Chrontropolis is working hand-in-glove with Mowzolinn. What that has to do with the flood coming our way, I don’t get any intuitive hit right now.”
Zavier nodded. The next second, Zotorro twirled away in a blur of speed.
“What else did he tell you?” Wendy demanded, her gaze focused on his approach.
“I’ll tell you once we’re down in the Control center.” Placing one hand on the ledge, he jumped in and slid easily beside her.
Wendy gave him the eye, the equivalent of “I’ll believe it when it happens.” Turning her back on him, she reached for the bottle of shampoo.
“Hand it over, honey. Since you’re my capture, I’ll wash your hair again.”
“No, you won’t.” She clutched the bottle against her stomach, keeping it from him.
Zavier launched himself above her, reaching over her shoulder for the bottle. She tried to avoid him, whipping around. Accidentally, his body weight plowed into her, and she crashed down into the water. Still, she refused to give him the bottle when he grabbed for it. Twisting like an enraged sea witch, she foamed and waved the water battling him.
The feel of her slippery gorgeous body caused lust to boil in his veins. Her breasts filled his palms one moment, then he felt the extreme curves of her waist and the succulent flare of her hips the next. She spun rapidly, the sleek fullness of her thighs sliding beneath his hands.
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