Romance Author, Lora Leigh

“Tess, you coming to my party?” It was her father’s voice on her answering machine that finally roused her from sleep. “You better be here, girl. I’m tired of you staying away. You call me back.”

The line disconnected. Tess sighed as she opened her eyes. She would have preferred the dream to the stark loneliness that awaited her when she opened her eyes. At least there, even in the dark, frightening abyss of desires too dark to name, she had a purpose, rather than her fears.

She stared down at the large stuffed gorilla she clutched to her chest in her sleep. A present from her father when she left with her mother. Something to keep the bad dreams away, he had said sadly, even though she had been an adult. Tess often had bad dreams.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have left as well, Tess often thought. She was just entering college at the time, and could have made her own choice. But her mother had needed her. Or Tess had thought she did. Now she wasn’t certain if her mother needed her, or merely needed to control her.

“Tess, you awake now?” Her mother, Ella James called from the bottom of the downstairs hallway, her voice barely penetrating the distance.

Tess had installed her own phone line straight out of college and moved her bedroom to the upper floor where her mother rarely ventured. She needed her privacy, and her mother was prone to butt in wherever she could. The stairs kept her from venturing into Tess’s privacy very often.

“Yeah, Mom. I’m awake,” she yelled back, rising from bed, imagining her mother’s moue of distaste. It was Saturday, for God’s sake. She was entitled to sleep in. She could just imagine her mother’s expression if she knew it was her father’s call that woke her.

Resigned, Tess got of bed and headed for the shower.

Tess was well aware of her mother’s disgust for her father’s lifestyle. Jason Delacourte didn’t stay home or keep regular hours or play the nine to five game. He owned a national electronics corporation and lived the lifestyle he chose. He gave dinners, attended charities and threw yearly parties. Ella preferred her books and her quiet and anything that didn’t involve a man. She had done her best to raise her daughter the same way.

Tess did hate parties. She always had and she knew she always would. She invariably ended up going alone. Always ended up leaving alone. Parties jinxed her. Men jinxed her, they had for years. But she was committed to this party. She had promised. What could she do but get ready to go?

She grimaced, confused as she pondered her lack of a love life. Or perhaps sex life. She wasn’t a great believer in love or the happily ever after stuff. She had rarely seen it work, her own parents were an example of that one. And her father’s second marriage seemed more rocky than solid.

She frowned as she usually did when she thought of her father’s new wife. Well, perhaps not new. Jason Delacourte, her father, had been married for nearly three years now to Melissa. The woman still insisted that everyone call her Missy. As though she were still a teenager. Tess snarled with distaste. Of course, the woman was barely thirty-five, ten years younger than her father, and nearly ten years older then Tess. The least he could have done, she sniped silently, was marry a woman closer to his own age.

She could barely tolerate being in the same room with ‘Missy’. The woman gave dumb blonde a new meaning. How she managed to be related to a man touted as a genius, Tess had no idea. But she was. Cole Andrews was Missy’s brother, and Tess’s father swore Cole had moved Delacourte Electronics into the financial sphere it now enjoyed as one of the leading electronic manufacturers.

The thought of him caused mixed reactions in Tess, though.

Cole was six feet three inches of hard packed muscle and dark, brooding good looks with a cynical, mocking attitude that drove her crazy. His kisses were the stuff dreams were made of. His fingers were wicked instruments of torturous pleasure; his lips were capable of throwing her into a hypnotic trance when they touched her.

She suppressed a sigh. No man kissed as good as Cole Andrews. It should be a crime that one man should ooze so much sex appeal, and be such an asshole to boot. And it was really a crime that she couldn’t get past that one stolen kiss long enough to enjoy any others.

After showering, she quickly blow dried her hair, sighing as she swiped the brush through her shoulder-length black hair one last time before turning back to the open doors of her large closet. She had enough clothes. One thing her father had always done was made certain she was well provided for.

Elementary school teachers didn’t make a lot in terms of money, and it wasn’t the glamorous job Jason Delacourte had always thought his daughter should hold, but it was what she wanted to do. Besides, it kept her out of the social sphere her stepmother and Cole Andrews moved in. That was a big enough plus to keep her there.

But, she had promised her father she would stay with him for this one week. That she would take the time off work and return to the large family home she had grown up in before his divorce from her mother, and she would try to be his daughter.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love him, she thought as she packed her suitcase. She did. She loved her father terribly, but Cole was at the house. He stayed there often, and it was Cole she needed to avoid.

After packing the more casual clothes she would need and her treasured, hidden vibrator, Tess moved back to her closet to choose what she would wear for the yearly Valentine’s Day party her father gave. It was also the third year anniversary of his marriage to Missy. Yeah, she really wanted to celebrate that one.

She pulled a short, black, silk sheath from the closet and hung it on the doorknob. From her dresser she pulled out a black thong, a lacy matching bra, and smoky silk stockings. The dark colors suited her mood. Valentine’s Day was for lovers, and Tess didn’t have one. She still didn’t understand why she was going to this stupid party.

It wasn’t like her father would really miss her. The house would be packed. They didn’t need her there. She hadn’t attended one of Missy’s parties in well over a year now. They were loud, bustling and often turned out a bit too wild for her tastes. Besides, Cole always ended up bringing his latest flame, and pissing her off the first hour into it.

His dark blue eyes would watch her, faintly cynical, always glittering with interest while the bimbos at his side simpered adoringly. She snorted. If she had to simper to hold him, well then—

She sighed desolately. She would probably simper if she thought it would help. If she could learn how. Her mouth always seemed to get the better of her though. His general air of superiority just grated on her. Ever since that first kiss, his hard body holding her captive against the wall as he whispered what he wanted in her ear. Her body had sung in agreement, her mind, shocked and dazed from the images, had kicked in with an instant defense: her smart mouth.

It had been over two years.

She sat down on the bed, still naked, her cunt wet, throbbing at the memory.

“Can you take the heat, baby?” he had whispered to her, holding her against the wall as he ground his cock between her thighs. “I won’t lie to you, Tess. I want you bad. But I’m not one of your little college boys that you can mess with. I want you tied to my bed, screaming, begging for me. I want to pump my dick in that tight little ass of yours, I want to hear your cries while I’m buried there and fuck you with a dildo bought just for that tight cunt of yours.”

She shook now in remembered arousal and hot desperate need.

“Sure,” she had bit out. “And then I can fuck your ass next!”

He had had the nerve to laugh at her. Laugh at her as his fingers sank into the wet, tight grip of her pussy and her orgasm rippled over her body. She’d gasped, feeling the slick heat as it pulsed through her vagina, washing over his fingers. Then he had slid them down to the tight little hole he had promised to fuck, one finger sinking in to its first knuckle, sending a flare of pain through her body that she had enjoyed too much to be comfortable with.

Tess remembered her fear, throbbing as hot as her lust. She had pushed him away, trembling, unfamiliar with the hot pulse of hunger that had flared in her, unlike anything she had known before. And he had watched her, his cock a thick, hard outline beneath his pants, his eyes dark as she stood before him trembling.

“Pervert!” she had accused him.

His lips had quirked, his eyes flaring in anger.

“And you?” he asked her. “What does that make you, baby? Because sooner or later, you’ll have to admit you want it.”

“What, raped?” she had bit out.

His eyes suddenly softened, a strange smile quirking his lips.

“Never rape, Tess. You’ll beg me for it. Because we both know you want it as much as I do. My cock sliding up your tight ass while you scream for me to stop, then screaming for me to never stop. You’re mine Tess, and I know what it takes to give you what you need. When you’re ready to accept that, let me know.”

He touched her gently. Too gently. Carmella strained beneath Torren’s touch, forcing back the aggression rising inside her as her desire rose. His long, dark brown hair caressed her arms, creating a curtain of rough silk around his head while his tongue laved her hard nipple and his mouth suckled the eager point gently.

His hands, work calloused and large moved over her body with sensual knowledge, retrained, he was holding back, just as he always did. Her head tossed on the pillow as she bit her lip to keep from crying out in frustration.

“Adrenaline overload,” he whispered against her breast, moving lower, his lips like a stroking flame over her skin. “Relax Carmella.”

His voice was thick and husky with his own lust as he nipped at the flesh of her abdomen, traveling closer to the center of the heat spreading through her body. But there was something more. A vein of knowledge she couldn’t quite grasp, almost amusement. As though he knew the needs tormenting her and refused to ease them.

Her fingers clenched in the blankets of the bed beneath her as she fought for control. She could control it, she assured herself, she always had before.

“Carmella.” She opened her eyes, staring down at him as he paused over the pulsing mound of her cunt.

God, he was so rugged, so handsome. The angles of his face were an artists dream. High cheekbones, the sharp slash of his nose, the stubborn chin. The male sensuality in the curve of his lips combined with the sun-darkened tone of his flesh gave him a brooding, intense look.

“Are you going to fuck me or talk to me all night?” She retrained the urge to bite him. Why did she always want to bite, to claw? The desperate throb of an almost violent lust surged through her veins.

Torren’s lips quirked into a small smile. Too knowing. What did he know that she didn’t? And why couldn’t she sift through the myriad psychic impulses to make sense of it?

“Eventually, I’ll fuck you.” His hand slid up her thigh, parting her legs further as the long strands of hair caressed her flesh.

Carmella shivered. She loved the feel of his hair on her skin.

“What do you mean, eventually?” She panted as she tried to tamp down the heated urges flowing through her.

She wanted to fight. Wanted to force him to restrain her, to plow inside her with every hard, throbbing inch of his thick cock. She trembled at the thought, allowing the image to flow through her mind as she whimpered in growing hunger.

“Damn, you’re hot enough to burn me alive.” His fingers skimmed the saturated curls between her thighs.

Her vagina pulsed, spilling the thick juices of her need from its gripping tunnel.
“Torren, stop teasing me.” She wanted to scream, to demand that he give her the agonizing pleasure/pain her body was craving.

God what was wrong with her? She needed him, loved him as she had never loved anyone outside the hazy figure that haunted her dreams regularly. He fulfilled her. Soothed her. But nothing seemed to touch that dark core of lust growing steadily in her body.

Torren moved between her thighs, his eyes narrowed as he watched her. Hard muscular thighs parted her legs further, the broad head of his cock kissed the swollen lips of her pussy.

Carmella shuddered, her hands fisting in the blankets as flames nearly erupted over her body.

No. No. She couldn’t let that happen.

She bit her lip, feeling the wide head of Torren’s erection part the wet curves of her cunt. Her body was taut. She fought the flames and the agonizing pleasure as he began to stretch the delicate tissue of her vagina.

“Torren,” her strangled gasp was plea. God she couldn’t be for something she knew she could never control. And she would never be able to control her response to what she needed so desperately.

“It’s okay, love.” He sheltered her, coming over her as his hips worked his cock deeper insider her in smooth, shallow thrusts. “Hold onto me Carmella,” he whispered at ear. “It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t open. The scream trapped in her throat was one of frustration and fury. The heat building through her body was too dangerous to ever relinquish control of.

“Hold onto me,” he whispered again a second before his cock surged inside her, hard and deep.

She couldn’t stop the keening cry that escaped. Couldn’t halt the desperate spasm of her vagina around the thick, hot shaft impaling her. It was so good. Not what she needed, but so damned good.

His hair flowed around them, smelling of man and cleaning soap, damp and cool against her hot skin as he began to fuck her with a steady driving rhythm. Carmella’s arched her neck, her fingers tightening around the blankets gripped between them as dark lust surged through her body. Oh God. Her skin was heating, her blood flaming. Torren’s cock stroked, caressed, tormenting sensitive, aching nerve ending to a point of pleasure she could barely stand. She had to cum soon. She had to.

“Now,” she begged desperately as she fought the erupting the power threatening to release.

“Please Torren. Please now.”

He slammed home. His arms tightened beneath her shoulders, his knees digging into the mattress as he began to fuck her hard and fast, pushing her close to the edge, so close…

Carmella couldn’t contain her cry as the orgasm, lighter than she would have preferred, swept through her body, tightening it with pleasure. The desperate edge of hunger dulled as she heard Torren growl out his out release, the hot pulse of his semen emptying into her vagina as he tightened in her arms.

Breathing rough, her skin still prickling as heat raced beneath it, she tried to relax in his arms. She didn’t want him know. Couldn’t face his realization of the perversions that tormented her.

“Okay now?” His lips caressed her cheek. A loving, gentle caress that brought tears to her eyes.

“Fine.” She lied. She hated lying to him. Hated the needs that tormented her.
He moved to her side lazily, pulling her into his arms as he lay on his side, cuddling her close.

“Sleep baby,” he whispered. “Tomorrow’s another day.”

The reflective tone of his voice bothered her, but the fight to hold back the violence rising inside her took all her concentration now. She nodded against his chest, but she knew sleep would be a long time coming.

We can’t wait much longer. Torren sent his though to man who waited miles from their location, pacing his rooms furiously.

Dammit, Torren. I’m moving things as fast as I can. He could hear Ryder’s lust pulsing in his voice. The connection he allowed the other man as he made love to Carmella had been strong.

Ryder had sensed in every pore of his body the nearly uncontrolled needs sweeping through her.

Move faster, Torren suggested darkly. She nearly lost control tonight, Ryder. We can’t afford that without you with her.

A bleak pause followed his words.

Head to the beach house tomorrow. I’ll have the hummer waiting outside the East end of New Cincinnati. I’ll cover her from here.

It was a risky plan. Torren stared down at Carmella, knowing she didn’t sleep as she pretended too. Her muscles were taut, small goosebumps raised along her flesh as she fought the power coursing through her. He had to save her. He had to protect her. He kissed her head softly, enjoying the feel of her silken, fiery colored hair against his lips.

She was a Fyrebrand. But even more than that, she was a blood link to the greatest psychic monster ever created. Her power was deep, strong, the psychic ability to spark and generate fire from thin air, to destroy if need be with flames hotter than any man could create, pulsed within her small body. And she was slowly losing control.

I love her, Ryder. But he knew and accepted that she would never be his alone. There was no jealousy, no anger in that thought. He had known for years that she belonged not just to him, but to Ryder as well.

I’ll take care of her, Torren. The unspoken emotion lingered in Ryder’s thought. As did the surge of dark, intense lust. He would complete the circle Carmella needed. He would complete them all.

Torren tightened his grip on Carmella, holding her close, regretting the coming separation but more than looking forward to the reunion. Carmella wasn’t the only one restraining her lust, her darker desires. Torren was as well. He more than looked forward to the end of this particular coming battle.

A smile crossed his lips. One he was glad Carmella couldn’t see. Anticipation rolled through his body, thickening his cock, heating his blood. His hands smoothed over her back.
“You aren’t asleep,” he growled at her ear as he lifted her thigh over his, pushing his erection against the wet curves of her cunt.

Heat awaited him. A gripping, milking pleasure he needed one last time before he left her to Ryder’s care. He rolled to his back, pulling her with him as she gasped in pleasure.

She impaled herself on the thick shaft, her back arching as she cried out at the pleasure he brought her. She surrounded him with fire, a lava hot intensity he was more than willing to lose himself in.

“Ride me, Carmella.” He gripped her hips as her small hands braced on his chest and she began to rise and fall along the hard length of flesh spearing into her. He gritted his teeth, his hips meeting her downward glide as he fought to take her easy, gently.

She cried out above him. Her hips moving faster, harder, her pussy gripping him like a silken, slick fist. Torren gritted his teeth. His cock throbbed, ached to spew its hot release into the tight depths of her vagina.

His hands tightened on her hips, pushing her to ride him harder, faster, to stroke the tight clasp of her pussy over his cock repeatedly. She was crying above him, her nails biting at the flesh of his chest, stroking his lust higher.

“Fuck me,” he ordered her, his voice tight, nearly desperately. “All of me Carmella.”

He arched his hips, driving every hard inside her as she began to shudder convulsively, her cunt rippling along his shaft as her orgasm tightened her body. He thrust inside her again, hard, heavy. Once more before he erupted inside her, groaning in pleasure, holding back the regret. It was much less than he wanted, but he knew soon. Very soon, it would be everything the three of them needed.