Darkness In The Flames (72 page)

Dark pushed her thighs apart, stepping between them and anchoring them on his hips. He stared at her pussy then grasped his cock and sought the entrance to her darkness, rubbing himself into her moisture, sheathing his length with her honey.

“She’s hot. So hot. Her sheath leaks fire…” His voice trailed off as he found the right place—and thrust.

The pain from her chained wrists, the sting of her nipples—all vanished at the sensation of Dark’s huge cock penetrating her, filling her. Thérèse could sense her body swelling and expanding to take all of him, a frighteningly wonderful flowering of her sheath to accept the intrusion of a lover.

And yet this was not a lover. Neither of these men were lovers. They were her torturers—her inquisitors—with no other goal than to make her confess to witchcraft.

Dark moved, plunging deeply into her sex then sliding out, only to thrust back once more. He set up a rhythm that Grey countered by moving her to meet Dark’s thrusts, a counterpoint to his penetration and withdrawal that enhanced her arousal.

She tried to throw her head back and gasp for air, only to hit a rock-hard chest. “Confess, witch.” Grey urged her on, eyelids heavy and cheeks flushed as he watched his partner’s cock slide on a river of her liquids. “Confess or I shall be the next to fuck you. There will be no rest for you until you say the words.”

“I…” Thérèse choked out sounds, fighting for control over her voice. “
I am no witch
.”

Dark groaned as he pounded into her and Grey’s fingers bit sharply into her flesh.

“Shit. This is…” Dark’s muscles strained and sweat trickled down the side of his face. “
Fuck
.”

“Do it, man. Do it…” Grey urged him on, his cock a leaden weight against her buttocks, his breath hot in her ear.

Thérèse trembled, battered by the men and her own body’s betrayal.

For that was truly what it was. Her innate sensuality had ridden roughshod over the punishment, the lashes, the pain and the eventual penetration of her body. Her desire for such passion had swamped the fear she should have been experiencing.

Her soul ached for this, relished this, enjoyed this with all that she was. She loved sex and the feelings of desire it awoke within her. If that made her a witch, then God help her, perhaps she
was
a witch.

Or perhaps she was just a woman who loved to fuck.

Whatever thoughts she had disappeared as she exploded.

Massive spasms of pleasure brought a cry of fulfillment to her lips and she felt herself clench hard around Dark’s cock as he gave way and pumped himself into her on a guttural shout of completion.

She arched her spine in Grey’s hold, a taut and quivering mass of muscles that orgasmed throughout her body, totally involving her in the sensation and lasting for long minutes of exquisite ecstasy.

Finally she sagged, the pain in her wrists now becoming sharp and pulling her back from the whirlpool of passion that had nearly drowned her.

Dark let his cock slide free and ignored the fountain of their liquids that poured from her body.

Grey released her, likewise ignoring the consequences of Dark’s fucking. He merely raised an eyebrow at the other man. “Well?”

Dark stared back. “She took me.
All
of me.”

“I saw.”

“She may well be a witch. I can scarce remember coming that deep in a woman before.” Dark shrugged. “Perhaps you should try her. Make your own decision.”

Thérèse tried hard to understand these two men, but before she could fully comprehend their conversation, the chains were lowered and she staggered as her feet took her full weight for the first time in what seemed like hours.

Still clamped within the manacles, she was dragged to the side of the room and reattached to a ring in the wall, this time leaning over the box bench.

Grey kicked her ankles apart and grasped her buttocks. “I believe I will.”

*~*~*~*

Gasping for breath, Thérèse found herself once more in the erotic hold of these two men. A hard cock nudged its way between her cheeks as hands gripped her hips to hold her steady.

Still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm, she shuddered as Grey found the sensitive spot lurking there and teased it, rubbing himself around, slicking liquids over her flesh to ease his passage within.

Dark watched for a moment or two, then shrugged and sat on the bench. “I might as well assist you.” Thoughtfully he reached for her breasts. “I’ve always possessed a weakness for breasts. These are nothing short of magnificent.”

Cupping them once more, he fondled her, surprising Thérèse with the gentleness of his touch. It was as if his lust, now sated, was content with the feel of her nipples or perhaps the weight of her breasts. Bent over the bench, they swung away from her chest, a soft lure Dark seemed unable to resist. Whatever it was, she responded to it, the passion simmering strongly within her, kept fueled by the continual attentions of both Grey and Dark.

Grey grunted as he settled himself firmly behind her and began penetrating her darkness. Tense and still nervous, Thérèse was initially resistant, but perhaps Grey sensed it or simply preferred to linger over this pleasure. Whatever his reasons, he took his time, easing his grip on her and beginning to stroke her spine, long drifts of a hard palm up and down her back, soothing and arousing her simultaneously.

Coupled with Dark’s teasingly soft touches to her breasts, Thérèse lost herself, lost control of her body and surrendered to Grey’s invasion, relaxing into his petting touches and opening to admit him.

She shivered with arousal as once more the fires of passion flamed high. Only minutes after her first release she knew another would be upon her if they maintained their caresses like this.

It appeared they were quite content to do that very thing. When Dark leaned down and replaced his hands with his mouth, she moaned. The tugging suckle on her nipples resounded down to her groin and her ass, stimulating her all over again and making Grey’s entrance a thing of pleasure to be welcomed.

His groan was an indistinct sound, blending with the other sounds that the three made as they took their pleasure. That she was contributing to these sounds did not escape Thérèse but—ever aware of her sexual nature—she could not deny the sensations rising rapidly from her toes to her scalp. They were too skilled at what they did, too clever with their fingers, their tongues and their cocks.

Grey thrust deep, stretching and filling her, touching nerve endings with the right amount of hardness and heat. “Are you a witch?”

The question almost caught her by surprise, so lost was she in the sexual arousal they were generating.

“No. No, I am…not a witch…” Her words were faint, breathless, forced from her lips in time with Grey’s thrusts into her ass.

“God help me…” Grey muttered beneath his breath as he took her, his body a hard wall against her backside.

“Only a witch could taste like you.” Dark’s mouth let a nipple pop loose then reclaimed it, sucking harder, teasing with his tongue much as his fingers teased the other breast.

“I am
lost
.” It was Grey, tensing and plundering her deeply, freezing into immobility and buried to his balls inside her.

“
Come
, wench. Give him your Devil’s passion.”

Dark’s teeth grazed her nipple and he quickly found her most sensitive place, slapping it with hard fingers. The sensation sparked fires inside Thérèse, already burning with a fierce arousal.

She could not refuse, helpless to withstand the sensual assault. Tears sprang to her eyes as she realized she could not withhold anything from these two men. They had learned their skills well and were using them to their fullest on a willingly receptive vessel—
her
.

Sighing with the knowledge, Thérèse resigned herself to her fate—she would come again. There was no way to avoid it, no way to resist the longings of her body and their lustfully talented touches.

She had betrayed herself once more, her base nature asserting itself over her mind and what she knew to be right. She should be screaming, crying out her innocence, wailing and flailing at her captors.

Instead, she came.

Soft waves of release began rolling over her, growing in intensity as Dark’s fingers cleverly teased her swollen pussy and Grey’s cock started to shudder inside her ass.

“Oh no, oh
God
…”

Vainly she fought for control, but it was of no use at all. The spasms would not be denied, building into a massive onrush of sensation that exploded within her just as Grey began to come. The sensation of his cock spurting deep inside her darkest places merely added fuel to her fire, something apparently Dark could sense, since he touched her delicately now, urging her along the steep path to the end.

Thérèse surrendered and cried out as the shocks of her orgasm ripped through her.

Shattering heat swept her mind blank, blinding her with its ferocity. Grey let loose an oath behind her, holding her body tight to his as he orgasmed, pumping into her on a growl of completion.

Awkwardly bent over Dark and impaled on Grey’s cock, Thérèse suffered through another release and tried to tell herself she could not enjoy it.

Deep down inside, she knew she lied.

She lied to herself continuously in the hours that followed.

Throughout the long night, Dark and Grey took turns with her, sometimes gentle, sometimes harsh. Their inventiveness knew no bounds, their sensual skills beyond comprehension.

She was not being raped, she was being continually aroused against her will. She discovered the difference very quickly.

The pain she felt was from the occasional lashes or pinches from some implement or other the men might use. But these pains were not intended to make her suffer. They simply heightened her excitement, drawing sensations to her nipple or the swollen folds of her pussy, or her ass if one decided to spank her there.

It was as if she was imprisoned in a chamber of sexual excess—helpless within the grasp of two extraordinarily skilled lovers trained in all the arts that would please her most.

They mostly remained silent as they pleasured themselves and Thérèse. Occasionally they would repeat their question “Are you a witch?” and consistently Thérèse would deny the accusation.

Nothing they did to her would ever change her answer, weaker though her voice became as the hours wore on.

They permitted her water, even going so far as to assist her as she cleaned herself at one point. They washed themselves fastidiously after each round of activity, seeming tireless when it came to inventive ways to arouse her body.

Thérèse lost track of how long they were locked into the chamber. She lost track of how many times they’d taken her and in how many ways. Together, filling her until she thought she would burst, or with one cock in her mouth while another plunged deep into her sex—it went on and on until she was weak from her orgasms and her legs barely able to support her when she tried to stand.

Finally, Dark and Grey allowed themselves to admit exhaustion. All three lay on a rough pallet of hay covered with a blanket. The scent of sex and sweat permeated the airless chamber, yet Thérèse did not find it distasteful.

She was aware of a gnawing hunger in her belly but was too tired to ask for food. She merely curled up against one of the hard bodies, weary to the bone and unable to even lift her head.

To her surprise, she found herself tucked snugly between Dark and Grey, feeling strangely comforted and protected by her erstwhile inquisitors. They had taken her body, ridden her hard, yet through it all she had matched their lusts with lusts of her own.

Toward the end their attentions had become more sensual and less harsh, more like lovers than captors. Their last shared orgasm had been almost—beautiful.

Freed of her shackles, Thérèse had straddled Grey’s cock, watching his face as he came, while Dark had filled her ass from behind, his hands—as always—finding her breasts like a lodestone to north.

They’d all cried out as they’d reached their peaks, sounds of ecstasy resounding across the aged stone walls. It had been a mutual pleasure, this final fucking. Thérèse was no longer afraid of them. She sensed they might well have reached acceptance of her protestations—she was no witch.

Tomorrow perhaps she would be freed to return home. As she slipped into sleep, she realized she would carry the memory of this night with her for the rest of her life. And it might not be such a terrible memory, either.

Chapter Eleven

If her slumber had been peaceful, her awakening was anything
but
.

Wrenched from sleep by the cruel application of a bucket of cold water, Thérèse gasped and jumped like a scalded cat. Her two companions did much the same, cursing luridly as they flailed around, trying to escape the icy shower.

“Get
up
, you useless louts.”

Thérèse dashed the water from her eyes to see the Bishop standing at the edge of their pallet, a taut fury radiating from every pore.

“My Lord…” Dark scrambled to his knees as Grey reached for his breeches.

“You filthy, devil-possessed, worthless…” Words failed the man in the resplendent robes as he raised a shaking hand and pointed at the door. “Get out. Get out of my sight. This witch has obviously placed a spell on you. I shall deal with you and rid you of the evil she has wrought. Perhaps a day or so in the stocks and a sound whipping will recall you to your duty.”

The Bishop’s eyes were cold chips of ice in a face suffused with anger. “Your duty is to God and to me.
Not
this foul witch.” He turned to the two burly servants who had accompanied him into the chamber and were now staring with interest at Thérèse’s nakedness. “Take these oafs to my study. I shall deal with them shortly.”

Recalled to their duties, the servants nodded. “Yes, my Lord.”