Girl from Jussara (11 page)

“We’ll find a way.” Alcaeus tongue swept his full lower lip, his hungry eyes consuming me. “I need to have her. More than once. In every manner and position her little human body can handle.”

I realized I’d resumed clutching Remy’s hand in a death grip when I felt him give mine a reassuring squeeze and heard him murmur, “Easy, honey … you’re okay.”

My brain spun out and stalled, at a loss as to what or whom I should rationally be clinging to now for protection.

“She doesn’t talk much,” Alcaeus observed.

“Al, her heart rate just shifted into hyperdrive. Maybe you should go pile-drive some bitches in heat out in the gardens and come back when you’re more in control? ’Cause you’re scaring the fuck out of her right now.”

Alcaeus grinned, displaying an enviable set of white teeth. As attractive a smile as it may have been, if anything it made him appear more intimidating and predatory to me.

“Aw, look at that, she’s a blusher,” he said, regarding me much like one might a newborn puppy or some other cute novelty. It was altogether demeaning! Although not, it turned out, as degrading as his next comment proved to be.

“Fuck, I wanna see her blushing with my cock in her mouth.”

My jaw fell open in horror.

“Not the time, Al,” Remy cough-chided.
“Head injury.”

Alcaeus groaned and bit his lower lip, inhaling deeply through his nostrils and murmuring “fuuck” as he fondle-adjusted the bulge at the front of his slacks.

“Smell that?” He smirked triumphantly, his eyes darting to Remy and then back to me where they burned a painstakingly slow path down my body, finally settling at the apex of my thighs. “I might be scaring her,” he said, wagging his eyebrows, “but I also just made her cream her shorts.”

Eyes swimming with mischief and dark desire locked on mine as he goaded crassly, “Oh, I think she definitely wants me to fuck her throat.”

Frantically, I shook my head, even though it hurt my throbbing cranium to do so. My nails dug mercilessly into Remy’s hand.

“It’s okay, Milena,” Remy said tightly, patting the top of my hands with his free palm. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

“Hurt her?” Alcaeus huge body flopped down onto the other side of the daybed next to me, causing it to rock and creak.

I caught my breath and held it as Alcaeus turned his full attention to me. Crude and frightening as I found him to be, there was a fiercely raw sexuality and unbridled masculinity about him that was magnetic.

“Fuck no,” he swore, his eyes locking earnestly with mine as I tried to subtly huddle in closer to Remy’s side. “Though I do like to tease,” he said, reaching out to brush his warm knuckles over my cheekbone.

The gesture was tender, his touch surprisingly gentle. I took quick, panting breaths while he repeated the motion, again and again, his eyes reading mine as if to probe the very depths of my soul.

“I enjoy pushing limits and boundaries,” he expounded with a wink. “And yes,” he admitted, his smirk widening into another devilish grin, “perhaps I do indulge in bestowing a little necessary pain now and again.” I swallowed audibly and heard Remy chuckle against my ear. “To those who enjoy it,” Alcaeus clarified.

“But I’ve no desire whatsoever to do you true harm, little girl,” he avowed, shaking his head as his pointer finger ghosted over the inside of my slightly parted, flushed lips. “Those aren’t the kind of screams I’d prefer pulling from this sweet mouth.”

I was speechless. Breathless. My eyes darted back and forth as both of them gazed heatedly down at me.

“She likes me. Admit it.”

“Please,” Remy dismissed, “I was making her wet before you even got here. I warmed her up for you.”

“Maybe”—Alcaeus shrugged—“but I just blew the fucking lid off all of the sexual possibilities her innocent young human mind had ever contemplated before.”

“You give humans too little credit.”

“Says the one who only keeps them as pets.”

“It wouldn’t be the same with her.”

“Whatever. You don’t know any different when it comes to them.”

“Says the one who hasn’t banged one in half a century?”

“Just leave me alone with her right now,” Alcaeus challenged, “and I’ll have her so hot and eager for me she’ll be begging me to fuck her in any and every hole I want to within ten minutes.”

“Oh, fuck off!”

“With
no
compulsion. No enthrallment.”

“She’s
mine!”
Remy insisted.

“Ten minutes,” Alcaeus taunted.

“I’d have her begging in five!” Remy exploded in retort.

A conspiratorial look passed between them over my heated face as my heart raced out of control. It was so brief I almost didn’t catch it. But instinct belatedly told me I should not have let my guard down with either of them for even a second as Remy’s mouth descended to my earlobe, sending my stomach into somersaults.

“But first, we’re going to heal you,” Alcaeus informed me in an authoritative tone that allowed no refusal.

***

My experience with the opposite sex was limited to kissing and minor groping. Nothing I’d done with the handful of high school boys I’d fooled around with could’ve prepared me for the overwhelming sensations Remy and Alcaeus stirred in me as their dual seduction catapulted my senses into a state of overload.

Remy’s tongue laved my neck as his fingers traced slow circles across my midsection beneath my tank top. Alcaeus shifted his body lower and commenced kissing and licking at the scrapes and minor contusions surrounding and covering my knees, prompting an uncontrolled fluttering of nerves to ignite in my lower belly.

It should have disgusted me—the fact that a stranger was licking my wounds; but the way Alcaeus did it with such besotted enthusiasm was inexplicably arousing, and I soon found myself emitting peculiar mewling noises and panting for air in a rather unsophisticated, embarrassing fashion.

Tingles spread through me wherever they both touched me. My brain all but shut down. Perversely, the fact that I still had to pee seemed to intensify the delicious throbbing sensation awakening in my sex as I contracted my Kegel muscles.

Remy’s mouth diligently lapped, kissed, and sucked its way over every inch of skin covering my neck and jawline, while his palm and fingers warmed and caressed my stomach in a proprietary manner my malfunctioning brain found foolishly soothing.

Alcaeus’ hands trailed up and down the length of my bare legs as his mouth tended to my now-trembling knees. His short growth of facial hair tickled my skin as he swirled his long, somewhat rough-textured tongue over me in a manner that made me want to scrape my knees every day.

Groaning and muttering expletives, Alcaeus went on and on about how “
fuucking
good” I smelled, before proceeding to whisper things in Portuguese that I suspected could only be scandalously licentious in content.

I could scarcely rationalize this entire night much less fathom an explanation for their fixation with smelling me or their bizarre determination to literally lick my wounds. And as depraved the notion of two men touching me at once was to my Catholic schoolgirl sensibilities, strangely, I felt no sense of immediate threat or panic. Instead, I was overcome by an irrational, innate drive to relax and trust them.

Perhaps it was the measured, practiced way they were handling me that was reassuring. There was none of the aggressive, impatient underlying energy I’d sensed during the few encounters I’d had with boys my own age.

I should’ve been alarmed at the sensation of four large, male hands roaming my body, two mouths intimately exploring me. Yet their touch remained deliberate and restrained. They made no attempt to fondle my breasts, and never once did caressing fingertips venture too close to the pressing ache unfurling between my thighs.

Remy and Alcaeus both seemed completely in control of themselves. And somehow their firmly held self-control spawned the inverse reaction in me, prompting me to cast my self-restraint and better judgment aside.

My fingers wound their way into Remy’s hair, clutching and pulling at the roots in an artless, mindless attempt to draw his mouth, which was blazing a path along my jawline, to my lips. Like Alcaeus, Remy had also begun crooning to me in another language. I decided it was French.

When Remy at last acceded to my silent, tugging pleas and lifted his face to mine, I tilted my head, wantonly angling for his lips.

I closed my eyes and felt the heat of Remy’s lips. Sweet breath laced with the scent of brandy teased my mouth, just as Alcaeus latched onto a particularly sensitive expanse of skin on my inner thigh above my right knee.
Oh. My God.

Remy’s kiss never came, though—at least not to my lips. His nose traced up and over my hairline as his lips ghosted back and forth across my forehead, then brushed over my eyelids. His lips were so soft as they branded my skin, sensing and learning each feature, every angle and contour of my face.

Caught up in the anticipation of his kiss, I found myself shamelessly re-slanting and re-tipping my head expectantly to him again and again, as he strung me along with each tantalizing, brief press of his lips. I was so distracted I hardly noticed it when my head began to buzz with a dull ache and my thoughts grew hazy and erratic.

Then a tingling sensation ran down the back of my neck, traveled along the length of my spine, and coursed out in all directions. I felt warmth embrace my midsection, first tickling up and down, then shooting back and forth across my lower ribs.

It was a wholly unnatural sensation, as if my very bones were being caressed and stroked from the inside. As good as it felt, it was abnormal enough to give me pause.

It became increasingly difficult to ponder this odd phenomenon, though, as I started losing grasp of my own train of thought. It was almost as if my thoughts were being guided—or redirected. And I had to focus harder and harder in order to hold onto them, to draw them back in from their stubborn divergence.

“Relax,”
Alcaeus’ velvet bass commanded against my inner knee. “We’ve got you.” His tongue swirled higher up the inside of my thigh. “Let go, honey.”

It was so tempting to do as he suggested. I wanted to; but I couldn’t. Something was off, and I didn’t like it.

Apprehension twisted through me, and I soon lost track of and stopped caring where Remy’s lips were or weren’t touching me as it occurred to me that something sinister and untoward was happening inside of me.

“Stop,”
Remy said. His lips grazed the corner of my mouth, momentarily drawing me back in. “Please?” He brushed those burning lips at long last back and forth against mine. “Everything’s okay. Promise.”

I wanted nothing more in the world in that moment than for Remy’s words to be true—especially when he commenced nibbling and sucking on my lower lip in the most erotic, sensual prelude to a kiss I’d ever imagined. But just as I felt on the verge of losing consciousness altogether, Felix’s bizarre, dire warning came back to me, urging me to fight harder against the strange force enveloping my mind.

“Christ, just fucking tongue her already!” Alcaeus groused impatiently at Remy, lifting his head from my legs.

“Milena, please,” Remy’s lips entreated against my own. “I promise you’re safe.”

But my hands that were fisted in his hair had already begun pulling and yanking at his roots again, only this time in an attempt to draw him away from me. Intuitively, I sensed he’d snuck deeper inside my head than the last time. I feared Alcaeus had as well.
And I panicked.

Then it really started to hurt. I cried out as pain knifed through my head in multiple directions.

“Fuck, stop fighting it,” Alcaeus admonished. He had moved up from my knees and was disentangling my fists from Remy’s hair. “It doesn’t have to hurt like this.” He pinned my wrists above my head with one of his hands when I increased my struggling.

“Stop!” I wailed as the pain intensified. “Get out of my head!” I thrashed my head from side to side, as if the action alone might shake them from my mind.

Remy recaptured and immobilized my face between his hands. “Milena, listen to me.” He tilted my head so that I was forced to look into his iridescent green eyes inches above me. “Just let us heal your injuries, and then I promise you we’ll get out of your head.”

He looked so concerned, so sincere. Somehow it made the pain in my head worse—and this whole unholy scene that was unfolding that much more devastating to my psyche.

“No!
Stop
… just please, stop!”

Alcaeus protested that they wanted to heal me—they didn’t want to hurt me at all. But I shut my eyes and did my best to block out their words as I focused all of my energy and attention inward.

It felt like the worst migraine of my life times ten. I didn’t understand what I was doing or how I was able to fight against their intrusion; I only knew I couldn’t give up and give in to this unwelcome mind invasion. I zeroed in as best I could on the energy source behind the worst of the pain and channeled all of my effort into pushing against it.

“Fuck. Fuck, she shouldn’t be able to do this!” Alcaeus exclaimed. “Something’s not right; this isn’t normal human resistance.”

“Told you.”

Encouraged by their reaction, I redoubled my efforts.

“Milena, stop it,” Remy demanded, his voice taking on that imperious quality he’d used before with the unseen woman Jussara.

I fought with everything I had then, and the resulting pain was positively blinding. It felt like my head had just caught fire from the inside. I screamed bloody murder, unable to help myself.

“
ENOUGH!
” Alcaeus bellowed in an even scarier commanding tone than the one Remy had used, sending shivers down my spine.

To my complete shock and ultimate gratitude, though, I realized he hadn’t directed the order at me, when my wrists were released and the pain in my head abruptly ceased. I opened my eyes in time to see Remy go flying from my side clear off the daybed.

While I caught my breath and tried to regain my composure, I gazed, astounded, up at Alcaeus, who was standing by the daybed to my right glowering murderously. A quick glance to my left across the room revealed a laughing Remy, the recipient of his ire.