Her Insatiable Dark Heroes

by Her Insatiable Dark Heroes (lit)

He could feel her reluctance, but she withdrew. Moments later, she staggered back. Leaping up, he caught her, carrying her back to the chair. After briefly scrutinizing her face, he cradled her in one arm. Focusing on the screen, he scanned for any more trouble, trouble with a holy big capital T.

  “The rain is ending,” she murmured.

  Sure enough the slashing sheets had lessened to a steady downpour. More importantly, the clouds were breaking up, letting the glisten of the sky show through, even if it wasn’t the bright blue of years past. With a final furious effort, the super team filled in the weak points of the dam, then soared above, observing the area from on high.

  Zavier panned the cameras over the area also, checking for an ambush or anything terribly awry.

  “Gone for now.” Her weak little voice had him protectively tightening his hold.

  “How do you know, honey?”

  “I felt it in my flame. I felt...Mowzolinn. He threw all the evil he had at us.”

  He believed her, his internal sense resonating with what she’d spoken. Still, other enemies lay in wait. Again he checked the data info while watching the team fly over several swollen torrential-rushing rivers. Finally, Zion aligned a camera on himself and gave the upright fist of victory, then the signal that they were returning.

  Zavier knew that was his first instinct, instead of using telepathy.

  “Close unholy call.” He glanced down at her face as she nodded against his chest. At least her pallor had lessened, and her cheeks were pinker. “Talk to me, Wendy. Tell me how you’re feeling.”

  “Drained. I’ve never used that much of my flame before. It was exhilarating at first. The sheer power of it... It’s easy to become drunk on power, isn’t it?”

  Zavier smiled at her intimately. “Mmmm, yes, until you discover you’re not the only one. And you have three brothers all too willing to prove their powers are equal or better.”

  “Male sibling rivalry. Oh, I remember the four of you testing each other out, often. Especially when you played sports.”

  “Dad made certain we all understood each others’ strengths and weakness. He never allowed any one of us to feel superior.”

  “Probably one reason all of you are such a great team, even more than being super-bonded. You certainly know how to tag-team me,” she added dryly, squirming a bit.

  “Do that again,” he purred, his cock standing like a sentinel.

  She stilled completely, then whispered, “Make me.”

  On impulse, his hand dove beneath her shirt, tickling her soft delectable belly. She screeched, then wiggled like a protesting kitten. Denying his iron-heavy rod and her flare of desire, he beamed his yellow ultra-ray inside her, searching for any damage caused by the draining of her flame.

  “I feel that, you donkey ass.”

  “Feel what?” He feigned innocence just to rile her and keep her off guard as he seared away the dangerous levels of toxins he’d discovered inside her. Her body hadn’t been prepared to handle that intense and prolonged throwing of her flame.

  “It feels similar to before. What are you doing?” she demanded, not able to glare as strongly at him as he knew she wanted to. “Oh, the yellow beam.”

  Once he’d finished cleansing her system, Zavier immersed himself in the fiery passion still gleaming in her blue-green eyes, despite her ire with him. Boldly, he caught her nipples with his rubbing thumb. The succulent weight and movement of her breasts speared a path straight to his loins, making his cock feel like a lance. “You overdid it on the fire-thrower act, milady SlashFlame.”

  “Shouldn’t you be watching your brothers’ backs?” She moaned the last word then surrendered her head to his arm, lolling it back and forth.

  With every swipe of his thumb pad, her nipples hardened to large succulent buds, and the curves of her breasts swelled, a carnal feast for his senses. He growled low, almost silently in the back of his throat. Rubbing her nipples faster, his thumb stroking over her satin-warm breasts, Zavier figured his brothers’ backs were just damn fine. Besides, he’d set the alarm for any emergency communication or data. “We’ll be warned.”

  “Zavier,” she whimpered, inflaming him to ferocity of need that had him wanting to throw her down and mate her savagely.

  At the same time, the sound of her, the feel of her, the blazing fragrance of her kwim—and her, Wendy herself—she tugged at his heart.

  “Wendy.” Caressing down her svelte, slightly rounded belly with his flattened palm, he cupped her curls, sexy-wetness against the heel of his hand. He eased his thumb between her kwim lips, sliding his pad down the lovely length of her clit. Her hips quivered and she parted her thighs. “Feel, Wendy. I want you to feel exactly what I do to you now.”

  She moaned a lyrical sound of passion. One of her hands clutched his shirt; the other squeezed the top of his knee, a tiny vise. He plunged his thumb inside her sheath. Her juicy hot opening tightened. His loins clenched, becoming an excruciating ache and twisting his cock inside out with need. “God, Wendy.”

  Stabbing his thumb in and out of her, he manipulated her sensitized flesh, awakening her body to more pleasure.

  “Zavier,” she panted. “What are you doing to me?”

  “Loving you, Wendy.”

  She bucked her hips to match the rhythm of his thumb, her voluptuous ass rocking on top of his straining rod. Shards of pure paradise raced through him and he couldn’t get enough of her sweet hole. The creamy heat seized his thumb over and over. “Feel, Wendy.”

  With each strike into her, he subtly pressed against her erotic spot.

  “Oooooh...oh...oooooh,” she cried out. She arched with more frenzy, her butt smacking against his cock.

  Great Hadres, she blistered him to a ruthless lust. Somehow, he managed to keep plugging her little kwim hole until she yelled the arrival of her orgasm, thrusting her hips wildly. When she stiffened with bliss, her hips raised high, he plunged his thumb in deep and reveled in the silky squeezing of her opening. “I love you,” he rasped, soaring on a storm of feelings. All for her.

  “It itches,” she breathily flung at him, then frantically undulated long moments later.

  “Itches?” He jerked his thumb out of her.

  “Do something.” She pounded her beautiful ass on his cock, and then squirmed as if she’d just brushed against a poison groke plant. “Do something with that steely log in your pants, Mr. Superhero.”

  Zavier ripped the shirt off her in one motion. The tearing sound raged though him, and he hauled her upwards. Standing, he stared into the hazy brilliance of her eyes. “Yes, milady.”

  Bending over, he placed her on the carpet with a lusty toss, his gaze following every lush and delicate curve of her. Transfixed, forgetting his ability to spin out of his clothes, he shed his garments in record speed. “Show me what itches,” he demanded, the harsh fierceness of his tone a surprise to himself.

  She groaned a tiny sound, moving her hand down to her kwim. For a second she hesitated, and then grasped her mound. Her forefinger hooked her cleft and she pulled backwards, exposing her bright red clit, plump with need. He stroked his cock, straight as a flagpole inside his palm a few times, before dropping on her like a primitive. He caught himself with his arms on either side of her, legs braced, straddling her.

  “Wendy.”

  She blinked open her heavy eyelids. He swallowed before speaking, her eyes were dazzling in their azure color. As if to obey him, she whimpered and spread her thighs until she met the unmoving strength of his legs. Confusion slightly lessened the startling brilliance of her eyes.

  “I love you. I love you, Wendy.”

  She sighed, a deep release of breath that touched him to the core of his soul.

  Barbarically, he kneed her thighs farther apart. He plunged, lancing himself into her slick fiery hole. Lifting her on the strength of his cock, he halted. “Is this what you want?”

  “Yes.” The breathy sound of her answer felt like mist on his skin. Zavier withdrew and lunged. Rele
ntless and primal, he raged his lightning-scalded rod in and out of her. The complete yielding of her body enfolded him in softness and made him wilder. As she wrapped her long voluptuous thighs around him, he struck with more force, pumping faster, her sweet tight hole his. Only his, for now.

  Wendy.

  If he’d known it would be this ecstatic and extreme between them, he would have claimed her a long time ago, despite Zotorro’s love for her.

  Keening a song of whimpers to him, she climbed towards her zenith. Her sheath gloved him tightly, yet surrendered with a sultry softness that had him groaning like an inexperienced lover. Zavier allowed his own orgasm to undo him totally, but didn’t let his weight crush her. The brutal explosion at the base of his cock surged upwards, overpowering him like a tidal wave. He ebbed his orgasm-blazing rod in and out of her, flowing strongly within her sheath for a long while.

  “Dream.” He heard her murmur as she reached up, clinging to him, her lush sleek body his. All his.

  The entry warning buzzed a shriek that broke the spell of their afterglow. Wendy’s little luscious body jerked violently against his, and she strained away from him.

  “Stay still.” His tone soothed while he reached up to code open the secondary door, the one located at the end of a tunnel deep beneath their subterranean control room. Trouble? he asked himself. Gently, he brought her upright with him as he sat, then slowly stood. Clearing the remnants of pleasure from his head, he rapidly scanned the data.

  Relief coursed through him. His brothers had collected the gray Bad from the elevator and were depositing him in one of their underground containment cells. “Nothing, honey. At least, not yet.” When she shifted against his chest in a protest, he added, “I promise.”

  Automatically, he performed a swift survey of Chrontropolis. The rain had ceased, yet rivers of water still poured off of buildings, crashing with mighty sprays into the rushing flood waters that made the streets into canals. Superhero teams worked furiously to siphon off the water, directing the muddy deluge into the ocean using various innovative methods, including an old-fashioned bucket brigade, only at blur-speed.

  Now if he could only get a few minutes to be with her, gaze into her beautiful, bliss-filled eyes before...but he knew better, even as the Mayor’s personal signal lit up the screen, and as he heard the weary steps of his brothers approach them.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The True Pillar of Strength

  Exhausted down to his last muscle, Zent folded his arms and sauntered toward his naked brother and an exceptionally lovely view of Wendy’s nude backside. Wowza with wings attached, Zavier’s cock was still a ramrod inside her, his balls slack happy campers at the juncture of his thighs. Zent raised his eyebrows when Zavier glanced at him and indicated with a nod he needed assistance.

  “The Mayor’s stronghold was attacked and because of our Wendy the gray Bad’s buddies didn’t make it over the wall. The Mayor is signaling.” Zavier cast his eyes downward.

  The torn shirt lay in a heap. “I’ll take care of her.” Zent opened his arms wide, his strength returning for her.

  Giving him a meaningful look, Zavier lifted Wendy from his rod, handing her over. “No,” he told her firmly. “Zent can stay here with you. Relay any information I need from you.”

  Cuddling her close, Zent pivoted, carrying her away from the screen to where they couldn’t be observed.

  “You should put me down,” she snapped impatiently. “You’re totally fatigued.”

  “I do believe a certain area of my anatomy is rising to the occasion.” He leaned back against the wall, feeling better and more wicked with each passing moment.

  “What do I call all of you? Insatiable One, Two, Three and Four?” Her sarcasm could have wiped out a sky full of superheroes, he decided.

  “Just call us. That’s all that matters, my feisty kitten.” Zent grinned, and knew exactly why he’d burned his power reserves down to zero, or as close as it got, building the dam that had never seemed to end.

  “Why aren’t you wet?” she demanded, her tone delightfully irritable.

  “Moisture removal unit down below. What did you do, Wendy?” His curiosity cut a swathe down to his gut.

  She huffed a breath, wiggling a bit in his embrace.

  “Zavier beamed energy to the Mayor’s stronghold for protection from a bad attack. Then we were attacked here. He opened the receptor panel and I sent my flame in, boosting the power.”

  “Is that why our uninvited visitor appeared fried?”

  She shrugged. “Could be. Zavier did something to him.”

  “SlashFlame Kitten.” He poured his voice over her, adoring the feel of her in his arms, simply adoring her. “My kitten with claws of stupendous fire.”

  “You better believe it. Just too bad my stupendous claws don’t seem to work on the Dark Brothers.”

  “Mmmm, tickling with sparks.”

  “Zion beat you out. My clawing sparks already tickled him.” She couldn’t disguise the vulnerability of her voice beneath her sour tone.

  “Wendy.” Zavier called out. “Could you feel if the person inside the room was male or female?”

  “It felt feminine. Tall and slim. Odd.”

  “No one was supposed to be in that room,” Zavier explained, and then turned back to the Mayor.

  “Room?” Zent questioned.

  “I used my flame to trace the ignition point of the evil, or whoever was behind the attack. I think I found whoever was in charge here, in Chrontropolis. Inside a room at the Mayor’s stronghold.”

  “One of Mowzolinn’s lieutenants, probably.” Zent felt his brow furrow while rage spiked through him. “I’m going to be having nightmares about floods and endless torrents of water forever.”

  “Oh, gee, is this where I say drown yourself in me, instead, oh, big wonderful Dark Superhero? Oh, flick that big fishing rod into my hot silky water.” She paused, folding her arms tighter. “Never mind.”

  “Yes.” Lifting her higher, Zent nuzzled the middle of her ear. “Yes, say it.”

  “I already did.”

  “Say it for real.”

  She flashed a ferocious little frown at him. “I will not.”

  “You know you want to,” he crooned next to her ear, in the very manner he knew would draw her claws.

  “I do not!” Her tone bit him but good.

  “Sure you do darlin’.” He rubbed his nose on the side of her face, exasperating her further.

  “Last chance,” she warned.

  “You know you want to,” he purred like an utter lout.

  Her tiny fist slammed—pow—into his jaw. He stopped himself from joyfully laughing. Still, it bubbled through him, a life-giving elixir. “Ow, Wendy.”

  “Yeah, like that even hurt you.”

  “It hurt my male pride,” he mock-defended.

  “Male pride, schmale pride. Get over it.” She twisted her face beneath his, glaring for good measure.

  “Rub it. Make it feel better.” He added a whine to his tone.

  She popped him again, her little fist bouncing off his jaw. Swooping down, he seized her mouth, kissing her hard. Kissing her the way he’d dreamed of kissing her in the darkest depths of the night. Her stunned sweet lips didn’t move at first, and then she was returning his kiss, the voluptuous textures of her mouth boldly tasting his lips.

  Flinging her arms around his neck, she deepened their kiss at the same moment he sought more of her mouth. Only Zavier’s mental communication had him ending the erotic play of their lips.

  “Wendy,” he rasped against her lips before fully relinquishing them.

  “Big brother needs to ask you something.”

  She gazed at Zavier. Approaching, then halting a distance away, he asked, “As flame did you sense or feel anything about our enemies?”

  She closed her eyes, and they knew she relived her experience. “I feel three people,” she murmured. “Two men. One woman. I feel them making plans to take over sections of Chrontr
opolis once the Mayor’s stronghold is overrun and the flood devastates the city.” After drawing in a long breath, she continued. “I feel them arguing—Luby!” Her eyelids flew open. “I knew she was part of this, the Lipstick Witch. I think she believed Chrontropolis was about to belong to her, and her Super Bad minions.”

  Zavier nodded as if missing pieces fell into place. “Go get some rest, Zent. I’ll handle it down here and with the Mayor. Take care of Wendy.” After giving her a look of intense longing, he moved back to the screen.

  “The true pillar of strength,” she uttered. “Zavier depends on you all the time, doesn’t he?”

  “He does,” Zavier called back.

  “How does it feel to have all of us in love with you?” Ignoring the exchange, Zent spoke his feelings.

  “You are not,” she scoffed, yet some doubt rang in her tone. “In rut like stud dragonhorses, yes.”

  “That, too.” He grinned. “Come on, darling.” He set her on her feet. “I’d carry you and think nasty rutting thoughts, but I’m weary down to the bone, even that bone,” he added as she flipped a dubious glance at his cock, which had only partially risen to the occasion. So far.

  Draping his arm around her shoulders and drawing her against his side, he guided her toward the elevator.

  “I’m surprised you’re still standing at all,” she dryly commented, her compassion peeking out in her tone. She allowed him to fit her against his side even more closely. “Thanks for helping to save Chrontropolis.”

  “Looks like you helped save us too, my Wendy darlin’.” Once they stepped inside the elevator, he pulled her before him. Looping his arms around her, he cuddled her against his frame.

  “Do you need some of my healing fire?” She rested the side of her head on his chest, almost a content kitten.

  Zent swept his hands up her beautifully shaped back, and then cupped her head. “Wendy, do you have any flame left to give?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Your body temperature is low.”

  “Probably because I’m naked.”

  “Guess what?”

  “What?”

  As the door whirred open, Zent seductively backed her out of the elevator, keeping her tight against his body. “Close your eyes.”