Authors: Angela Knight
Then Beau began to enter. An enormous burning pressure, forcing my delicate tissues to spread. He sent me another image—the sight of my asshole flowering open around the rapacious head of his prick. Wider and wider, straining to take him. I arched my back at the pain of his entry—and felt how it felt to him, deliciously tight, clamping over the sensitive tip, yielding slowly as he forced his cock inside, inch by slow, torturous inch. I writhed, overwhelmed by the mix of sensations, his and my own and Decker’s.
The two men could feel their cocks sliding past each other through the thin membrane separating my cunt and my ass, the stimulation hot and wicked and alien, a dark, nasty pleasure. I released my cheeks and grabbed desperately for Decker’s muscled torso, holding on, a whine forcing its way past my teeth. Stuffed, utterly stuffed with cock, overwhelmed and helpless. I made a pleading sound.
Decker reached a big hand down between our bodies and found my clit with his thumb, caressing it gently as Beau completed my impalement.
Finally both men were in to the balls. I threw back my head and keened.
“Shhhhh,” Decker whispered, and started squeezing and rolling my nipples with one hand as he stroked my clit with the other. At the same time, Beau eased out almost to the head. I braced myself over Decker, leaning forward just enough to give him room to move. He pulled out gently just as Beau pushed inside.
Then, slowly, ruthlessly, they began to fuck me.
I had never felt anything like it. It seemed my entire being was focused between my legs, on my cunt and asshole being conquered by those two huge cocks. And Decker’s hands, coaxing pleasure from my overloaded nervous system, strumming and stroking nipple and clit. I could feel Beau’s body covering mine with his hard muscled strength, his powerful arms brushing mine as he rolled his hips, his shaft tormenting my anal tube with every stroke, even as Decker’s cock massaged my cream-filled cunt.
By slow degrees, pleasure began to grow through the pain of their possession. I could feel their hot male enjoyment of me, of my tight, slick body, of my soft skin and full tits. So small, so helpless between them, so lush and female as they plundered me.
Their lust stoked mine, until I began to move under them, feeling one nipple brushing Decker’s chest while he squeezed the other. Teeth clamped in my lip, I made short little thrusts back and forth between them. The pleasure grew, in my cunt, in my clit, in my ravaged asshole, spurring me on. Until I felt ravenous for the next delicious double stroke, the next twist of my flesh between those two big shafts. The men picked up the pace, stroking harder, Decker’s thumb rubbing my clit, spiking the pleasure higher.
Finally I found myself grinding hard against Beau’s hips, taking his cock all the way up my ass, then jolting forward to feel Deck drive to my depths. Growling as they growled, lust burning me until I felt mad with it, wanting more, wanting it all, back and forth and in and out and. . . .
I screamed as the orgasm shot through me in a river of fire, scalding every synapse. “Oh, GOD!”
“Yeah!” Beau rammed all the way in, up to the balls, jolting me forward onto Decker’s cock. Doubly impaled, I shook, only dimly aware of Beau’s roar of triumph, of Decker’s gasping groan as my orgasm triggered theirs in a psychic cascade of pleasure. I felt both hard cocks jolting, shooting my ass and cunt full of come. My climax surged higher and higher until it seemed my senses couldn’t take any more of the overwhelming explosion.
Until it all went black.
* * *
I
woke sandwiched between them. “Beau?” I groaned, wiggling. He lay over me like a hot, heavy blanket. “Decker?”
Neither answered. Looking into Deck’s face, I saw his eyes were closed, his breathing deep. Twisting my head around, I saw Beau’s face. His head rested on my shoulder, eyes closed.
“Hey, guys?” Damn. Both of them were out cold. I stirred, my body’s aches making themselves known with a vengeance. Groaning, I rolled Beau’s heavy body off mine, wincing as his cock slipped free of my ass. He collapsed beside Decker.
Sitting back on my heels, I gazed at the deliciously naked men and frowned. Something was wrong here. They should not be sleeping like this.
Oh, hell. Copperstone’s spell. It must have been designed to put them out after they were through with me. Leaving them helpless.
Damn. The little shit had something in mind. I rolled off the bed and looked for my dress. Finding it in a corner, I scooped it off the floor and shrugged into it, suspecting I did not have much time. He’d be back any moment.
I was lucky he hadn’t bothered to include me in his sleep spell; apparently he didn’t consider me a threat. Just another piece of ass, like Lynn. Something to be tormented.
He was about to find out how wrong he was.
I took a moment to clean up in Copperstone’s bathroom. Just as I threw down the washcloth, I heard the rumble of an approaching car engine. I flew to the window and looked out.
As I watched, Copperstone got out of his Honda Accord. He’d changed out of his robe into black trousers and a shirt. And in his hands was a crossbow. A quiver filled with wooden bolts rode across his shoulders. I knew he meant to stake all three of us as the boys slept.
“Oh no you don’t, you little fuck!” I snarled. Whirling, I made for the stairs.
I was waiting when he opened the door. It was dark in the house, and Copperstone’s merely human eyes didn’t see me as I crouched beside the door.
With a soundless growl, I pounced, wrapping one hand around his mouth, my fingers digging into his jaw so hard he grunted in pain.
After watching him in action, I knew the way to keep him from using his magic was to keep him from talking.
“You even try to say a spell, and I’ll rip your fucking head off,” I snarled in his ear, jerking him to his knees. He tried to kick back at me, so I straddled his back and gripped his hips between my thighs, bearing down until he yelped. “Thought you said you wouldn’t mind being between my legs.” I squeezed again. He groaned. “It’s like I learned today—you really should be careful what you wish for.”
I pulled his head to one side, arching his throat. He stiffened, knowing what I intended. “Now, listen up, schmuck, while I tell you what we’re going to do. First. . . .” I ran my tongue over the banging pulse in his throat. “. . . I’m going to have a little bite. Then we’re going to discuss how you will never, ever hurt anybody again. You’ll never stalk anybody, you’ll never rape anybody, and you sure as hell will never turn anybody into werewolves.” I paused to rake him with my fangs, just barely drawing blood. The taste was delicious. “Then we’ll go upstairs and break that sleep spell you put on the boys. If you’re very, very good, I’ll even convince them not to kill you. Got that?”
He gave a defeated whimper and went limp in my arms. I pulled him up into a more comfortable position—for me—and sank my fangs right into his pulse.
* * *
T
he bite allowed me to establish a mind link with him, which I used to make sure he’d be a good little wizard from now on. Then we woke the guys, who definitely were not happy with him. Both felt incredibly guilty about how close they came to forcing me, and they held Copperstone responsible. It took some fancy verbal footwork on my part to talk them out of killing him.
It helped that, guilt notwithstanding, the sex had been pretty damn outstanding.
I’d love to try it again, only this time without the guys being under the influence. I’ve been trying to talk them into it. Both of them have rejected the idea every time I’ve brought it up, loudly and with great enthusiasm. After all, they still hate each other’s guts.
But, you know—I think they’re tempted.
And temptation is one of my best things.
June 4, 2459 AD
W
hen Captain Julian Bender started climbing the cliff, he fully intended to cut the sniper’s throat. Assuming it had one, of course.
Firing from concealment behind several boulders at the top of the mountain, the alien son of a bitch had picked off half a dozen of Bender’s allies with well-placed blasts of a Beamer rifle. Since the Jeranth weren’t exactly built for stealthy cliff scaling—what with their six legs and massive bodies—it fell to Julian and his crew to go up after the shooter and stop him.
Once that was done, they should be able to wrap this up and get the hell off this planet fairly quickly.
God
, said Dominic telepathically, bitching as usual,
I’ll be glad to
put this ball of rock behind us. I’m sick of synthblood. I can’t wait to drink from something that squirms
.
Julian didn’t answer, too busy digging his fingers into a handhold on the cliff face. Besides, they’d had this conversation before. It had been months since any of them had even seen a woman, and they were all eager to return to human space. They hadn’t had a decent meal since they’d left.
Synthetic blood might keep a vampire alive, but it didn’t wrap its legs around you while you fed. And it didn’t come when you took it, pumping hot energy into your mind.
If the ship hadn’t been so badly damaged, Julian would never have agreed to take this mission so far from human space. But they’d needed the money for repairs, and the Jeranth paid exceptionally well. Even among aliens, vampire mercenaries were renowned for their sabotage and assassination skills, and the Jeranth general had wanted their services badly. With the money he’d paid, Julian had been able to get the ship repaired in record time.
Unfortunately, Julian and his men then had to earn that money by spending six months out here on this godforsaken rock, among aliens so alien even their emotions tasted wrong.
In the act of reaching for another handhold, Julian stopped dead, his mind picking up a stray psychic wash from the sniper.
Despair. Grief. Rage.
But not the alien versions of those feelings they’d come to know so well from the minds of their T’tcha Ker enemies.
Automatically, Julian glanced over and met his second-in-command’s wide brown eyes. Clinging to the rock face, André lifted his brows and projected his thoughts:
Captain, our sniper’s human
.
Hell, Julian,
thought Dominic.
It’s not just a human. It’s a woman
.
As one, they all looked up the moonlight-washed cliff.
And grinned.
* * *
S
he was going to die today. Verica Sher aimed her rifle down at the detachment of Jeranth in the valley below and fired off another blast. Her alien target staggered and fell, all six legs waving in the moonlight. Her weapon vibrated between her hands, a signal it was running out of charge. And when the last of its energy was gone . . .
It would be over. Over for her, as it was for all the other members of T’tcha Ker who had been picked off one by one fighting this interminable war. Verica forced her mind away from that thought, forced herself to ignore the aching grief. It had been twelve years since her father had dragged her out here, as far from human space—and her mother—as he could get. To support them, Jonas Sher had joined the T’tcha Ker’s mercenary unit, only to get himself killed five years later. Though the big, furry tripeds hadn’t been even remotely human, they’d taken her in, trained her to fight and treated her with love and respect.
Now they were all gone. Gruff Itka and motherly Ch’fa and Garsh, her best friend, all dead, killed in this disastrous battle. And once her rifle’s charge was drained, she’d be dead too, so far from human space the beings who’d kill her wouldn’t even know what species she was. But in the meantime, she was going to take as many of the enemy with her as she could. Verica Sher would not die alone.
* * *
P
lucky little thing, isn’t she?
André asked, watching the girl draw a bead on the aliens below.
A little too plucky,
Julian thought.
She’s got maybe two blasts left
in that rifle, and I don’t want her using one of them on herself
.
And she might, if she realized she was about to be captured by vampires. Some vamp mercenaries had such dark reputations most women would do anything to avoid falling into their hands.
It was a different story with humans who realized they were dealing with Julian. The mercenary community was a relatively small one, and everyone knew he didn’t abuse prisoners. True, female captives expected to end up on the menu, but there were enough titillating rumors going around that they were usually less alarmed by the prospect than intrigued.
Some of Julian’s former victims had evidently done a little breathless gloating.
It also helped that the old myth about vampires draining their victims had died a well-deserved death. Vamps just didn’t need that much blood—no more than half a liter or so, less if they could get a good psychic charge from their partner.
Like orgasm.
But there was no guarantee this girl would realize she was in danger of nothing worse than hot sex from her captors. And Julian didn’t want her jumping the gun.
For one thing, it would be a waste. He couldn’t see much of her, since she was lying on her belly with her back to them—they’d come up the cliff on the opposite side and slipped up behind her. But she filled out her blue unisuit nicely, between her narrow waist, long legs, and the lovely, sweetly rounded ass Julian badly wanted to explore. Plus, he liked the way her long blonde hair shimmered in the moonlight.
Just then she hit the trigger pad on her rifle again . . . and nothing happened.
Well, gentlemen,
thought Dominic
,
turning to smirk at his fellow vampires with wolfish hunger,
I think I just heard the dinner bell.
* * *
S
hit,” Verica growled, cursing her weapon in the Terran Standard of her childhood as her stomach sank like a stone. It was over. She was finished.
“Rifle gone dead?” a human voice asked in the same language. “Tough luck.”
With a gasp, Verica jerked around to face the man who’d taken her so thoroughly by surprise.
He must have come up the other side of the cliff
, she thought wildly, looking up at the first human she’d seen in seven years.
Big. Much bigger than her father. And handsome, like the actors on Jonas’s collection of pornographic vids—dark, amused eyes set in a sculpted, angular face with a sensuous mouth and short-cropped black hair. Too bad he wore the enemy’s colors on his black unisuit. And it was a safe bet the rifle he held so casually was fully charged.
“Don’t you think it’s time you surrendered?” he asked, his tone polite and interested.
Verica threw herself into a roll that carried her away from the edge of the cliff and gave her room to bounce to her feet. As soon as she got her legs under her, she swung the dead rifle like a club, right at her enemy’s dark head. “The T’tcha Ker do not surrender!”
The weapon slapped into a casually lifted palm. His jerk ripped it from her hands so hard her arm muscles screeched in protest. Moving deliberately as she gaped at his strength, the human swung his own rifle by its strap across his back, out of the way. “You’re not T’tcha Ker, girl. Or hadn’t you noticed?” He tossed her Beamer over the cliff edge.
She leaped forward into a hand-to-hand attack, throwing punches and kicks with every ounce of her strength. He blocked each blow with insulting ease, his big hands blurring to knock her fists and feet away.
“You know, she’s pretty good,” another male voice said.
“If he were mortal, he’d probably have his hands full,” another agreed.
Jesus, there were more of them. Verica darted a look in toward the source of the voices. Two men watched her hopeless struggle, both almost as big and handsome as her opponent, one blond, the other with the darkest skin she’d ever seen. The dark one crouched casually on top of an enormous boulder higher than his head, while his companion leaned against it.
With a defiant snarl, she snapped to face her foe and swung her booted foot in a high, hard kick at his head. He caught her ankle. Shocked at his speed, she just stood there for an instant, balanced on one foot as he gripped the other. Then another pair of powerful hands clamped around her shoulders. It dawned on her she was well and truly caught.
“I’m Captain Julian Bender,” her enemy said. “And I really think it’s time you gave up, don’t you?”
But Verica had been taught to fight as long as she was conscious, so she drove a head-butt back at the man who held her arms, simultaneously ramming her free foot toward Bender’s groin.
Her head smacked back into a big hand just as Bender caught her by the ankle.
“Thanks, André,” the blond man who held her arms told the third one, who wrapped his dark fist in her hair. “She might actually have caught me with that head-butt.”
Bender, both her ankles in his hands, pushed them apart and up, then stepped between. Verica squirmed and cursed, but the three men held her effortlessly.
Slowly, the mercenary captain moved closer, lifting and spreading her thighs until her shoulders were forced into the solid, muscular body of the man behind her, her head held in an arch over his shoulder.
“You know,” the blond said in her ear, “this is starting to give me a hard-on.”
“Everything gives you a hard-on, Dominic,” André told him.
Bender moved his grip to the bend of her knees and stepped fully against her crotch. Looking between her trapped legs, she saw something cylindrical bulking under his unisuit, stretching in a long thick ridge the length of his belly. The feeling of that alien rod pressing against her cunt sent a trickle of heat through her.
So that’s what a cock feels like . . .
Bender’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, ‘That’s what a cock feels like?’”
“Good God,” André said, astonished. “She’s a virgin!”
Verica felt her face heat at the horrifying realization they had somehow read her thoughts. But the only humans who could do that were . . .
Dominic purred out a laugh in her ear. “That’s right, darling. We’re vampires. Very, very hungry vampires who’ve been living off synthblood since we were hired to fight this wretched war. And you, my love, are an answer to some very dark prayers.”
“And maybe we can answer some of yours.” André cupped her breast through her unisuit. His thumb brushed one nipple, which instantly hardened, sending juicy curls of heat up her spine. Watching her face with calculating eyes, he caught the little bump and began to roll it. She caught her breath in astonishment at the pure, liquid pleasure he conjured with such a simple gesture.
Opening her mouth to protest, Verica discovered she couldn’t bear to say anything to stop that delicious sensation.
“Not so fast,” Julian snapped at André. “How old are you, girl?” Reading the answer out of her thoughts, he looked relieved, then puzzled. “How the hell does a twenty-five-year-old woman stay a virgin?”
“Shit,” said André, on a tone of revelation, his hand going still on her breast. “She’s been living with these fucking aliens since she was thirteen!”
Stung, Verica snarled, “Would you do me the courtesy of letting me answer your questions instead of just reading my mind?”
“Did it ever occur to you that a captive who’s a hungry vampire’s wet dream should keep a civil tongue?” Dominic growled back, tightening his grip on her arms in warning.
She started to tell him what he could do with his hunger, but before she could open her mouth, a waterfall of alien clicking filled the air. Her translator brain implant turned the voice into words: “I see you’ve captured the sniper. Good work, captain.”
Turning her head, Verica saw one of the Jeranth holding a beam weapon in two of its six limbs as it clawed its way up the cliff, accompanied by a shower of rocks. “You’re worth every cred the High Command paid you,” it told the captain.
“Thank you,” Julian said in English. Evidently the Jeranth had a translator of its own. “Luckily the charge ran out on her rifle just as we came up.”
“Lucky indeed. But why haven’t you killed it?” the Jeranth demanded.
Julian’s hands tightened on her knees. “She’s one of our species. We’re taking her captive.”
“Squeamish, eh? Would you like me to kill it for you?” The Jeranth scrambled over and put the muzzle of his weapon against her head. Verica’s heart skipped.
With a growl, André grabbed the barrel and shoved it away from her skull.
“No!” Speaking rapidly, Julian said, “We have a use for her. She’s valuable to us.”
The Jeranth jerked and moved all its limbs in agitation. “It has killed a dozen of my soldiers! I want it dead!”
Julian lifted an arrogant brow. “Oh, she’ll be punished, sir, far more thoroughly than any quick death.”
“Yesss,” Dominic whispered, his neat blond beard brushing her ear. “We’ll punish her for hours and hours. In every single virgin orifice.”