by C C Dowling
The symphony of sounds my lovers make as they orgasm is melodic perfection. Time for me to sound my own pleasure and complete our harmony.
Like a pair of wings to envy even my father’s, I unfurl the mounting pressure within and let it explode. Energy tinged in both Dhark and Light ricochets around my belly and down my limbs, striking every nerve ending with purple-and-silver lightning.
Release tears through me like a raging storm, destroying and remaking me only to destroy me again. Pure, raw craving ravishes my deepest places, down to the molecules in my DNA. I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. How could it? I. Am. Consumed.
I don’t know how long we ride the wave to total and utter fulfillment. Somehow, we make it to the oversized bed made for three and tumble into it. Limbs tangled. Breathing heavy. Hearts beating.
“Holy fuck me,” Dhru says, breaking through the haze of post brains-officially-fucked-out bliss. “I wanna do that again.”
I sigh, only because I haven’t harnessed enough energy to laugh.
“I don’t know about you,” Creed says, his glassy, unfocused eyes on me, “but I’m going to need another minute.”
We exchange a look that tells him I understand exactly what he means. Dhru’s zealous, dragon nature might kill us both. But what a hell of a way to go out.
“What’s wrong, demon?” Dhru says, spreading my thighs apart with her hands. My muscles clench as she drags her fingers down across my clit, then plunges them inside. The sensation is too much. Too raw. Too her. “Can’t keep up?”
Pushing to my elbows so I can watch her work, I let a grin play at the corner of my lips. “Did you just challenge a Succubus to a sparring match in the bedroom?”
Dhru answers by blowing her hot breath across my pussy.
“Challenge accepted,” I say.
Creed throws his arm over his face and groans. “By the gods, I might not survive three days.”
Oh no, he doesn’t. If I have to keep up with our dragon, so does he.
I release a groan when Dhru’s tongue explores my swollen, wet lips. Her fingers slide lower, to the tight ring of my asshole.
Grabbing Creed’s dick with the hand not tangled in Dhru’s hair, I stroke him as Dhru uses my wet to lubricate and push inside me. Opening the floodgates on my gift, I transfer as much energy as I can to Creed. Dhru’s about to fill me up again, and Creed needs a boost.
“We’re in this together,” I say to him between pants as Dhru’s tongue makes me want to love her, worship at her feet, do anything she commands. “Get your ass up and moving.”
The Fae mutters something that sounds like, “Fuck.” Pushing to his knees, he slides in behind Dhru and tilts her ass until it sticks into the air. Taking her hips in his hand, he guides her back against him, and rubs his hard cock against her opening. Dhru gasps against my pussy when he penetrates her, but doesn’t stop. In fact, she goes at me harder, faster. Just like Creed goes at her.
Nothing is better than this. Than the sight of my Destined being fucked by her other Destined while her perfect, dirty fucking mouth takes me in.
This is right. This is home. This is my family now.
Hours later, when we’re all too spent to move, and the sound of steady breathing is the only noise in our dark room, I relax in a way I haven’t since I lost Mayz. Sure, things are complicated with my father, and I have no idea what I’m going to say to my mother. To my aunts.
But that’s a bridge I’ll have to burn when I get there.
Closing my eyes, I drift off to sleep. For the first time since my brother died, I’m content. Whole. For the first time, I dream not about vengeance, or death, or sadness. I dream about hope. About love. About a future. For the first time, I’m home.
To be continued…
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The Dharkling Daughter
Dhark & Damned
The Dharkstar Dragon Saga Book 3
Chapter 1
Creed
“No, I wouldn’t like to fuck you again. Said. No. Destined. Ever,” Dhru says. She sticks out her lip and pouts, spreading her deliciously naked thighs to give me and Harlo the perfect view of her even more delicious pussy.
The twist of her mouth, and determination in her dark eyes, is enough to drive me crazy without the crotch shot. I would do anything for those lips. For her. Then again, everything about Dhru makes me want her.
“Dragons.” Harlo says it like a curse word. It’s our newest four-letter. I understand the sentiment.
Ever since my soul found its other half in Dhru, and Dhru found her second half in Harlo, we’ve been fucking like . . . what would humans say?
Rabbits.
Pushing up against the backboard of the ridiculous-sized bed that takes up half the even more opulent hotel bedroom, I tuck a pillow under my back and another behind my head. “Damn, woman,” I grunt. “Don’t you ever get tired?”
“No,” Harlo says before Dhru has a chance. “No, she doesn’t. She should, but she doesn’t.”
Crawling over to Dhru on all fours, the demon third of our trio lowers her head between Dhru’s thighs. Great. Now all I can see are Harlo’s swollen nether-lips and perfect, heart-shaped ass.
At first, I wondered if it would bother me to have someone else pleasure my woman. To take what’s mine. Not only does it not bother me, I’m grateful the gods had the foresight to send some help. I’d drown in the wet, pulsing demands of my dragon without it.
My cock twinges at the sight of Harlo exposed. Of her mouth and tongue working Dhru’s slit. The sensation is odd, and I have to fight the wave of guilt that burns under my skin every time I see Charlotte Storm, Named Succubus assassin, in any way other than my enemy.
It’s not that I’m not curious about what she’d feel like wrapped around my dick—there isn’t a Lightling alive who hasn’t wondered what bedding a Succubus would be like. If any of us deny it, we’d be lying. Demons with the magickal ability to read your body’s every desire, to draw out and heighten the energy of your orgasm, is something anyone would want to experience.
Problem is, aside from the Council’s rule barring our kinds from fornicating, Called and Named have only ever been rivals. Honorable, duty-bound soldiers versus assassins for hire. Lightling versus Dharkling. Countless lost lives and bloodshed have happened on both sides at the hands of the other. The honor-bound part of my Fae nature compels me to hate her. To strangle the life from her body with my bare hands. But the more I watch her with Dhru, the more I learn about who she is, the more that encouragement turns to doubt.
Dhru tilts her head back, and a moan escapes her plump, perfect lips. Gods, I want to cover her mouth with mine. Drink in those sounds. “I don’t get tired,” she says between pants. “What’s the goddamn point of being half fucking fairy if you don’t continually heal yourself so you can keep fucking?”
I grumble my displeasure at the word fairy. She knows I hate that shit. That’s why she says it. And damn if her defiance doesn’t turn me on even more.
No lover has ever pushed my boundaries, my sanity, like Dhru. The loyal part of me, the part that’s used to taking orders, loves being bossed by her. But the leader and trained warrior part is used to having control. That part has big-time problems with Dhru’s overbearing stubbornness. We’re in a constant dance, she and I, a push and pull as we learn about each other. Having Harlo here helps smooth the times I’d rather strangle her than fuck her.
Strangling and fucking, on the other hand, go well together.
Working out the stiffness in my muscles, I accept the slow and steady stiffening of my cock and draw on my Fae ability to heal. Calling the energy in my blood is as easy as breathing. Using magick on Earth? Not as easy.
I focus. Send a surge of ene
rgy down my spine. Use my nerve endings to deliver the charge. Immediately, my body responds. My muscles invigorate. The soreness invading my bones fades into a dull, needy ache.
Following Harlo’s path across the giant bed, I take Dhru’s mouth with my own. I grab her neck and hold her to me while my tongue claims her as mine. Then I run my hand along Harlo’s spine, across her ass, and down to the pulsing, heated mound between her legs. Cupping her sex, but careful not to enter her—because somehow, that still feels wrong—I send a burst of energy her way.
If her pussy is anywhere near as sore as my dick, she’ll need more healing than I can give her right now. What little I give will have to do.
Harlo gasps, then moans as she presses into my palm. It’s the slow, deep kind of moan that comes with the relief of pain.
We’d both known that dragons were insatiable. But Dhru isn’t a normal dragon. And she isn’t insatiable. She’s ten thousand times more greedy, ravenous, and demanding than that. If not even a demon built for seduction and sex can keep up, what hope is there for a Fae?
Harlo’s head moves faster as she licks Dhru from asshole to clit, fingering her at the same time. Dhru moans louder. Her muscles tense. She’s close. Pulling her mouth from mine, her clouded, hungry eyes devour me. She raises her tit in one hand.
“Bite me,” she says, in full command. I play the good soldier and obey. “Hard. Don’t stop until I fill Harlo’s mouth.”
I wrap my massive hand around her tiny throat and squeeze. She likes it, and I know that cutting off blood flow, coupled with the pain of my bite, will increase the intensity of her orgasm.
If there’s one thing Dhru is all about, it’s increased intensity.
The moment I sink my teeth into her soft flesh, her body bucks. Harlo presses Dhru’s thighs wider, digging her fingers into the sensitive skin there. Dhru cries out and tangles her fingers in Harlo’s long, silky hair, forcing the demon’s face deeper between her legs. Dhru’s body vibrates. Her eyes turn amethyst before they roll back in her head.
“Fuck. Fuck!” Dhru shouts. I bite harder, to the point right before I tear flesh, and then suck on her nipple, rolling it, flicking it with my tongue.
Like a coiled spring that’s reached its limit, the tension in Dhru’s body snaps. Screams and curses, in both Faeryn and English, tumble from her lips as her wet pleasure fills Harlo’s mouth, soaking the sheets beneath her.
The sight of Dhru, mouth open, gorgeous features twisted in a display of pure, carnal pleasure, sends a rush of blood to my already thickening cock. It throbs, ready to be inside her. Ready to feel her warm, tight walls against my length. Every inch of it. Not many women have been able to handle me to the hilt. Dhru takes it all, and demands more.
Dhru’s tremors simmer into aftershocks and undulations. Like she does after every orgasm—be it mine, hers, or Dhru’s—Harlo’s body glows with white light. A shimmering halo. Testament to her half-Lightling, angelic nature.
How can the Council not know that Succubi are a result of the union between the sister queens of Hell and Samael, archangel of Seduction and Death? Maybe they just don’t want to know. Maybe the Angelic Authority doesn’t want to look too closely at their own shortcomings. They definitely don’t want to give up power. Admitting that one of their own has been fornicating with Dharklings for centuries would weaken their position, and everything in our world is about position.
Harlo’s licking slows as she harnesses the last drops of Dhru’s pleasure. Lazily, she traces the outline of Dhru’s swollen, red labia with her fingers, then blows her hot breath against Dhru’s sex before slapping it. Dhru jumps, then laughs. The sound is throaty and languid, like she’s drunk or high. Knowing Dhru, and with as much sex as we’ve had, she’s probably both.
With one final lick between Dhru’s legs, Harlo pushes to her knees. She pats her stomach like she just feasted at a high-end banquet. As a Succubus, she probably did. I have no idea how she’s harnessing the excess sexual energy we’re kicking out, or if she’ll be able to control it once we leave the room Dhru’s father enchanted to hide us. To protect the humans in the floors below, and probably all of Vegas, from instant orgasmic death.
What we’re going to do when we have to leave this room, I have no idea. But Harlo better figure it out. For Earth’s sake. For our own.
Inner Realmers can’t survive the presence of so much power and energy all at once. It’s the reason all Outer Realmers dampen their power by wearing a human disguise when we come here, and why angels, especially archangels, aren’t allowed to stay long and must remain hidden.
An overly full Destined Succubus tends to leave bodies in their wake. The inability to control his Seduction power once he became Destined is what got Harlo’s brother Mayz murdered. Or brought to justice. I don’t know anymore.
Before Dhru, the line between right and wrong was crystal clear. Rules were rules. Duty was duty. Death was a normal part of my job. Along with orders. Now?
Releasing Dhru’s throat and sore, red nipple, I sit back and stare at her. Gods, she’s so beautiful, and amazing, and maddening, and perfect. They knew what they were doing when they housed the other half of my soul inside her. Though nothing about claiming her, about claiming what’s ours, has been easy. Nor will it be from here on out. What we are, what we’ve done, is a stark middle finger to the Council. Dhru’s favorite universal symbol.
Once the truth is out, I’ll be exiled and shamed for breaking my Called oaths. My queen will demand my head, as she must. The thought of letting her down, after all the years I’ve served her, sits like a heavy weight deep inside. Being Destined herself, I can only pray she’ll understand, and that understanding will bring her solace in doing what she must. Not that I’ll let her kill me, or take me quietly, for that matter. I have my own Destined to protect. Plus a demon.
Rubbing between her legs, Dhru sighs like she’s content. I know better. The look on Harlo’s face tells me she does, too. No one knows Dhru like we do.
Sure enough, Dhru’s fingers find my cock. With her other hand, she runs her thumb along Harlo’s lips, where the evidence of her own pleasure still lingers. “I want to try something,” she says with a giggle.
Harlo and I both groan. Our gazes clash together.
“Oh, come on, you two. It’s like you’re prematurely aged grandparents. Wanting to go to bed at semi-decent hours. Demanding beauty sleep and rest.”
“Sleeping to recuperate is what people do, Dhru,” Harlo says. “Even demons, Fae, and dragons. Though not you, apparently,” she adds under her breath.
Dhru turns her charm, and the pouty face that started this all, on both of us. “I can’t help it. You’re both sexy as fuck. I want you. I want you between my legs. I want you in my mouth. I want you in my ass, between my tits, and anywhere else we can shove, lick, or stroke something.”
My cock throbs at that comment, making it swirl in the air like a waving flag. A white flag. I’ll surrender to her every single time she asks. To whatever she wants. I’ll do anything to make her happy. To give her pleasure. To protect her, worship her, be hers. Fully.
Stroking my length with her deft and capable fingers, Dhru turns her pleading gaze first on me, then on Harlo. She sighs, as if what she’s about to say is a struggle for her. I’ve never known Dhru to struggle with words. Especially curse words.
A cold, prickly chill ices my spine, stealing the warmth from our heated moment. She’s about to ask for something big. And I don’t mean my dick.
“What I want right now, more than anything . . .” Her fingers graze Harlo’s nipple, hardening it. They trail lower, and lower, pushing across her slit. It’s soaking wet from pleasuring Dhru. How could it not be? “Is for you”—she holds Harlo’s gaze, then turns her brilliant amethyst stones on me—“and you to fuck while I watch.”
“No,” Harlo and I say at the same time.
I pull away from Dhru and stand, my feet holding a fighting stance, my body reacting without thought. Harlo’s stance m
irrors my own, with a few slight variations based on training and preferred fighting styles.
We stare at each other across a bed we’ve both had more sex and orgasms in than probably anyone in the history of this realm. Orgasms we’ve shared. That have fed her abilities and drained me of mine. Not that I’m worried. I’m almost certain I could take her if I had to.
I shake my head to clear it of that thought. Wanting to kill her is a pattern. An ingrained way of thinking that doesn’t work anymore. As much as I might hate the Named, hate what they’ve done to my brethren, I won’t hurt Harlo. I can’t. Hurting her hurts Dhru, and I’d never do that to my Destined.
Our dragon throws herself from the bed with a thud and rounds on us both, pissed as hell. I swear a tiny wisp of smoke rises from her nostrils.
“Knock it the fuck off. Both of you.”
Her hands go to her hips. Hips I should be holding while I pound my need inside her. As she uses her tongue and fingers to take care of Harlo’s needs.
“What the hell is wrong with you? We’ve been fucking for three days straight—nope. Make that three days sideways. We’ve helped each other get off. Enjoyed each other getting off. You both know the ins and outs of my body, and I have to imagine you know each other’s pretty fucking well, too. I mean, hell. I’m only asking you to have sex, not make a goddamn demon-Fae baby together—”
Dhru stops short, drawing in a sharp breath. Her eyes pinch at the corners. She bites her lower lip. It’s obvious that the miscarriage she had when she still thought she was human weighs now on both her hearts. I don’t know what it’s like to lose my own child. I hope I never know.