Her Insatiable Dark Heroes

by Her Insatiable Dark Heroes (lit)

  “God, Wendy. What you do to me.” Finally clasping her waist with one arm, he lifted her up, and plucked the bottle away while she struggled valiantly.

  “Horrible, despicable donkey beast.” She slashed him good with her tone. Shoving her palm against his flank, she shot her flame against his flesh. A small cloud of steam surrounded her hand. Zavier tamped down his laughter. Still, a few rumbling chuckles escaped. Entirely disgusted, she removed her hand, tiny pops of sound bouncing between her palm and his body.

  “The only thing you did, honey, was lessen my super libido. Good, since I’m about to cleanse your hair.”

  “My new secret weapon,” she blasted back. “Maybe I should fire directly on the target next time.”

  “You’d just be firing up the missile, honey. Full-speed ahead.”

  “So you say. I’d like to flame test it. See if it rises to the occasion.”

  “I can’t wait for that test, honey.”

  Lowering them into the water, Zavier had no idea how to handle his wild angry kitten. Suppressing his amusement, he went on sheer instinct, bringing her inside his arms, her back pressed against his chest.

  “You’re not invincible.” Haughtily, she spoke over her shoulder, slamming him with her words.

  “My heart isn’t invincible.” Stunned by his own words, Zavier admitted their truth readily. He’d rarely thought about the needs of his heart. It had always been about desire, the pleasures of passion, for him.

  Not with her.

  She didn’t move or speak, his SlashFlame Kitten, as his heart drummed to beat the band. For her. Palming the heavy wet length of her hair, Zavier poured on the shampoo, and then tenderly worked it into her tresses. “How are you, honey?”

  “You mean my butt?” she asked, timid yet defiant.

  “Yes. I’ll put some balm—”

  “No. Give it to me. I’ll, I’ll do it.”

  “This time,” he agreed. “How sore are you?”

  “Never mind how sore I am,” she snapped. “All of you are just going to do whatever you want.” She blew out a sigh. “Train me. Remember?” Irate and embarrassed, she stiffened and Zavier could see one of her red-flushed cheeks.

  Methodically, he began rinsing her hair. He had no answers that would please her. Not right now. She would learn the more they trained her, the greater her own erotic pleasures would become. Yet, that wouldn’t satisfy her or change her feelings right now.

  “I remember,” he purred to her waiting ear. “Come on, honey. Time to get you dried and dressed.” Standing, Zavier swung her upwards, placing her on the floor. He leapt up beside her, the water sluicing from his body. Grabbing an absorbent cloth, he draped it around her. “Watch this.” His tone teasing, he moved to an open area of the room.

  When she glanced at him, he sprang a few feet off the floor. Imitating the motion of a whirlwind, he dried himself completely. Once he landed, he caught the astonished glimmer in her eyes. Zavier grinned.

  “Oh, yeah,” she challenged. “Watch this.”

  Unwrapping the cloth, she tossed it a good distance away. Gracefully spearing her arms above her head, she posed like a temptress queen. Slow and sensuous, her flame enveloped her entire body as he’d witnessed during her dance performances. Entranced like a lovesick fool, he stared at her beautiful body, now veiled by the yellow and orange of her flame. Taking a step forward, she twirled into an impromptu dance. Her ethereal flowing moves captivated him, as they always did. She appeared even more bewitching as the moisture rose above her, becoming a wispy spiral of steam. Halting after several pirouettes, she lowered her arms, her veil of fire shimmering downward at the same time. Like magic, it vanished at her feet.

  “Thank you.” It was all he could think to say. Even her dried hair glowed and waved around her, as if a blazing essence dwelled within her being. She looked like a primal fire goddess now arrived to burn him alive with passion and pleasure. And with love. “Ever do that before?” he asked, then forced his feet to move towards the garments he’d collected for her.

  “A few times, once my ability could be controlled. I couldn’t do it in my apartment, though. Too small, something would have ignited. It was bad enough...”

  Her voice trailed off. Zavier selected a lightweight white shirt and brought it to her.

  “Burn a few things, honey?”

  “Quite a few. Got the scorch marks to prove it, too.” Once she slipped the shirt on, a tiny smile lifted the corners of her mouth, but didn’t reach her eyes.

  “Wendy.” He tenderly claimed the nape of her neck, and then brushed his thumb along her jaw. Their eyes locked, and he felt his soul dance in the gleam of her gaze. “Back in a flash.”

  “Yeah, take your time,” she mocked.

  Zavier grinned, then rotated away from her and zipped to ultra speed. He whirled into the one-piece garment he and his brothers used for street combat. It was designed to carry their weapons, the ones most effective against the Super Bads. Continuing his spin, he moved to blur speed. He halted inside their special collections room and opened the drawer containing all of their sexual items, from the past and what they’d found so far. Palming the jar of balm, he flashed into white-noise speed.

  Wendy waited, hugging herself and intently staring at her reflection in the immense wall mirror. Seeing him approach in the mirror, she pivoted, her gaze asking if he’d remembered. Staying silent, Zavier gently placed the jar on her open palm.

  “Don’t look.” Mutinously, she firmed her jaw. The determination in her gaze seared him. “On second thought, go somewhere else.”

  Worried, Zavier hesitated, wanting to make certain she was okay and not suffering. Yet she needed this moment of control. “Snacks,” he announced, as if suddenly recalling what he wanted to do. “Hungry, honey?”

  She nodded, a tiny glint of appreciation in her eyes. Stepping back, Zavier pivoted, and strode for the stash of goodies he kept in his desk drawer, as he’d always done. He felt her gaze stab his back like a laser until he entered his ‘den’ area.

  After scanning the enormous room with a keen eye, a reflex action of protection now, he moved across the polished stone floor, the same color as the red mountains east of Chrontropolis. He’d rescued a lot of his office furniture and furnishings before the city had gone through the worst devastations. He and his brothers had managed to find several storage places before they’d finally taken over the Penthouse Tower.

  Salvaging his career possessions had been a matter of personal pride and a fuck you directed toward the unbelievable horrors they’d all endured. Zavier opened the desk drawer and took inventory of his stash. He grabbed the packages he wanted, then furrowed his brow, trying to recall her preferences. Mostly, he’d noticed her licking frozen treats during the summer.

  Ruefully, he smiled at his own youthful lust. Although, what he’d wanted then was her tongue entwined with his, sliding together as sinuously as she danced. Now, he wanted her tongue passionately engaged with his. He wanted her hot little tongue everywhere else on him, especially licking his pulsing rod.

  The mood she was in, his cock would invite the vicious bite of her teeth and an attempt to flame her chosen target. He grinned again. How could he feel this good?

  Their precious city was on the verge of being deluged and their enemies waited at the gate, all while Mowzolinn planned the final destruction of Chrontropolis. Zavier was convinced a divine hand had guided the city’s destiny. Somehow, despite the impossible odds, Chrontropolis had managed to survive, was, in fact, in the process of reviving itself.

  Picking out a few bags of sweet treats, he sauntered toward the doorway, aware it was time to watch his brothers’ backs. Moving out of the den, he stuffed the packages in his large side pocket.

  Wordlessly. Wendy held out the jar to him, her face tense, her gaze shadowed. Zavier palmed it and set it on a nearby stand while keeping his gaze on her. “Come on, honey. We’re needed.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Saving Chrontropo
lis From the Flood

  “You’re needed,” she corrected.

  Embracing her hand within his, he encouraged her beside him, as if they were lovers and companions. Responding, she walked beside him. “The way it turned out, you were very much needed last time.”

  “Yeah,” she answered, her tone fragile, “consider yourselves lucky donkey butts. Despite what you’ve done to me, I can’t let anything or anyone harm you.”

  “Lucky isn’t an adequate description. You’re a gift, Wendy. The gift.”

  Zavier led her inside the turbo-fast elevator. Pressing the panel, he entered a moderate descent rate. Swinging her before him, he loosely wrapped his arms around her. Delicate as small birds, her palms flattened on his chest.

  “Are you going to do that to me?” She kept her gaze trained on his chest.

  “Not my preference, honey. No.”

  She raised her face slowly. Her eyes glistened, over-bright pools of turquoise. “Something else, though.”

  The dilation of her pupils concerned him. “You are hurt. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “No. Not that way. Not physically.”

  The panel door whirred open and Zavier scooped her up. “Yes, Wendy, a lot of something elses,” he growled. “Especially when your desire peaks, and you’re begging me. And you’re going to tell me whenever you’re hurt, physically or emotionally.”

  Zavier didn’t pause for further discussion. It would have to be later. Striding rapidly, he focused on the fully activated main screen. The long-range cameras followed his brothers through the sheets of rain as they flew toward the low-level mountain range. Impressively, the jet-fast speed of the entire super team sheared through the rain, making it look like a silvery curtain.

  “Omygawd.” Her hands gripped his garment tightly as she gasped, her gaze riveted.

  From what looked like a giant fissure in the mountainside, a waterfall that had never existed exploded outward and spilled down the side with a fearsome force.

  “No holy wonder Chrontropolis is in danger.”

  “Agreed, honey. That’s one hell of a giant gusher, and headed straight for us.”

  Sitting in the control chair, Zavier positioned her on his lap while he scanned the displayed data. Carefully, he observed his brothers and the team, before sweeping the cameras and sensors, checking for any lurking enemies ready to ambush. “One thing about the pounding rain, honey, it keeps most of the Super Bads holed up.”

  Her grip relaxed, and she twisted toward the screen. “What are they going to do?”

  “Collect boulders and build a dam.”

  “How are they...I mean, how can they stop the speed of the water fast enough for the boulders not to be swept away? Holy moly!”

  She leaned forward, utterly captivated by the boulder the entire team carried between them. Huge on one end, it was the size of a six-story building. Working in concert as they hovered above the waterfall, they maneuvered the boulder until the small end pointed downward. Gradually hovering into a strategic position, they dropped the boulder so it wedged in the newly formed chasm. The horrific rush of water spurted over the top and furiously sprayed through the cracks, yet, didn’t dislodge the mammoth rock.

  Once it was apparent the boulder would hold, the super team darted in all different directions. With flash-dazzling speed, they collected enormous rocks, piling them up and around, forming a dam. Soon they used blows from their fists, crumbling small boulders into a concrete-like mixture that filled every cranny while the driving rain struck the dam, splashing up dramatically.

  “Hell thrown on a donkey’s back,” Zavier cursed.

  “What?” Keeping one eye on the screen, she half-turned to him.

  “There’s an attack on the Mayor’s stronghold, obviously planned beforehand.”

  Zavier split the screen, zooming in on the masked attackers. Barely seen because they wore skin-tight gray suits, the invaders scrambled all over the gargantuan wall like frantic monkeys. They sought a way over the barricading wall, fortified by an energy shield, which looked like a half-dome of pulsing light above the stronghold.

  Wendy gazed between the two scenes. “Somehow I get the ugly feeling Luby, the Lipstick Queen, is the instigator. I can see her smirking evil mug in my mind.”

  “I’m trying to get a communications point established inside, direct to the Mayor’s underground bunker. So far, it’s a bust. If Zion were here...”

  “Is there a way to boost the shield?

  It looks like those gray Bads are using some sort of device to weaken the field, open it up.”

  “Only if I weaken our shield and beam the surplus.”

  “Do it.” She spoke without hesitation.

  “At your command, milady SlashFlame.” Zavier used his Playboy Prince voice, his character when he’d acted in a yearly theater production. Swiftly setting the dials, he coded in the location. “We’re probably being scouted. Get ready to defend the battlements.”

  “Armed with flame, sir.” She mimicked a soldier.

  As he shot the beam, the outline on the screen glimmered and grew stronger. Several dozen of the gray Bads fell backwards as if electrically shocked. “Must have juiced them,” he muttered, and then checked on their defense status.

  “They probably thought you’d be focused on saving Chrontropolis from the flood.”

  “Yeah, and it looks like it’s taking the team longer to contain the waterfall than I thought.”

  Like silvery spears, the team charged back and forth, building the dam higher and plugging the holes. Zavier zoomed the available cameras in for an aerial overlook, even though their view would be severely limited. “What do you bet, milady, someone is forcing rivers of water toward the dam?”

  “Holy crap!” She strained forward.

  From what they could see, four different streams of raging water poured at odd angles into the lake behind the dam.

  “Mowzolinn,” he barked low in his throat. He tapped out a signal to Zion, even though his brother probably knew, or knew more.

  “That horror tyrant is behind this?”

  “Everything indicates it, honey, from the high level of weather wars tech being used.”

  “Just get me close to him; I’ll light him up like an oil-soaked torch.”

  “Tempting. We’ve got bad company.”

  “I’m itching like fire to flame someone. Who?”

  “More gray Bads. They’re scaling our building. Those suits must offer some protection.”

  “What? Did someone hive-breed them?” The next instant, she leapt up and down on his lap, excited by an idea. “What if I feed my flame into the shield? Is that possible?”

  Zavier considered for seconds, his mind spinning like a top. “Backlash,” he countered, worried about what could happen to her. “If there’s a backlash in the force you could become a cinder.”

  “We’d both go up in smoke,” she nervously joked. “But I’d like to burn those bastards off the building.”

  Going on gut instinct, and because either the Mayor’s stronghold or their home was about to be invaded, Zavier unhooked the power-link panel next to his knee. He didn’t like it, down to his core didn’t like it. His deepest need was to protect her, his Wendy. Yet he realized two things. This was the only way to protect her and his brothers. And she would fight him less, maybe come to love him sooner, if...

  “Wendy, build up your flame, flatten your palm on the receptor, then shoot—”

  “I got it,” she interrupted, hopping off his lap.

  He watched her concentrate. Sparks flew from her body and whipped brilliantly around her. In no time, an inferno of flame licked higher up her sides. Moving her arms upward, she drew the full blaze into her hands. Her hands entirely consumed by fire, she bent at the waist and palmed the receptor. The link panel ignited with her flame’s energy, glowing with an angry red-orange.

  Glancing at his screen and data, he straightened in utter surprise. The outline of the shield over the Mayor’s str
onghold pulsed like red neon. Best of all, gray Bads panic-jumped off the wall and scattered like a pack of chased rats. “Keep it up, honey; you got ‘em on the run.”

  Zavier brought their building up on screen. Their shield glittered in a new way, repulsing the ferocious rain. He kept one eye on his brothers and the team, who were still building up the dam, while searching the exterior of their home. One of the gray Bads had penetrated an outside elevator, one they didn’t use because it wasn’t safe, since the translucent capsule made anyone inside an easy target.

  Down below, he caught sight of a few gray Bads scurrying off, disappearing into the alleyways of the city. Not knowing the extent of her power, Zavier calmly suggested, “Wendy, focus on the outside elevator. See it in your mind. Neutralize—”

  “I see it.” She spoke as if she were in a trance. “Blasting.”

  “He’s unconscious,” Zavier rapidly stated. “We’ll interrogate him later. Stop now,” he encouraged rather than commanded. “You’ve stopped the attack.”

  “I want to find out who.”

  On the data info he watched her fire streak along the energy grid. “How, Wendy?”

  “Truth,” she uttered as if that explained it all.

  “Be careful.”

  “Fire seeks its own truth. And exposes the truth.”

  Not fully understanding, Zavier swiveled his gaze between the search of her flame and the super team’s progress in building the dam. The team’s stamina had waned, yet they remained ahead of the water’s savage surge against their structure. He desperately hoped a second-wave attack hadn’t been planned. His resources had worn thin and his brothers could be too fatigued to fight off more enemies.

  “Found it, the ignition site,” she stated, triumph beneath the monotone of her voice.

  Her fire trail ended at the Mayor’s stronghold, inside one of the guest rooms. “Pull out, Wendy. I have the location.”