The threesome

The air within the antique store did not smell merely of old paper and dust; it smelled of centuries, and tonight it pulsed with a promise that caused Elara's skin to shiver not from fear, but from a dull, thrumming excitement. She had come in from the rain, wanting to get away from the rattle of thunder and the sudden summer storm, but she had discovered something far more fascinating waiting behind the register: two men who were far more than they seemed.

The first, Kaelen, was a twisted knot of black power, dark, obsidian eyes that drilled into her clothes, through her skin, to the thrumming beat of her heart. The second, Lorian, was his opposite, gold hair and a smile with soft, evil possibilities, his very presence a golden warmth in the chill, crowded air. They approached with unblinked coordinated motion, eyes that arrested and held, and they had been gazing at her since she'd crossed over with a unified, ravenous purpose.

"You can feel it, can't you?" Kaelen's voice was the low boom of thunder on the horizon, vibrating to the very core of her bones. He hadn't moved, wasn't closer, but the air around them pulsed, became thick.

Elara trailed her fingers up the cool, artfully etched face of a small jade statue she'd been keeping herself occupied faking an interest in. "Feel what?" Her own voice was a little more shaky than she liked.

Lorian chuckled, a warm, rich sound as he glided from behind the counter. He didn’t walk so much as flow, a predator disguised as a courtier. “The pull. The connection. It’s why you’re still here. The rain stopped ten minutes ago.”

He was right. The beating on the roof ceased, and in its stead was a creaking, expectant silence. She hadn't heard. She'd been too captivated by them, by the unattainable might that rained down around the three of them, drawing them into a vanishing circle.

"Welcome back, Elara," Kaelen answered, sweeping his hand off the shelf of books. He spoke her name as if he'd known it forever, the syllables a black line. "For a very, very long time."

"Who are you?" she breathed, the question finally bursting from her mouth. It wasn't angry or attacking. It was an invitation.

Lorian's initial contact heated her fingers, enveloping the icy jade on the pedestal. A shock, not electric but just clean, pure feeling, passed from his skin to hers. "We are the guardians of lust. The harbingers of bliss. We survive on it, and because of it, we build experiences mere mortals can only dream of."

Kaelen was behind her, not on top of her, but his warmth branded her shoulders. She felt the strength radiating off of him, the weight of gravity from a black star. "We have witnessed the hunger in you, little mortal. The abject, unspoken desire to be devoured and adored at the same time."

His fingers traveled upwards, not to encircle her, but to cup inches away from her shoulders. Broken fragments of electric shivers descended upon her spine, so powerful that her knees trembled on the verge of collapse. It was sheer energy, sheer magic, and it focused on her pleasure only.

“Let us give it to you," Lorian gasped, his mouth on her ear, cinnamon and sunshine on his lips. "Let us give you what you truly want. All you have to do is say yes."

No questions now. Fear was a stranger in this new world they held before them. There was only a huge, aching hunger, and the two shining beasts to fill it. "Yes," she whispered, the word a release of all tension. "Yes, please."

The world blurred together. It wasn't a savage transition, but a soft one, like passing through a curtain she hadn't seen. One minute they sat in a cluttered room full of old dusty trappings, the next they were sitting in a big room. Black, exceedingly bright obsidian walls had been erected that reflected the leaping flame of a hundred candles hung suspended in mid-air. In the middle of the room was an enormous bed loaded high with silks and furs. The air was warm and heavy with sandalwood and myrrh, and with something else, something raw and sexual.

Kaelen finally placed his hard and unyielding hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. His black eyes burned with pent-up flames. "Your consent is our law. Your pleasure, our purpose. Say stop, and all ends."

"I won't," Elara swore, her voice steady now, sure.

Lorian began to unbutton her blouse, his hands moving slowly. With every touch of his knuckles against her skin, new waves of heat made their way deep into her belly. Kaelen's fingers had her hair wrapped around them, his head thrown back as he went to take her mouth.

His kiss was not one of gentleness, It was probing and full-bodied and had the flavor of midnight and wild secrets. It took her breath and yielded to his own, something potent and compulsive. He ravished her lips as Lorian exposed her breasts, his mouth following the direction of his hands. He sucked one knotted nipple into his mouth, his tongue tormenting it with ecstatic torture, while his fingers pinched and teased the other.

Elara gasped into Kaelen's mouth, her body arching between them, ensnared by twin sensations. Kaelen's fingers fell from her hair, skimming down the back, and cupping around her hips, to haul her in against the hard, thick presence of his erection against his trousers. The evidence of his need, pressed against her, was collapsing.

They laid her back between the silks, their footsteps a sensually choreographed dance. Lorian undressed her out of her jeans and panties, his golden hair scraping against the inside of her thighs as he nipped down her abdomen. Kaelen dropped out of a thought, his clothing simply disappearing in darkness, to stand revealed in a body carved out of raw power. He was stunningly, jaw-droppingly hard, his length thick and corded, curving proudly towards his belly.

Lorian, naked also, was no less handsome. While Kaelen was dark energy, Lorian was lean and golden, his cock straight and long, moisture beading at the tip. They were opposites, but she desired both of them.

"Look at you," Kaelen growled, on his knees between her legs, spreading them with his knees. "Open for us. Beautiful."

Lorian stood above her head, his fingers entwining in her hair. "Suck me," he urged softly, bringing his length to her lips.

She parted for him, drawing him into the heat of her mouth. He was ambrosial-tasting, like sunshine and honey. She wrapped her tongue around the head of his cock, and his groan was a song of pure bliss.

As Lorian was being sucked by her, Kaelen leaned down to her clit. His tongue was not human. It was hotter, moister, more flexible. It slapped against her clit with dizzying accuracy before pushing deep inside her, fucking her with his tongue in a rhythm that left her screaming around Lorian's cock. The doubling sensation was dizzying, a feedback loop of ecstasy. Every sound she made in pleasing him, every thrust of his hips, seemed to drive Kaelen's attack on her senses.

She was speeding towards an orgasm in mad, dizzying speed, her body curling and uncurling.

"Not yet," Kaelen snarled, retracting his mouth, leaving her hollow and needy. "You will not cum until both of us have entered inside you."

The promise in the words caused her to whine in need. Lorian withdrew from her lips, kissing her hard.

They positioned her onto hands and knees, the silks cool on heat-sweat-soaked skin. Kaelen behind her, his hands on hips. Lorian on his back beneath her, taking back her mouth with his cock.

Kaelen's fingers went deeper in her, feeling her willingness. She was wet, ready past control. He lubed his huge length with her dampness, the head against her entrance.

"This is going to be intense," he said to her, voice dark and bitter with hunger.

He pushed himself into her with one slow, unyielding stroke. Elara screamed around Lorian's cock as he pierced her, driving her to a beautiful, blinding fullness. He was huge, and the sensation was so powerful it was nearly painful before being completely engulfed by burning pleasure. He held back, giving her a chance to adjust to his length, his body trembling with the exercise of restraint.

Then he stroked. Long, slow, destroying sweeps that shook her to the core. Each receding was pain, each stroke a pleasure. Lorian moved his hips in slow motion, fucking her mouth contrary to Kaelen's rhythm. She was the string of connection between them, the conduit for their power shared.

The beat quickened. The brushstrokes of Kaelen became faster, turbulent, slamming into her with a fierceness that reverberated deep within her very bones. And there was no violence, only tempestuous passion, wild hunger to blend, to be as one. Magical energy in the room at its peak, candle flames shooting high. She experienced their ecstasy as her own, Kaelen's dark, victorious mastery, Lorian's light, rapturous exultation.

Lorian's hands clamped around her clit, tight, desperate circles while Kaelen stroked in one that scoured that sweet spot deep inside of her.

The coil relaxed.

Her orgasm erupted, a supernova of sensation that consumed her. She pushed back against Kaelen's hammering cock, her cries muffled by Lorian's own orgasm as he pumped into her mouth, his taste filling her mouth. The crests of her orgasm crashed on and on in perpetuity, each one more divine than the last, stoked by their magical connection.

Feeling himself tense against her, Kaelen made one last, hard drive, booming his release as he filled her, his heat pouring into her, his body folding over hers in satiated contentment.

They curled up in the pile of silks and furs, a happy, tangled group of bodies. Kaelen stiffened within her, but did not move, clasping on. Lorian pressed his face into her chest, nuzzling the curve of her neck, leaving gentle, drowsy kisses along the bend of her shoulder.

The hum in the air had died down to a contented rumble. Elara hung suspended in a cloud of endorphins and raw magic, more relaxed, more complete, than she'd ever felt in life. She traced the sinuous flow of a tattoo on Lorian's arm that seemed to flow like water, and felt Kaelen's possessive arm wrap closer around her waist.

Kaelen kissed the damp flesh of her back. "Chapter one," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction and possibility, "of a very, very long story."