by Kit Tunstall
Armand shook his head, and Foster muttered something, his expression a cross between bewilderment and hurt. “We do, Shaun. Having you near me has filled an aching void I’ve lived with all my life.” He brushed a hand across Foster’s arms. “My dear friend filled it partway, but there was still something missing, until you.”
“It’s true. Why else do you think we were with that covey when it was raided?” Foster cupped her hip, squeezing gently. “The dreams directed us there.”
“They could have revealed you were an agent,” Armand said with a mixture of amusement and despair. “Perhaps it’s for the best we didn’t know what you were, or we might not have waited for you.”
Shaun rose to a sitting position, shaking her head. “You’re saying you were deliberately waiting for me to raid the mansion? You weren’t part of that covey?”
“No. Foster and I do not associate with the coveys. There is too much competition for food, too many petty squabbles, and too much pressure to guide the younglings when they want no guidance.” He sighed, his eyes staring off into the distance. “We have been content these years together, but there was always an awareness of something still missing, even before we dreamed of you.”
Foster shrugged. “Who knows? If we were attracted to each other, if we shared a sexual relationship, maybe it would have been enough for us. For whatever reason, we were meant to find you. You were meant to be with us.”
“But why would you need me? You share this amazing bond.” She ducked her head, embarrassed. “I couldn’t stand to be nothing more than your plaything, to be closed off from the intimate relationship you share.” Her head snapped up when Armand laughed. Shaun was prepared to vent her outrage, but he spoke before she could give voice to her angry reaction.
“Is that what worries you?” He put an arm around her, drawing her into his arms. “It is not just a physical need you satisfy, ma belle. We will share this bond with you as well, once your mental powers develop.”
“Armand,” Foster said, his voice thick with caution.
“What powers?”
“We will change you to be like us.” Armand nodded, clearly believing it was a simple matter.
“What? No.” Shaun withdrew from his embrace. “I can’t. I’m an agent --”
His mouth tightened. “You were an agent. Now, you are our consort.”
Ire stirred, Shaun tried to scoot backward, needing space. Foster restrained her, shaking his head. “It is your choice, Shaun. We won’t force you to become like us if you don’t want to.”
“I won’t lose her to mortality,” Armand hissed fiercely, trading glares with Foster.
“No, you’ll lose her to your own stubbornness, Armand. Allow Shaun to make up her own mind.”
Foster’s words reassured Shaun, as did the slumping of Armand’s shoulders and his reluctant nod. Tentatively, she said, “You’re both mad, you know.”
“No doubt.” Foster managed a weak grin. “Do you believe anything we’ve said?”
“I can’t. It’s too wild.” Left unspoken was the complete truth -- their words resonated with her on a deeper level, one not ruled by logic. It had to be nonsense, but she found herself wanting to believe, was in fact perched on the edge of accepting everything.
“Give it time, chérie.” He leaned forward to kiss her neck before adding, “In the meantime, may we pleasure you?”
“Only if I can reciprocate.” Somehow, she managed a lighthearted tone, even though her mind dwelled on the thoughts racing through it. Shaun was certain she couldn’t lose herself in pleasure, but hadn’t accounted for the determination of the men.
Once again, she found herself on her back, this time with grapes at her mouth. She accepted Armand’s offering with slow, sensuous movements, rolling it on her tongue before biting into it. Her gaze darted to the tray from where they were taking the items used to toy with her. They’d gathered together all of her favorites -- strawberries, grapes, whipped cream, maraschino cherries, bananas, and chocolate sauce. Her stomach quivered with anticipation as she speculated what they planned to do to her. From the looks of things, she was going to be the main entrée. Shaun’s pussy convulsed at the thought.
Foster reached for the chocolate sauce, decorating her stomach and thighs with enthusiastic swirls as Armand drew intricate patterns on her skin with his finger, dipping it frequently in the cherry juice. Their opposite styles were amusing, but she didn’t have the urge to laugh. Instead, she wanted to cry out at the sensations spreading through her as they began swiping away the edible body art using their tongues.
Armand took a huge strawberry, dipped it in a line of chocolate sauce adorning her stomach, and trailed it lower, across her mound, and into her slit, making her tremble at the feeling. She gasped with surprised pleasure at the intrusion of the berry into her pussy, squirming when he rubbed it against her clit firmly. The texture was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, simultaneously soft and rough, making her slicker than she had been just seconds before.
He lodged the strawberry into her opening, and she moaned, arching her hips as his head descended. Armand’s uneven breath washed across her mound, causing her to stiffen in reaction, anticipating his tongue sweeping inside her pussy. The keenness didn’t last long, and his skilled technique far exceeded her expectations.
Armand started out tracing her clit before he drew it into his mouth to suck lightly. Foster had been engaged licking chocolate from her thigh, but when he trailed his tongue across her skin to her pussy, she went rigid, thinking she might pass out just from the thought of the two of them eating her out together.
He slipped the appendage inside, moving around the berry to stroke the walls of her pussy, as Armand continued sucking on her clit. Shaun cried out, unable to hold back the reaction, just as she couldn’t keep her hips from pumping against their faces, wanting more. When Foster dislodged the strawberry to sweep his tongue inside her opening, she cried out again, gathering handfuls of the fur throw in tight fists to keep herself grounded.
Armand increased the pressure of his sucking artfully, in small increments, until she was barely aware of a pause in the pressure. All she could feel was his mouth wrapped around her clit, as Foster tongue-fucked her with rapid thrusts. Shaun tightened her hold on the rug, seeking something to keep her tethered. Convulsions swept from her womb and into her pussy, and sobs of ecstasy burst from her as she found release. Her pussy convulsed as her legs tried to tighten around them, wanting to keep Armand and Foster between her thighs forever.
Inevitably, they withdrew, leaving her an exhausted, sated heap of sensation.
“Delicious,” said Armand.
Foster nodded. “Your sweetness outshines the fruit, chérie.”
Shaun was convinced she was spent but hadn’t counted on Armand lifting her onto his lap. She cuddled against him for a long moment, regaining her breath, as Foster stroked her thighs. Her mind was just starting to clear when Armand lay back, taking her with him. With her head in the direction of Armand’s feet, she straddled him, facing Foster. He found the opening of her pussy, nestling the head of his cock there until Foster was standing before her, bracing her hands on his thighs as she leaned forward slightly to facilitate the position.
Armand speared her, thrusting deep inside her with one stroke, crying out his pleasure. The action renewed Shaun’s passion, and she met his thrusts eagerly as her gaze settled on the tray. She reached for the whipped cream, chuckling. Foster watched with interest as she brought the can to his cock, spraying a liberal portion on him. His eyes closed as he subtly thrust forward, clearing expecting her to take him into her mouth.
But she wasn’t finished. Barely holding back giggles, Shaun took a chunk of banana and placed it atop his shaft, garnishing the whipped cream. “Bananas Foster,” she said, the laughter escaping.
Armand’s laughter rumbled through his body, causing her pussy to clench around him as his erection spasmed. Shaun waited until Foster was in a full-throated laugh be
fore darting forward, taking in as much of his cock as she could. With delicate strokes, she licked away the sickly-sweet whipped cream until it was only Foster’s penis and the banana in her mouth. Looking up at him through veiled lashes, she sucked forcefully, the juice of the banana and Foster’s pre-come mingling in her mouth in a delicious cocktail.
His face was contorted with pleasure, the strong column of his throat revealed by him tossing back his head. His cries of pleasure mingled with hers and Armand’s as he thrust into her mouth in concert with Armand plunging into her pussy. Shaun lost herself in the rhythm and his cries, allowing instinct to take over. Somehow, she managed to keep sucking Foster’s erection, to feather her tongue around his corona and lave the bundle of nerves at his sensitive V, even as her body trembled with reaction to Armand’s pace.
Her pussy convulsed as Foster’s staff spasmed. Hot fluid filled her mouth, and she swallowed automatically, letting the banana fall to the floor as she withdrew her mouth from his cock. Armand’s body was tight with tension, and when her pussy clenched around him as Foster dropped to his knees, straddling Armand’s legs while sitting in front of her, he found release, shooting hot streams of fluid inside her quavering pussy.
As the orgasm washed over her, tiny pricks of pain at her neck flared and faded. The sounds of Armand and Foster sucking in concert, both taking her blood, filled her mind, enhancing her pleasure. There was something wonderful about sharing her blood with them, a gift she gave willingly. Not only did it enhance her physical pleasure, but also strengthened the mental bond forming with them.
As they fed, her mind whirled, speculating how much more intense the experience would be if she let them change her to be like them. If she shared their mental abilities, how mind-blowing would it be to orgasm while sharing their blood? A shiver raced down her spine at the thought of drinking from them, but it wasn’t prompted from disgust. The idea was entirely too tempting, leaving her with much to contemplate.
Chapter Eight
Two days later, Shaun awoke in what was quickly becoming her accustomed and favorite place -- cradled between Foster and Armand in Armand’s massive bed. A look at the clock revealed it was barely past noon, meaning her lovers wouldn’t rise for another hour or two. Coffee beckoned, and she clambered from the bed, not worrying about waking them. It would take much more than her shifting and scooting off the bed to rouse them from the regenerative rest that assured their continued immortality.
Walking over to retrieve her robe from the hook on Armand’s door, a wave of dizziness passed over Shaun. With a rueful brush of fingers against the wounds in her neck, she found her explanation easily enough. While Armand and Foster had been careful to take only a little of her blood, they drank of her each time they made love. It seemed to be all they did, so no wonder she was feeling lightheaded.
A little queasy too. Her stomach churned as she slipped on the robe and left the bedroom to pad downstairs in her bare feet. Absently, she rubbed it, thinking she needed food to replace the lost blood that much more quickly.
So they could drain it from her again. With a sigh, she entered the kitchen, going straight to the coffee machine. Foster had reprogrammed it to begin brewing when she awakened, so the coffee was ready and waiting for her. As she took a mug from the cupboard, Shaun contemplated how futile it was to continue the cycle they had established. She could never meet their requirements for blood in a long-term relationship. As a human, she would weaken too quickly, necessitating they look elsewhere for sustenance. The thought had her seething with jealousy, but it was something she would have to come to terms with if she was really going to stay, as she had been thinking of doing in her private moments the past two days.
Could she stay with them as a human? Inevitably, she would age and die. Aside from the vanity aspect of not wanting to become old in their eyes, it was impractical to think the type of relationship Armand and Foster wanted with her could be sustained beyond a few decades. She couldn’t imagine being the object of their sexual desire, and the primary source of their sustenance, when she was in her sixties or older. While thirty years with them sounded like a lifetime to her, she knew it would pass in a blink for them. Was it fair to start something she couldn’t finish, metaphorically? Could she remain as their consort while retaining her humanity, knowing she would eventually have to leave them, either by death or her own choice when she became a burden?
Shaun sipped the hot coffee, wincing at the way it burned her mouth. Shaking her head, she wandered from the kitchen to the den, seeking escape from her thoughts, but not finding it easily.
How could she even think of becoming a vampire, something she had been taught to exterminate? Never had Shaun hated necros, but she couldn’t approve of their feeding methods, whether or not the Agency had driven large numbers of them to murder. It was insane to think of becoming one so she could remain forever with Armand and Foster.
There were no guarantees of forever, of course. With the Agency continually improving their hunting and termination methods, the world was an unsafe place for necros. Whether or not she became one, she could lose both of the men who had come to mean so much to her so quickly.
Yet, it seemed willful and foolish to deliberately turn her back on the opportunity presented, to spend what could conceivably be eternity in their arms just because she might lose them either way. If only ethics guided her indecision, she wouldn’t have such a difficult time choosing. Shaun knew if she could excise any hint of emotion from her judgment, she would come to a quick, simple answer: Leave them as soon as possible, retain her humanity, and try to forget about everything she had experienced with them.
It wasn’t that simple though. Try as she might, she couldn’t analyze the situation critically without paying heed to her feelings. She shied away from labeling the emotions, but knew they couldn’t be ignored. What she felt was equally important as what she should feel, and what she should expect herself to do. Not to mention, she had to weigh how Armand and Foster felt too. Their love for her was genuine. She had no doubt they believed she was their soul mate. Not being ruthless enough to turn her back on that, she could find no easy solution to her dilemma.
Shaun settled on the recliner in the den, reaching for the remote. The satellite dish attached to the roof offered myriad choices, and she began flipping idly through the channels, trying to clear her mind.
An infomercial for a food processing system caught her attention for a couple of minutes, but she changed the channel upon acknowledging she would probably never use it -- especially if her diet changed to one of mainly liquid in the future.
A news program stopped her in mid-flip, and her mouth dropped open with shock. Her own face was splashed across the screen in a montage of agent photos displayed for a long moment, before the screen cut back to the anchor. The TV announcer gave a succinct recount of events at the mansion, listed the dead as three agents, with no mention of Torres’s name, and then said Shaun’s name. Her photo appeared in the corner of the screen.
“NCA agents are trying to find Agent Shaun O’Grady, missing since the raid at the mansion. Sources inside the Agency say she is most likely dead, but her family refuses to accept that.”
The coffee mug tumbled from Shaun’s fingers when her parents appeared on screen, along with a note at the bottom indicating the clip was recorded earlier. Her stocky father seemed to have shrunk in upon himself, and her mother’s robust Italian complexion was pale, with heavy bags under her eyes. They were pleading for any information about Shaun’s whereabouts, both fighting back tears.
To see her father crying was a shock for her. He was a man of hearty laughs and jovial disposition, not prone to gloom. She couldn’t remember seeing him cry since Granddad’s funeral when she was fourteen.
“Please, we beg you to contact us if you know anything about our daughter,” said Giada O’Grady, staring intently into the camera in such a manner Shaun felt like her mother was in the same room. “She can’t be dead.”
&
nbsp; The screen cut back to the anchor, looking suitably somber. Shaun missed his closing comments as Foster and Armand came rushing into the room, both nude, with fear in their expressions. “What’s wrong?” Armand’s eyes swung wildly around the room.
Shaun shook her head, tears overwhelming her ability to speak. “Nothing.”
“Then why do you hurt so, chérie? Your pain woke us from our slumber.” Foster came closer, stepping gingerly over the broken ceramic shards and wet spot on the carpet. Once clear of those, he knelt beside her chair, touching her hand, as Armand joined her in a similar pose on the other side.
“My parents ... they were on the television begging for some information about me.” Horrified, Shaun stuffed her fist against her mouth, biting on her knuckles to hold back sobs. How could she have been so thoughtless to have gotten swept away in a tide of passion and not given a thought to anyone in her life besides herself? “The Agency considers me dead, but my parents won’t believe it. They looked so distraught.”
“All will be well,” Armand said, looking calmer by the moment.
“I have to see them.” Shaun gripped Foster’s hand, turning to look at him. “Please let me see them.”
“You aren’t a prisoner.” Foster’s eyes seemed dull when he nodded to Armand. “We won’t force you to stay.”
Armand took her hand, and she turned to look at him, knowing he would be the one to try to stop her. To her surprise, he brought it to his mouth to press a light kiss to the palm.
“Having you with us has been bliss, ma belle. My heart will miss you.”
Shaun closed her eyes, not needing their honed mental powers to sense the anguish in the two of them. It was mirrored in her, but what choice did she have? She couldn’t turn her back on her family to embrace being a necro, even for Armand and Foster. Too many obstacles stood between them, and they all had to accept that.