Embracing Midnight (13 page)

Callie released a moan and arched up against him, urging him to drive his shaft deeper. Her inner muscles flexed around him, greedily drawing him in. “I won’t break,” she gasped. “Don’t be gentle.”

Obeying, Iollan began a circular motion, sheathing his cock as far as their bodies would allow. His balls slapped against her ass, ripe and full, ready to burst. “I can’t hold it much longer.”

As her desire grew, she became more demanding. “Just a little longer,” she gasped, relishing every inch of his deep penetration. Her hands clenched into fists, fighting the straps around her wrists. God, she longed to tear free and rake her fingernails down his back.

Suddenly, their positions changed.

The bonds around Callie’s wrists and ankles suddenly fell away. Lifting her up, Cadyn slid behind her as he lifted her into Iollan’s lap. She was close to climaxing when he parted her ass cheeks. Wet fingers probed her anus, then slipped inside. Callie’s clit throbbed with carnal pleasure as he wiggled his fingers inside. She gasped, releasing a soft groan.

Toryn slipped behind Iollan, kissing his neck as he held his hips. Mouth gaping open, Callie realized their intent. She and Iollan would be taken by the twins. At the same time! Never in a million years had she dreamed she’d actually watch while three beautiful males of appealing, masculine sex appeal brought each other satisfaction—all at the same time.

Glancing up she saw Toryn’s eyes narrow into two slits, while Iollan’s closed in anticipation of penetration. Toryn moaned in pleasure and slanted a quick smile at Callie.

She gulped. The idea of the four of them locked together, sweaty flesh simultaneously gliding into sweatier flesh was absolutely mesmerizing, and she found herself panting all over again with fresh arousal. “Holy shit, this is incredible.”

Cadyn’s warm breath tickled the nape of her neck. “Easy, Calista,” he whispered. “Giving pleasure to each other is one of the Niviane Idesha’s greatest joys.” His fingers pressed deeper, opening her narrow passage.

Callie cried out, not from pain but the total pleasure of the sensation. A moment later his finger slid away, replaced with the press of his cock. Her body tensed and she quivered.

“Relax.” Cadyn pushed, easing his cock up her ass. He was huge. Not big. Not impressive. Huge.

Callie felt herself open, stretch around him. She gasped as he kept inching up inside. She closed her eyes, fighting not to cry out in protest of the burning sensation filling her. His cock was like a hot iron bar. The deeper he went, the more the pain blazed.

Thighs pressing against her buttocks, Cadyn stopped, his erection buried to the hilt. His lips brushed the back of her neck. “Damn, that’s deep.”

Callie gasped out a few unintelligible words, helpless to do anything but surrender. The depth of her passion stunned her as her inner muscles involuntarily gripped his cock. She squirmed against the delicious torment. Now that she had him inside, it was more than pleasurable.

Cunt and ass completely filled, she could neither give nor take any more. She let out a loud moan, the sound starting from deep in her throat and working its way to her lips, becoming louder with every second. A long slow stream of molten heat coursed through her. Simmering on the edge of orgasm, she closed her eyes and simply enjoyed the sensations of pleasure. She was holding nothing back, demanding as much as she gave.

The sexes not only seemed to mingle, but merge. Though there was no music, they rocked together in rhythmic slow motion, as if moved by a fantasy orchestra only they heard. Their bodies moved in perfect synchronicity, forming the ideal gestalt of utter pleasure.

Deep inside her, Iollan slowed his thrusts. His hands slid under her arms, drawing her close. Pressing his mouth to the crux of her neck, he sucked gently at her skin. From behind, Cadyn claimed the other side of her neck. Two sets of teeth grazed her sensitive skin, sending a shiver down her spine. A tiny frisson of sensation coiled through her, an ache she welcomed.

“Come for us, love,” Toryn coaxed in his slumberous voice.

She shuddered violently, her lips pressed together as she struggled to make the sensations last just a moment longer. Losing control to the needs of her body, a primeval growl of pleasure broke from her throat. She came with such force, she nearly blacked out from the pure gratification. Her grunts filled the air, her body trembling from the force of orgasm. At the same time, the two cocks inside her simultaneously surged. Hot semen jetted into her depths from both sides. The powerful explosion of sensations left her weak and dizzy.

Shaking with the aftermath of her second orgasm, she floated down slowly. Iollan and Cadyn still suckled at her neck like two kittens at the teat.

Callie opened sleep eyes, glancing at Toryn. He nuzzled at his brother’s neck. Then, as if sensing her gaze, he slowly lifted his head. The low, undomesticated growl of an animal emanated from his throat. Before her eyes, his face grew contorted, shifting and rearranging in a glowing haze. Seconds later he smiled, baring his teeth. Only they were no longer human teeth. They’d changed.

Callie’s heart lodged in her throat. Fangs. He had fangs. Two sets of canines on top, one set on the bottom. Six of the sharpest fucking teeth she’d seen in her entire life.

Toryn’s face filled her vision. The power he radiated enveloped her, kept her silent as blood pumped through her veins, filling her with adrenaline. He gave a devilish grin. “All the better to taste you with, my dear.”

Two sets of fangs penetrated and her world spun. A spark of pure electricity traveled straight down her spine as a swell of exquisite pain swamped her. Drawn into the heart of a luminescent corona of heat and light, images of the three men twisted in her mind, dizzying her with a series of swirling and sparking tides. She collided with their light, their heat. An exciting, wicked warmth filled her, penetrating her most secret places. Her blood thrummed through her veins, pressing furiously for release.

Oh, God, if only the ache would ease….

C
allie fought against the snare of sleep refusing to let go of her addled brain. No matter how many times her body shifted, she couldn’t seem to get comfortable.

The pain, damn it.

Lost in the strange fog between waking and sleep, she rolled, trying to curl up into a more comfortable position. Some unbreakable object prevented the move. Muttering incoherently, she shifted again. A sharp edge scraped along her ribs. The unexpected sting of fresh pain propelled her back toward the waking world. The fragile mesh of consciousness reattached itself within her brain. Time sped up. The strange disturbing visions haunting her dreams slowly faded.

She woke with a start. Pain pummeled her head, and to a lesser extent throughout her body. Her world spun in dizzy circles.

She hurt. Bad.

Eyes little more than narrow slits, she grimaced, trying to swallow. Temples pounding double time, she felt her heart pump shards of ice through her veins. Deep inside, she felt chilled despite the fever raging through her. A curious numbness spread through her.

Half-conscious, weak to the bone, she shifted her head, trying to make out her surroundings. The effort of movement forced a gasp from her lips. She lay, panting, the chill creeping up her legs and spine. The pain in her skull danced a jig, throbbing in time to a lingering beat hovering on the edge of her hearing. Even her eyeballs ached, the sensation akin to a thousand tiny needles being driven into her nerves.

She blinked, staring dizzily around, trying to get a bearing on her whereabouts. As far as she could tell, she was alone, lying battered amid a great pile of charred wreckage. The sharp but not unpleasant pungency of burned wood tickled her nostrils.

How or why she’d arrived in such a place, she had no idea. A hazy gray veil of nothingness hung right in the center of her brain, cutting off all memory of her recent activities.

She struggled to rise. Sheer will and determination moved her. Managing to ease herself into an upright position, she discovered the source of some of her agony. She’d been lying on a pile of debris. Realizing what it was, she cast a wary glance toward the ceiling. The roof looked none too stable. Many of its sagging spots appeared to be nearing collapse at any second.

“Where am I?”

No answer. The silence took great delight in scoffing at her. In her dazed state it seemed to her this place had looked different once, yet she recognized nothing tangible in the ruins. Sunlight filtered in through gouged-out doors and windows. The skeletal remains of furniture were scattered throughout, little more than twisted metal frames. Gaping cracks were visible in the scorched walls, giving the impression the exterior was being torn apart by giant phantom hands.

The atmosphere of the place was stifled, quiet and eerie, as though a part of some alien world. She didn’t know where she was or why, and that frightened her. Whether it was premonition or self-preserving instinct, all warning signs were pointing the same way. She was in deep trouble.

A fierce churning sensation caused her guts to clench in agony. She was going to be very ill. Barely able to get onto her hands and knees, she vomited, managing to catch her breath before another body-wrecking spasm struck. Nothing came up except putrid yellow strings of bile. She gagged until dry heaves set in and a raging thirst clawed at her throat. Mouth bone dry, she wished for a cool drink of water. Not that there was any chance of getting one now. By the looks of it, the facilities were definitely shut down, probably never to reopen.

Waking up without caffeine and sugar was a bitch. Wiping chapped lips, Callie sat back on her knees. The room around her bobbed and weaved in an alarming manner. Her skin was hot, burning with fever. Her hair hung in limp strands, plastered to her forehead by perspiration. Her limbs felt like noodles. She gulped, trying to keep from falling into a dead faint. Huge blurry spots rose up before her eyes, threatening to merge into one big ugly abyss.

A painful sensation began to work its way up her spine. Traveling her shoulders, it snaked through the back of her neck and straight into her skull. She felt the air around her shift, the pressure on her lungs robbing her of breath. A chilling sweat drenched her, giving rise to a foul odor that assailed her senses.
Fear.
Her little demon had grown into a giant, knocking at the doors of her mind with ferocious insistence.

Don’t let it in.

Her training kicked in. Panic would weaken her to a potentially fatal degree. Keeping cool, keeping calm, would get her out of this place faster than blind fear.

She crouched, silent and motionless as a fresh wave of nausea rippled through her. The room was spinning. Body cold and soaked in sweat, she squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the surge of sickness. “I can’t pass out,” she gasped. Trying to jump-start her groggy self, she slapped at her cheeks. All she wanted to do was curl up in a tiny ball and die.

Not the way to think at all. Stubbornly, she shook her head. “I have to stay awake.”

And then she noticed. She had no clothes on.

Oh, shit.

Something bad had happened. The specter of rape rose in her mind as she struggled to her feet. To her relief a pile of clothing lay a few feet away. She staggered over. Tears of relief stung her eyes when she recognized them as her own. Thank heavens.

Aching and barely erect, she struggled to dress. She’d never have thought such a simple act would become so difficult. Miserably frustrated, she tried to move her numb fingers, but they refused to cooperate. Getting into her jeans proved to be a task she almost didn’t complete. She had to sit down to slip them on, then move up to her knees to finish pulling them up. Her socks were easy enough to pull on, but the laces of her motorcycle boots defied her. She left them undone, hoping she wouldn’t trip and break her neck on the way out. Dying, alone in this deserted place, wasn’t an appealing thought.

Heavy and suffocating, the silence surrounding her chewed ceaselessly at her imagination, stoking it at the same time. Her throat was dry, and her breath came in choking gasps. Her heart skipped a beat. She pricked up her ears, attuned to any sound. She had to make a decision, find a way to go.

Breath rasping over raw lips, she stood up. Her legs shook but held her weight. She took a step forward, then another. As her boots shuffled over the remnants of some tattered carpeting, she imagined she heard a whisper. She stopped dead, cocking her head. Listening.

All at once, the room wasn’t so peaceful or calm. The temperature dropped significantly as a chilly breeze winnowed around her, whistling among the wreckage. A grating voice sounded around her.
Calista.

It was an illusion, of course.

Unease gnawing at her guts, Callie shivered. “Knock it off,” she muttered, chastising her imagination.

She started to walk again, closing the distance between herself and what she hoped was the nearest exit. She’d taken no more than ten steps when an unexpected force, invisible to her, gave her a push. Caught by surprise, she staggered, nearly knocked back on her ass. A shadow whizzed past her, no more than a blur to her eyes.

“Shit!”

The voice spoke again, this time clearly and much more audible.
Stay, Calista.

She shook at the sound of her name on invisible lips. Fighting for composure, she closed her eyes and tried to suppress the tremor shimmying down her spine. As if gripped in the clutch of some invisible force, she stood rooted to her spot, not moving a muscle. Bruised, exhausted, surging with pain, her breath caught. Closing her eyes her awareness was stretched to the breaking point. She experienced again that strange tentative in-reaching of contact, as if something was trying to directly enter her mind.

I’m here. Waiting.
The drone of the words became an oddly echoing chant that seemed to sound not in her ears, but inside her own skull. Some inner instinct warned her she wasn’t alone.

“Where? I don’t see you,” she called, wavering violently. Voice tight with emotion, she felt every nerve in her body scream with tension. “This isn’t funny.”

The strange breeze immediately vanished. The stillness surrounding her became a heavy, suffocating cloak, so weighty it took all her willpower not to sink to her knees. Something wasn’t right. Something had wanted her, had brought her here, for a purpose.

Feeling as though she’d disintegrate, Callie bowed her head. She massaged the ache in her temples, feeling the pulse there under her fingertips. Was she losing her mind? Gritting her teeth, she shook her head. Control threatened to slip through her fingers.

Look
, the voice said.

Callie froze. Her heart clogged her throat as a giant’s hand squeezed her windpipe. A whimper escaped her lips, and she glanced around. A flicker of movement caught her attention out of the corner of her eye, little more than a wisp of shadow. She turned, but there was no one there.

A strangled cry of frustration and fear escaped her. Confused and frightened, she ran her hands through her disheveled hair, then clenched them into tight fists. The room seemed to be spinning in slow circles around her. Her lips trembled. “Look at what?” she groaned in frustration.

Something pushed past her from behind, streaking by so fast all she caught was a smudge of darkness. Maybe the size of a large rodent, though lacking such a discernable form, the shadowy thing darted toward a rear wall. It came to a rest, hovering perhaps three feet above the ground.

Callie’s eyes narrowed, then widened in recognition. Her thoughts skittered away like a frightened kitten, but she knew she had to fight to overcome her fear and disbelief.

She forced herself to stay calm. Staying in control was strictly up to her. That was an agent’s job, hanging on to self-discipline when everything else was falling apart.
Concentrate
.

Barely aware she was in motion, she walked toward the thing. The strange entity vanished as she approached, zipping out of sight before she was even sure it had gone.

She blinked, puzzled by the attraction. Though fire had earlier gutted most of the place, the flames had only licked at this wall. Remnants of wallpaper, patterned in red and green, still clung to the plaster. Recognizing it, her whole body started to shake. The silence around her felt charged with electricity. Hand trembling, she reached out. Her fingers trailed its pattern, sapped of its vibrancy but still recognizable.

Callie shivered. For an instant her mind merged with the past as the shackles holding her memory prisoner fell away. The gray veil parted a little, thinning. Bright lights and crawling colors wriggled through her brain, merging together to form a new picture. Accompanied by a slow prickle of wonder the decay around her seemed to fade, turning into something breathtakingly beautiful. She shut her eyes to better visualize the place. It came, the splendor of sight, sound, and colors slowly seeping back. The picture wasn’t complete, but at least she knew why she was in this place now.

The grayness curling around her brain receded a bit. Her eyelids fluttered shut. A soft moan escaped her lips. For a moment her sense of reality vanished and she found herself in another place. Lying on a canopied bed, naked, awaiting the illuminated angels representing a magical realm existing everywhere around her…

Toryn and Cadyn. The twins.

And Iollan.

Her mouth filled with their taste, her nostrils with their scent. How could she forget their tease, their bite? The way they’d slipped inside a depth longing to be filled, then out again—only to return with a deeper plunge. Claiming. Binding. Nibbling.

A fit of unexpected quaking overtook her. Her spine turned to icy water. One hand rose to her neck, pressing her fingers against her skin. She remembered sharp fangs and a sharper bite.

Her forehead ridged, the folds growing deeper as her animosity toward her abductors intensified. Images filtered through her mind, tugging her back to the vicious events.

Clearer now.

She could see them.

Feel them.

Callie felt her blood pressure drop, the air in her lungs becoming a deep, heavy weight in her chest, a crushing sensation. She felt dazed and sick. Her mouth moved a little as she struggled with strong emotions.

“Blood,” she murmured, for an instant feeling an inner surge of revulsion. A slew of images ravaged her feverish brain. Jesus Christ. Had they really drunk her blood?

Sick bastards.

An odor assailed her nostrils, one she too well recognized. The smell of fear. A palpable thing, more sour than the bile rising at the back of her throat. Her fear was a specter, mocking, laughing, a leering death mask.

The realization disturbed the precarious control she held over her mind and body; the surging disparity left her alarmed. Without knowing quite why, hysterical laughter bubbled up in her throat. She was almost physically sick with the knowledge that she’d been used and discarded like so much trash.