Darker Nights (6 page)

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Authors: Nan Comargue

Tags: #Erotic Romance Fiction

BOOK: Darker Nights
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Behind her, Caleb moved restlessly, his cock pulsing colder than ever between her hot moist butt cheeks.

“Fuck me,” Delia begged. “Fuck my ass.”

He needed no further encouragement to begin thrusting up into her backside, grunting with the ferocity of his exertion. Sandwiched between the two males, Delia couldn’t avoid being double-fucked by both of them. Every time Caleb pushed upwards into her asshole, her pussy ground against Mark’s big dick. And when Mark started to fuck her pussy harder, the world exploded.

Delia came hard as they started to pound her between them, fucking her ass and cunt with relentless force. Their rhythm was inhuman, impossible to keep up with, yet somehow she did, her pussy convulsing again and again as orgasm after orgasm ripped through her body.

The two immortals were in a frenzy now, fucking her and feeding off her in turn. The coppery smell of her blood tinged the air, mingling with the musky odor of her sex.

Perspiration poured off Delia’s naked body until it glistened under the moonlight. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t speak. All she could do was feel. Fuck, it was so good. Her pussy had never felt such pleasure and it was all because of the long dick in her asshole, and she’d never enjoyed anal more. The simultaneous fucking took both experiences to a whole new level.

She cried out as Caleb pulled her fully onto him. The movement shoved his cock deeper than ever before. He twisted his head to take his share of her neck, biting down in way that she was now accustomed too, quick enough to almost eliminate the prick of pain. Mark followed them down, climbing over both of their legs to continue to pump his dick in and out of Delia’s wet cunt. The whole time, his lips never left her throat.

Caleb came first, spewing his cold spunk into her asshole. Mark followed soon afterwards, coating the internal walls of her pussy with spurt after spurt of cooling cum.

Although Delia didn’t even think her exhausted pussy could take any more, she came right after the two of them did, in one last pulsing climax that wrung out every ounce of energy from her well-fucked body.

“God,” she said as she felt them both withdraw. Caleb tucked her under his arm, pressing a kiss against her forehead while Mark lay collapsed over them, his arm slung over the back of the couch.

“God had nothing to do with what just happened between us,” said Caleb.

She had to agree. This was new territory, a place where no Darker had ever traveled before.

“I know I have to choose,” she began, wondering how she could ever give up the kind of sex she’d just experienced. The kind of love.

Caleb kissed her hair this time. “We love you,” he said. “You don’t have to choose.”

Delia lifted her head. It felt like it weighed a ton. What was he saying?

Her voice trembled when she spoke, “Not yet, you mean?”

“Not ever,” Mark answered. “We’ve talked it over. If you want to be like us or if you never do, it doesn’t matter. We want you in whatever way we can have you.”

“We want
you
,” Caleb repeated. “Full stop.”

The lightheadedness was back. So was the hope.

Delia looked at them both. Her immortals. Her men. She loved them so much. Soon she would show them just how much. After all, one night they were bound to make it to a proper bed.

But for now…

“I can live with that,” she told them.

 

 

Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:

 

 

 

Rock Star

Nan Comargue

 

Excerpt

 

Chapter One

 

 

Finn Carter flopped down on the chair across from Maggie’s desk and groaned loudly.

“My heart is broken.”

Maggie glanced up from her laptop. “Oh dear,” she said. “Not again. That makes it, what, three times in the last two months?”

Finn’s smoky blue eyes sparkled at her. “Probably,” he agreed. “Now what are you going to do about it?”

She blinked at him. “Me?”

“You’re my lawyer,” he told her, a grin starting to tip the sides of his sensual mouth. “You’re supposed to have solutions to my problems.”

It was difficult not to smile back at that famous face but somehow Maggie managed it.

“Your legal problems, buster. Not your romantic ones.” She picked up a pen and tapped it against her cheek. “Are there still such things as lovelorn columns? You could write into one. Think about the headline—
Huge Music Star Just Wants Love
. The columnist would be overrun with responses. Of course, nowadays, you could probably just send out a tweet and have the same effect.”

Finn was staring at her so intently that the burgeoning smile at her own joke dried up.

“What’s the matter?” she wanted to know.

When he answered, his voice was harsh and utterly unlike the smooth tones he used to sing, “I hate it when you do that.”

“Do what? Joke with you?”

Maggie was taken aback. She seldom laughed at her client’s quips but, after all, she and Finn had known each other for nearly a decade. If that didn’t give her some leeway to show a bit of humor with him, what did?

“Subtly put yourself down,” was Finn’s incredible reply. “Act like you’re a million years old.”

Maggie felt her expression freeze. “I wasn’t aware that I was doing that,” she said stiffly.

“‘Are there still such things as lovelorn columns?’”

He was an excellent mimic. Heat flooded Maggie’s cheeks.

“Stop being a prick,” she snapped. “We both know exactly how old I am—”

But even before she’d finished her thought, she could see the grin on his face. Had she just…?

Yes, she had. She’d just called her biggest client a prick.

He was going to fire her.

Fuck
.

“How old
are
you, anyway?”

Maggie’s head drooped as she waved his question away. He was playing with her. He fired agents as an annual ritual, starting with his own parents at the age of seventeen. Of course he was going to fire her. He was just going to make her squirm first.

“You’ve been my lawyer ever since I landed my first recording contract,” he continued to muse aloud, “and assuming you were called to the bar for a couple years before that, you would have to be, uh, thirty-nine?”

Despite herself, Maggie had to smile slightly. “Is that the polite way of saying forty?”

Finn was leaning across the desk, staring at her as if his life depended on her response. “Am I right?”

“I’m thirty-eight,” she said. “As of last Monday.”

A frown suddenly marred his handsome face, reminding her of a series of sexy pouty ads he’d done a few years ago. Was that for the jeans company or the cologne? It was so hard to remember. Everybody wanted Finn Carter for their brands. His smoky, sexy good looks were a perfect vehicle to sell anything from vacation spots to athletic shoes.

He shook his head slowly. “I don’t even know your birthday.”

“Why would you?” Maggie asked reasonably. “I never told you what it was.”

Her breathing started to slow down to a normal pace again. Maybe he wasn’t going to fire her after all. Maybe she really was the only fixture in his constantly changing retinue of professional hangers-on, as one popular magazine had once described her in a slim side panel to a long spread about Finn.

“You know my birthday,” he pointed out.

She ventured a tentative smile. “June sixth. Every female between the ages of twelve and eighty knows that.”

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. “And I get presents from pretty much all of them. What did you get me this year?”

Maggie flushed. “A pen.”

“Right.” His beautiful voice was suddenly flat.

“It was a very nice pen,” she found herself protesting.

“So nice, in fact,” he said, “that you bought one for every single one of your male clients, didn’t you?”

How did he know that?

“Yes, that’s right,” she told him, her voice clipped.

“What did you get your female clients?”

“A silver hairbrush set.”

He nodded. “Perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

In spite of herself, Maggie asked her next question. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He spread his hands out on the desk and she couldn’t help noticing how strong they looked, lean and tanned and incredibly masculine. Like the rest of him. A sex symbol since he was a teenager, the smooth unlined features that had first captivated the hearts of other adolescents had given way to an austere beauty that was both elegant and primally natural. It contrasted with his music, which had started out being pure pop and was now folksy and plain. His last album had had a definite country bent to it and had reached triple platinum in record time.

“You play it safe, Meg.” That was his particular nickname for her. “All the time. About everything.”

He made it sound like an insult, which he no doubt meant it to be.

“I’m a lawyer,” she said, as if that explained everything.

“Lawyers hook up,” he pointed out. “Lawyers date. Lawyers get married. Lawyers get their hearts broken.”

Not her. Not ever.

Her only relationship was with her job and, by extension, her clients. It was better that way. Safer.

Her mother had married four times, always searching for that perfect man and that perfect relationship. After each divorce, she’d fall into a depression that lasted more and more months each time and as soon as she partway recovered, she’d foolishly rush back into the very next marriage. It was crazy. And it was never going to happen to her.

Inspiration hit her.

“Let’s make a deal,” she said. “I’ll stick to only giving you legal advice from now on and you can go on getting your heart broken. I won’t say a word, I promise.”

Finn’s mouth quirked. “What about the name calling?” he asked.

Her face felt hot again. “I won’t call you any more names.”

“Let’s leave that part out of the deal,” Finn told her, extending his hand over the desk. “Only the next time you call me a prick, I’ll show you what a real one looks like.”

He already had hold of her hand, so Maggie had no choice but to shake on it.

She spent the next few hours after he was gone wondering what he had meant by those last words.

 

 

 

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About the Author

 

 

Nan Comargue is a thirtysomething romance and erotic romance writer who has been reading romance novels all her life. She prefers sexy confident heroes who win over slightly introverted heroines (read: nerdish types) but she writes about everything from angel-warriors to cowboy ménage.

 

Email:
[email protected]

 

Nan loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at
http://www.totallybound.com
.

 

 

 

 

Also by Nan Comargue

 

Captive Angel

The Gamble

Snow Fire

Rock Star

All Together Now: Country Hearts

At Your Service: A Lady for Two

Lasso Lovin’: Hard Luck Ranch

Wild After Dark: Darker Nights

Wanton Witches: Sudden Storm

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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