Carnal Sacrifice (11 page)

The urgency for release made her cry out in real need. “No, my beauty,” Roark said. “It is for us to decide when you come. The longer we make you wait, the better it will be.”

“Please…” She struggled to free herself and was again subdued.

Wolf produced a bottle of oil, poured a line of it between her breasts and all the way down to her swollen sex. His big hands slicked it over her breasts, pushing them together before using his thumbs on the sensitive tips. She whimpered, unable to bear it.

Wolf cupped her sex, and a stream of incoherent words rushed from her mouth. The words were in Quechua.
“Take me,”
the spirits of the Inca maidens pleaded in her voice.
“Give me the pleasure that is a woman’s pleasure.”

Sweat ran down her sides. She trembled with the violence of her need, and knew then that she would do anything, agree to anything, if it meant release.

He slid his thumb over her clit again, clearly gauging her reaction. She strained against the hands that held her. “Raise her legs,” Wolf commanded the others. With a practiced stroke, he lubricated his cock and then slowly worked it in until just the head disappeared, letting her adjust to his size.

Unbidden tears streamed down her face, tears of joy and surprise. But now the breath shuddered out of him. It seemed, perhaps, that the slave had become the master. “That’s it, my goddess, let me fuck you.”

He lengthened his stroke, and she tried to relax her muscles around the fullness. He filled every inch. Roark and Cade each took a nipple and worked it with their tongues. Pleasure wicked hotly to her sex. Wolf was pumping harder now. In the mirror, she could see his thick cock plunging and the muscles of his ass as they rippled and contracted. The tension built again, faster, with even greater intensity, but the excitement of the Inca maidens heightened it a thousandfold. When Wolf reached down and brushed her clit with his thumb, she cried out. Her orgasm came rocketing before she’d had a chance to brace herself for it. Her body convulsed in one long paroxysm of ecstasy.

“Oh yes,” Wolf said with harsh urgency. He drove his cock in deep, and another orgasm hit her like a wave of fire. It took her places she had never been before, not even in fantasies. Her cries turned to screams that felt as though they’d been ripped from her throat. The force of it made her limbs shake. She couldn’t stop coming. She couldn’t control when she came. Her body thrilled to sensations she had never imagined were possible, pleasure that hadn’t even existed until it had been wrung from her like a confession. Relentlessly, she was crushed in the grip of one orgasm after another, only dimly aware that she wasn’t the only one losing control.

With an anguished cry, Wolf convulsed inside of her. He wasn’t even pumping now, could barely move because the head of his cock had swollen to such massive proportions. Her body wasn’t hers anymore. At some point during the frenzy, she had transitioned. She was truly a vessel now, and the carnal appetites of the spirits she channeled were nothing short of savage. She climaxed wildly as he flooded her.

“Hold her,” Roark told Wolf as he relinquished his grip on her leg. She wailed as Wolf extracted himself. Inside her, a panther had been let off its chain. She could feel the power of it and knew that animal would bite and scratch and claw to get what it wanted. It made sense now why they had chosen to restrain her.

Effortlessly, her lovers lifted her off the bed, waited for Roark to position himself beneath her, and then guided her on top of his engorged cock. He stretched her walls, a fullness that also pulled on her clit. Roark looked more relaxed now that he was inside her. His hands sought her breasts, rolling and manipulating her nipples between his fingers. She struggled to be free of her captors, to ride him as she liked, take her pleasure as she liked, but when Cade bent her over Roark’s chest so her ass was offered and exposed, she gave a low moan.

“Oh yes, goddess,” Cade told her. “Any woman who has been doubly penetrated develops a strong taste for it. One might even say a craving.”

The spirits of the Inca dead rampaged inside her in their insatiable lust for more. Now that they could feel again, now that they were spirits made flesh, they had overcome their shyness. She didn’t just sense their impatience; she embodied it. Whatever her vampire lovers wanted to do to her, she knew the spirits that inhabited her, that drove her, would make sure she never had a chance to say no.

She felt Cade’s hands spreading her cheeks. Still impaled on Roark’s cock, she arched her back. Some part of her remembered this, the dark, molten pleasure of two cocks simultaneously.

But Cade was apparently doing the honors for someone else. In the mirror, she watched Lucan take the bottle of oil and anoint his cock. It jutted like a tusk. He handed the oil to Cade, who trickled it down her backside before feathering it out a little, kneading her muscles and working the oil into them. Delaney closed her eyes, transfixed by the sensation of those strong hands. Once, twice, they circled the puckered, tender flesh that Lucan waited to breach, but went no farther. Her sex contracted in anticipation. Were they going to torture her again?

“I see how badly you want it,” Cade said. “It surprises you, doesn’t it, how good it feels, how quickly pain becomes pleasure?”

Roark brushed the hair away from her face. She realized she was panting. “I’m going to hold you open,” he said. “It might scare you a little. You won’t be able to control the depth of his penetration. And make no mistake. Lucan is going to enjoy the tightness just as much as I did. It’s all I think about, our night by the watershed.”

She felt his hands skim her waist and then settle on her bottom. True to his word, he spread her open while Lucan gave an impatient growl. Then an oiled finger slid inside her. Deliriously, she dragged her gaze to the mirror. Focused on his task, Cade eased one finger in and out in order to lubricate her more thoroughly. The perverse sensuality of it made her shudder.

“Our goddess is more than ready,” Roark said in a strained voice. “If she keeps squeezing me like this, I won’t last much longer.”

The spirits of her Inca sisters swirled up inside her, avid with need. Was this what it felt like to be possessed? She didn’t know. But the line between her and not-her was getting fuzzier. Delaney would have feared a double penetration, even if she craved it. Now she could barely keep herself from begging Lucan to fuck her ass.

He fitted himself at the entrance. She closed her eyes, waiting, while he worked his way in. Pain sparked along each neural pathway, but it was a pain that melted into sharp, exquisite pleasure. With masterful control, Lucan penetrated her deeper, and the kink of forced subjugation drove her mad.

The fullness was nearly unbearable. It was difficult keeping her eyes focused, but she trained them on the mirror where Lucan worked his huge tool inside her in long, slow strokes. The time it took her to reach orgasm was nothing now. Already she could feel the tension gaining strength and teeth and force. Roark could feel it too, because he groaned.

Being forced to take Lucan’s cock in her ass proved to be too much. Her climax smashed her into a million pieces. She screamed the scream of a wild animal as her sex squeezed Roark like a fist.

Colors swirled in front of her eyes. She could no longer make out anything distinctly. Her reality was all sensory now: the throbbing insistence of her clit as it slid against Roark’s cock, the slap of testicles against her backside when Lucan thrust. Never had the opposing forces of helplessness and power been so sublimely distilled. Within her, the vortex of energy howled with insatiable fury. Orgasm after orgasm ripped through her, tore her open, left her gutted and yet rapacious for more. She heard her lovers cry out as they plunged alternately, simultaneously, deeper. The high-pitched keening came from her, along with a stream of words in Quechua so ancient, she couldn’t understand what she was saying anymore.

She saw visions. The brilliant robes of the Inca priests who chanted as they ascended the hill. The slate-colored sky. Her lips opening to receive the sacrament of coca leaves and the burning liquor. She was beautiful, and in that beauty she sensed the desire of the men. Immortality awaited her, but so did death. Surely, it was evil to fear such an honor, but tears sprang unbidden to her eyes. Through them, she watched one priest lift the rock he would use to smash her head in.

Every orgasm that gripped her now felt like dying. She craved death, even sought it. It seemed like the natural continuation to her sexual ecstasy, the next way in. The man behind her gave a shout and spurted something hot inside her ass, which triggered another orgasm. She growled at him when he withdrew, but then a different man took his place. She couldn’t remember if the man had a name. All she wanted were the sensations he brought. He didn’t disappoint. He forced his tool in deep, where she needed it to be, and let the man underneath take his pleasure in her. That man thrust like a wild animal, bellowing when his seed shot out of him. She could feel it pouring into her as her own orgasm made her sex contract spasmodically, milking him.

Now it was just one man. His thrusts were frenzied. The harder he pounded her ass, the harder she came. She needed no additional stimulation now, just that, just him. The men who had already given their seed still held her down, but in her mind’s eye, she could see this man’s
jisp’ana
driving into her puckered flesh again and again. She could feel how her beauty urgently stoked his desire. He said words to her she didn’t understand but could sense the meaning of. He thought he was losing her, that she had gone away, but how could that be? She was right here, racked by the never-ending climaxes his thrusts gave her. There weren’t even lulls between her climaxes anymore, just a continuous onslaught of ecstasy.

Death awaited her like a kind elder. She could see it beckoning to her with a gaunt hand, encouraging her to accept the gift of eternal bliss and the peace that surpasses understanding. Her heartbeat quickened with joy.

Jaden watched Cade, the last of Delaney’s sacred lovers before him, climax wildly. But he knew it wasn’t Delaney anymore. She was losing strength and the will to live. He sensed it even without the mind link, but now that it was his turn to take his pleasure with her, he could finally establish the connection. He let his intuition range out. With a feeling akin to panic, he searched and searched but couldn’t find her. Inside the woman he loved were too many spirits all clamoring at once, rioting for another chance to feel the life that had been denied them. He nearly sobbed her name but knew there was no time to lose.

He tried the mind link again.
“Delaney.”

He practically wrenched Cade away from her, and then rolled her over so he could see her face. She lay inert as a doll. Her warm hair spilled over his arms as he moved her higher up the bed. He pressed his ear to her chest to check for a heartbeat. It was there, faintly. Her eyes were closed.

Jaden pushed her legs apart, positioned himself, and then let his cock sink deeply, sublimely inside her. She still looked like Delaney, yet beyond the spiritual possession, she was different, a temple goddess. He had just watched her being richly serviced by four of the most skillful vampires in the land, and had lusted for her himself to the point of intense pain, but he hadn’t expected to feel this sense of privilege. As his Redeemer, she was part of the divine mystical. But it was her human warmth, her human love, he sought with the fierce intensity of a man who had searched many lifetimes to find the woman of his dreams and was now desperately afraid she might be taken from him.

As he had hoped, the spirits of the Inca maidens crowded near, curious about this new lover. He felt them reaching for him, exploring him energetically, passing into him through an area around his solar plexus and then slipping like playful eels around his cock. They left a blazing signature of longing in their wake. It burned, this longing, but he was counting on it to help keep Delaney alive. So he welcomed them, seduced them. And while he knew they couldn’t comprehend his words, they could certainly read his energy.

Jaden kissed Delaney’s soft lips while he slowly, soulfully made love to her. She had to be there. Somewhere, she had to feel him, see him, hear him. She was all that mattered. To finally gain mortality but lose her gave him anguish he did nothing to hide. The spirits of the Inca maidens investigated it uncertainly, hovering. He could sense their confusion. And still he continued the long, deep thrusts that might awaken her.

He tried the mind link again.
“Delaney, my darling, come back to me. I can’t do this without you. I had to let go of you once. Please don’t make me do it again. Delaney, I love you. Delaney…”

The swirling, consuming vortex inside her felt as though it were trembling. Jaden could sense it. He scarcely allowed himself to hope. He showed them images from the past: Watching from the upstairs window as Delaney swam in the pool. Going into her room when she was at school, burying his face in her pillow, and making himself drunk on her scent. The dark, smothering possessiveness he felt when a boy came to call. He held nothing back. And now he showed them the love he had for her, the veritable shrine of photos that sustained him during their years of separation. He even let them see the secret joy he felt, not at her father’s passing, but in the hours she let him hold her while she cried.

The spirits of the Inca maidens showed him things too. The grim mouths of the village elders as they spoke of the honor of being chosen for the sacrifice. The brave but unconvincing smiles of their mothers. Ceremonial robes stained with blood.

“I love her,”
Jaden told them, hoping they understood.
“Let her come back to me. My life is nothing without this woman. She has been your servant, your vessel. Allowing her to die is no way to show your gratitude. You are consigning her to the same fate that you yourselves have suffered.”

Gasping, Delaney came alive in his arms, clearly in the thrall of orgasm. His heart felt as though it might burst. She was warm and beautiful and
his
. Her long erotic gush brought him with her. Their physical boundaries felt as though they were dissolving. He filled her with the hot, salty essence of himself, a man’s gift to the woman he loves, and she received it, kissing him, loving him.