Parts of me wanted to explode.
“I half expect her to perch on a rock and sing a haunting ballad while sailors wreck their ships trying to reach her.”
“Fuck.” Mavros had added his own intellectual comment. “Greek literature? And you think me a stuck-up individual?”
“That was a summary of the mythology of the siren, yes. You’re not a stuck-up individual, no. Stuck-up asshole.”
“Thank you.”
Zorie had rummaged in the bag to pull out blue lace panties and bra, which she put on, sliding the panties up her gorgeous legs. Then she tipped out and held up a flimsy blue sari.
“Does she know how to do that up?” I asked from the corner of my mouth.
“I bought the most complicated and see-through one I could find.”
Smart.
Within thirty seconds she’d slipped it around and over her body and tied it at the side. The dress had a proper top half that wrapped over and held up her breasts but the midriff looked transparent – something I verified as she sauntered over, smirking. The peekaboo effect of her navel showing and the sides of her body swaying as her hips went one way then the other...that had to be illegally sultry.
Mavros sprang to his feet at the same time as I did, but I managed to get the chair for her first. “You did well.”
Her smirk widened to a definite good-natured smile. When had this become so...normal. I’d thought, imagined, some titanic struggle to get us so happily intimate. What a pity Mavros was present.
The electricity of our combined desires was thick enough to wring sparks from the air. “You might’ve taken longer,” I said.
“I might.” She sat then shifted in her chair as Mavros and I also sat.
“Thank you.” I waved my fingers vaguely and couldn’t help a grin breaking out. “For everything. Not just for that lovely display of your body.”
“You noticed? Oh my.” Dark ringlets swung across her face as she leaned over the table. I saw her moisten her lips. “But what else did you mean?”
“I mean thank you for truly forgiving me.”
“Ahh. I guess I have, yes. Though I cannot forget, I have forgiven.” A frown played on her forehead then waned. “Breakfast smells wonderful. And so do...” She sucked in a breath then cleared her throat, as if to steady herself. “Both of you.”
Those grey eyes of hers, peeking out from behind the dangling locks of her hair, said sex, you can take me to bed and fuck me, I’m yours in the most basic language possible. Her hair stirred as she breathed, and those breaths were coming deeply and fast.
Both of us. I looked at Mavros and tried not to scowl. He wasn’t looking back, instead, he studied Zorie.
“You’re making this too easy. And giving young Grimm there a seizure.”
“Am I?”
Oh she was. Her words had left me drowning in a sea of fantasies where I took instead of asked. None of them involved Mavros. Most involved me bending her over the nearest object and fucking her after hurting her dearly.
I smiled, though my cock seemed to have swelled to monstrous size inside a very small space in my jeans, and I was aching with the heat of a thousand suns to be inside her...or, at the least, nine hundred and ninety-nine suns.
And all the while as that smile faded I was saying to myself, don’t touch her yet. Not yet. Not yet, because I had to wrestle myself back into some form of control first. Maybe it was good that Mavros was here, after all. I didn’t want to hurt her. It was just the mesmer bug rising to the surface at the scent of a susceptible female within range of my dick. I’d mastered that side effect before.
Chapter 10
Zorie
The pillow was soft, the bedclothes sweetly cool and luxurious on my skin, and the two men were sparring when I was literally panting to be fucked. Excruciating. How silly of me to have forgotten what it could be like in the presence of mesmers when I wasn’t deliberately enraged, aiming to kill them, or despising them. Lately it’d been all three.
The sensation of arousal on awakening had been so severe I’d hid in the sheets and tried to pretend I was unaffected. It hadn’t worked, and when Mavros arrived as well, ka-boom.
My breathing became so exaggerated that if I tried to stop myself I’d crack a rib. Still, I felt safe in bed, snuggled up in Grimm’s shirt. God, even that smell made me wild. If they’d been eating breakfast and not, as I suspected, watching my bed, I’d have put my hand down there and gotten off in the quietest way possible.
I wondered if I could get off by myself. Maybe?
I thought of doing it, and found myself imagining them surprising me masturbating.
Sneakily, I squeezed my hand between my legs. At the merest brush of my fingers near my cunt entrance, I shocked myself and flinched. I turned the groan that came to my lips into a muffled noise.
Cunt – Mavros’s disgusting word that he’d trained me to love.
The last time I’d had sex with anyone worthwhile had been as a sex slave at the mansion of Einar and Kaage. Grimm and Kaage had fucked me at the same time, while I was tied to a table as a makeshift human chess board, and that was after they’d turned my back into a pincushion with the evil little chess pieces.
Memories. Yeah. That one was horrifying and yet it also turned me on. Being a mesmer victim did weird things to your thought processes.
After being utterly unfucked, in a nice way, for five months, hiding in bed, half-naked, with Grimm and Mavros waiting out there for me to emerge was a bad strategy. I was unravelling faster than a fishing line with a shark on the end.
Two sharks in this case.
Hiding had lost its appeal.
I climbed from under the sheets sans underwear, with my super sensitive nipples scraping at the shirt, and with diabolical sex fantasies running rampant. At their urging, I undressed.
I found it titillating to let them watch me. My two dirty voyeurs. I reveled in it despite the fear creeping in uninvited. What could go wrong with teasing two men who could, possibly, make me do whatever they wanted me to do?
I wasn’t sure any mesmer could make me do anything, anymore. I’d grown powers of my own.
They couldn’t see from the table that I was aroused, could they?
I whipped on the blue panties and the bra then figured out the mysteries of the sari. Wrapping that around me was a dance of the seven veils.
Undressing then dressing in front of them had made me appreciate every sensual inch of my femaleness.
As I walked toward them, the wet crotch of my panties slid over my heated cunt. I wanted them to touch me, and instead they squared off at each other. I sat down and lustfully eyed the men and wondered how long before they pounced.
Instead they were polite as hell.
I needed to accelerate the process. I needed to face facts...I was dreaming of them both taking me at once and I swear my pussy was pulsing in time with my heart.
Maybe I should’ve chosen one and purred over him but doing that seemed perilous. Mavros looked as dangerous as a sun-bathing lion. Grimm seemed about to have that seizure Mavros had mentioned – he was staring toward me unfocused, but not quite at me – I could tell the difference. One clenched fist rested on the table. The other hand held onto the side of his chair. I frowned, wondering what was going through his mind. Had I not just offered myself up on a platter?
“Perhaps,” I muttered, feeling disgruntled and neglected. “I should go back to bed and wait for a man to arrive in the room.”
I was aware of Mavros rising to his feet, shadowing me but I didn’t turn to see. If he was bored and leaving, I might snarl at him. If angry at my taunt...that notion made me cease to breathe. Teasing had its benefits.
“You do like playing with fire,” he said quietly.
My chair lurched. Startled, I gasped and clutched the sides as the chair was manhandled into place until I faced him.
“Hello.” He subsided to one knee before me, wearing a languid, assessing smile. His black curls casually frame
d his broad face. His shirt was precisely buttoned. And yes, he was annoyed.
I breathed, shakily.
“I don’t like being told what to do.”
“I didn’t...” My frown returned.
“It was implied.” He placed one hand on my left knee and the other on my right.
“Um.” Though there was no pressure on my legs, I was melting, anticipating him opening my legs...
Then Grimm leaned over me from behind and pulled on my hair until I had to look up at him. “No playing with her without me. No punishing either.” The growled comment had my utter attention. His shaggy hair had gone but what was left was something more animal than the Grimm I once knew. A shiver caught me and he smiled. Then he held my head in place with both hands and kissed me.
“We haven’t tossed that coin but you can have heads and I’ll have the tail end.”
With gaze locked with mine, Grimm pulled away from the kiss. I sighed and curled my fingers into his forearms and biceps. He hadn’t even used tongue yet.
“Truce then? We’re both fucking her?”
God. Grimm saying that made me even more eager.
“Yes.”
“I think I want that end too.”
Mavros grunted. “Be thankful I’m sharing her.”
“Fuck, you think –”
“Heyyy,” I rasped out. “Objectification. Stop arguing or I’ll run away.”
Mavros sank his fingers into my flesh.
“Please?” I wriggled. I wanted Grimm’s mouth on mine but Mavros held me. I wanted more kissing, more everything. “Come back. Please?”
“Is she instructing again?” Mavros pushed the sari up higher, baring me to the very top of my thighs.
Those fingers, he inserted them...I shuddered and shut my eyes, sighing. He’d slipped them beneath my panties. One hand tented up the fabric and stroked my clit, ever so lightly. I could feel the warm rush of air from his mouth. So close yet I stopped myself from arching.
Too soon. Too easy, he’d said. Let them work for it.
“Yes. She is.”
A trickle of moisture escaped me as he painted my skin with his touch. His fingers drifted lower, to my slit. One or two fingers stroked along the whole length, from clit to almost my asshole, before they found my entrance and pressed inside me.
Whimpering, I clamped my hands onto Grimm’s forearms but found myself slipping down the chair and spreading my legs wider. “Please.”
“More?” Mavros asked, his voice smooth as honey.
“Yes. Oh yes.”
“Little slut.” Amused, Grimm kissed me, distracting me for all of one second. My awareness wobbled from his kiss to Mavros toying with me, finger-fucking me, and back again.
Mavros said softly. “We should give pleasure, but not let her come.”
“What? What did you –” Grimm covered my mouth again, silencing me.
I swallowed the other words, rapt, wriggling in their grip, taking Grimm’s tongue inside me, and Mavros’s fingers, exchanging breaths and moans.
I couldn’t fathom their words, not with both of them on me. Mesmers gave the best orgasms, even when their victims were also letting themselves be fucked, tortured, and abused.
Not that I was in that category. I was whole of mind. I was me. I wanted this. I squirmed to get more, more of everything. Need swamped my every brain cell.
Grimm watched my eyes, my mouth. “If we don’t let you come, what would you do?”
“Scream?” I pouted. “Don’t do that. I need to.”
I shut my eyes to absorb the lust cramming, dripping, throbbing into every part of my body.
“If you came...when we didn’t want you to,” he whispered, only loud enough for me to hear. “I’d have the right to take that proverbial pound of flesh from you.”
Did he mean that?
Cold trickled in. How far would he go, this new Grimm? A mesmer was never predictable.
Yet Grimm would never be like the ones I’d killed. Teasing me, that was all.
“You’d let me?” he lowered his head and plucked at my upper lip with his teeth, before nibbling a pathway lower. “Hmm?
“Mmm-hmm.”
Sighing, I turned my head to the side, offering my vulnerable neck in the hope of more ravishing. Mavros chose that moment to strip my panties from me, dragging them from under my ass and down my legs.
I had them both. These two men. They wanted me, wanted to take me, both at once.
When Grimm drew his open mouth across my throat, his teeth scraping my skin, I moaned and wondered if I could come from biting alone. Arching, I pushed my breasts to his mouth, begging soundlessly.
With my head riveted to the chair by his hand, he bit where I least expected it, directly over my larynx.
I choked out a no but he pinned my arms as I tried to stop him.
Locked there, I quivered, coughing. A little more force and he’d crush flesh, maybe kill me.
Did he realize what he might do, accidentally?
Should I kick? Mavros might intervene.
“Careful. Don’t choke her.” Mavros sounded clinical.
I kicked my heels on the floor.
“Grimm.”
The teeth in my neck stayed where they were, though I felt Grimm’s tongue lick at me.
“Grimm!” Now Mavros seemed alarmed.
The man lifted away his mouth, but his arms shifted, wrapping across my chest and throat. His muscles were as ungiving as steel. “Sorry.”
I swallowed. My mouth opened as I thought of what to say.
“Enough.” He kissed my forehead. “Let’s fuck her. I want to see her scream.”
Stark cruelty pricked his eyes, dirtying the widening smile.
And that potential cruelty excited me beyond anything else he’d done. Beyond belief. How?
If he’d changed, so had I.
Ignoring Mavros he released me, stepped to the side, and scooped me from the chair. Within a few long strides, he reached the bed and dropped and rolled me onto it, so that I landed on my stomach, bouncing. Face first in quilt, I struggled to rise, but he sank a knee into my back and flattened me.
I put my hands to either side and attempted to push myself up.
“Don’t. Move.” His knee pressed harder. “You wanted us. You got us. But our way.”
Footsteps said Mavros had arrived. “Let’s get the sari off her.”
Somehow, somewhen, they’d gotten over their no sharing problem. I’d missed the exact moment. I didn’t care. I buried my face in the bed while they efficiently stripped me, holding me down in different ways when I wriggled – hands, knees, arms, bodyweight, until I was naked.
Oh god, did I wriggle. I was soaking up their attention.
“It’s ripped,” Grimm said.
“Who the fuck cares. I can buy her more.”
“But maybe no more underwear.”
“Maybe.”
“I liked seeing you rip them off her.”
“True. I’ll buy at least one pair then.”
The silence that followed seemed ominous.
Grimm had a big hand splayed on my shoulder, but now he moved and straddled my back, then sat on me, facing away from my head. Squashed into the mattress, I gasped and attempted to throw him off but he only clucked his tongue and slapped my bare ass.
His voice was muffled. “I won’t squish you, much.” His legs were either side of my head and I eyed them, tempted to try nipping him through the denim. “I want to see you fuck her.”
He what?
The sound of a zip undoing then clothes being removed and tossed aside told me Mavros was preparing to do just that. I listened to Grimm taking off his shirt and unzipping his fly before I felt the bed dip, as if Mavros leaned on it.
“Open your legs, Zorie.”
I bit my lip and jammed shut my eyes, feeling myself respond sexually. Excitement was flooding every part of me. Despite my closed legs, my lower lips had parted and swelled. I hadn’t thought I could get more
aroused.
I wiggled my butt the tiniest amount, rocking Grimm.
His weight shifted and he leaned over to claw a hand into each ass cheek. “Open.”
The pain from those fingers. I inhaled sharply, loving the pain and his possession. I could obey...
It might be more interesting to see what they’d do if I refused.
Chapter 11
Grimm
Anger, annoyance, a need to own her ass, heart, body, and soul – all these had vied with each other ever since she suggested she wanted both of us.
I was seriously taken aback.
How could she want Mavros as well? Even if it had proved best that he was here, keeping me in line, reminding me of who I was. Fuck. Never thought I’d think that. I wasn’t a man who forced a woman. Or not unless she wanted it that way.
Zorie hadn’t liked my teeth on her throat.
A pity.
I loved her and I wanted her with a passion that would cover us in teeny tiny stars, and a lot of cum, if allowed out without a leash. I wanted to consume her. And there was the other problem.
Even now, I wasn’t sure what I’d intended with my teeth in her throat.
It could wait.
“Open your legs.”
I had Mavros doing a private porno for me, fucking her while I watched. The appeal of this seemed counter to what I’d thought minutes ago.
But I wanted to see her fucked, and that was a fact. “Zorie...”
“Mmmph.”
She hadn’t moved. This was a rebellion, deliberate too. I grinned evilly and Mavros raised an eyebrow that threatened to vanish under his black locks. The man was way too pretty.
I leaned over further and eyed her magnificent ass, and the blotched redness and paleness of her skin where my fingers sank in. If I bit her would she forgive me if I made her bleed?
I wasn’t sure where my teeth would stop.
Some things have to be tried to be appreciated. I bit her hard until she began to squeal and try to buck me off. Since Mavros was holding her also and biting her thigh, she had little chance.
After much attempted kicking and flailing, she gasped out “Stop! Stop!”
We stopped. We watched her grumble but open her legs.
Wicked Hunt (Dark Hearts Book 3) Page 5