Willing [NOOK Book]

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

Chapter One

The night's erotic offering was now assembled, three dozen especially handpicked, particularly invited mortal females, milling about the formal first floor hall of the immense seven story building, an ElfFeyen stronghold, an ElfFeyen Demesne, if any of the human women but knew it. Each successive level of the Demesne was ringed by an ornate marble balcony that looked directly down upon the rectangular central hall with its gloss-white parquet floor inlaid with a ferocious black griffin. Very tellingly, more so obliviously, the women paid no heed to the emblem upon which they trod.

At either side of the huge main chamber, carved stone staircases zigzagged upward into shadowy heights since the few sparsely-placed red-shaded lanterns throughout the hall afforded scant illumination-at least as far as mortal senses were concerned.However, the red-tinged gloom, heated and heavy with the fragrance of so many women, was more than enough for the avaricious immortal males concealed within the murkiness of the balconies.

This night's selection, as ever, was stunning. Breath-taking. Heart-stopping. Cock-arousing in its tremendous variety--golden-skinned lapis-eyed blondes stood alongside of olive-skinned hazel-eyed brunettes, who waited beside creamy-skinned cocoa-eyed redheads next to mocha-skinned honey-streaked browns. None amongst the gorgeous sexy mix, all ages, shapes, races, were conservatively dressed, thus much skin was exposed, a tempting display of flesh, arms, midriffs, thighs, and above all, deep glorious cleavage. Some were tall and athletic, others petite and plump. All beauteous, all buxom, all bountiful. And all in attendance by exclusive invitation.

All save one.

Amongst the excitement and anticipation of the others, she stood apart, noticeably so, on the fringes of the red-tinged almost palpable shadows, her pose alert and straight-spined, like an animal in a trap. Within that negligible light, she was watched to the exclusion of all the others, and not simply because of the novelty of her status as an uninvited guest. Her unique separateness was much, much more than physical. Her essence blazed and coruscated like a sun's corona, a shimmering halo of gold and blue that outlined her entire slender frame. Such inordinate heat in a mortal naturally fascinated their kind, those watchers, those six brothers, each of whom lounged upon a different height of the many-storied open-air balconies of the Demesne Bellaclava and who waited impatiently for permission to call forth the women of their choice to indulge in a night of sex.

Thus they stared covetously at the radiant-as-a-sun stranger, the unknown beauty in their midst, and grew increasingly restive.

This unique woman, silent, wary, separate from the true gathering in her fight-or-flight mode, shifted slightly under the phantom discomfort of so many avid stares, while the other women quietly mingled and chatted, waiting for the fun to begin, oblivious as sheep to the secreted males in the aerie-like heights of the building.

She, however, felt them.

Defiantly her head jerked toward the second floor balcony where, frustratingly, she was unable to make out the figure whose muted mental touch had alerted her to his presence. With a hawkish intensity, her eyes narrowed to slits, vainly trying to pierce that dim, distant veil of reddish-gray shadows.

And Saracen, second eldest in the Bellaclava ascension, grinned wolfishly, gripped harder at the top edge of the marble balustrade, and scented at the air upon which wafted the merest hint of her, the Demesne's unlooked for arrival.

"Ahh," he groaned hoarsely, "she is AB-, rarest and sweetest of all." His excited cock twitched and he had to forcefully quash the urge to vault over the second-story balustrade and claim this prize for his own. He would, doubtless, survive the drop, give or take a broken limb, but he might not come out as unscathed from the melee that would ensue. His brothers, particularly Dominic and Hunter, also coveted this particular woman. Their hunger rivaled his own, combined with and strengthened it, aimed it at her like a ballistic missile. At their symbiotic attack, her ramrod stance vibrated with anger, her hands fisted at her sides, her gaze turned fiery. Saracen's feral, hungry smile widened, revealing the small chip in his front tooth. Extraordinary, he marveled. She sensed them all!

Indeed, for a second and third time her head snapped up and up to scan the third and fourth floor balconies in a futile attempt to locate, to see, the voyeurs who lurked there. And, more alarmingly, more disturbingly, who lusted after her!

The explicitness of their separate wishes had joined into one. They all wanted to fuck her! And the explosive power of that combined mental force rocked her back a step with a giant shocked exhale, then pinned her amidst an invisible orgy. Men seemed to corral her. They stood or knelt at her sides, before her, behind her, leaving her no space to move, binding her within a lascivious grip.

Unseen hands grasped ever higher and harder at her inner thighs until they reached and briskly explored her plump, wet mound. Someone's mouth roughly suckled at her tender distended nipples, by turns exciting-then-abandoning one for the other. Fingers stroked lovingly at her virgin ass, spread her cheeks and probed shallowly. She shuddered in the maelstrom of so much unnatural stimulation. Her legs quivered, her back arched, her stomach knotted. Her mind wanted to escape, but her body was unable ... and increasingly unwilling.

If she could have run back through the enormous arch of the domed entry foyer, she would have, even though the street held no safety for her, only panic and confusion and terror. This place, entered only in desperation upon the heels of the arrival of so many women, had turned out to be anything but a sanctuary. Far from it.

Those invisible phantoms still played with her body, sucking hard at her breasts, exploring her throbbing sex. Her pussy had turned to slick wet velvet, her lips plump and sensitive, while her poor clit had become a hard, pulsing knot. One sure stroke could make her come! If they didn't stop, she would orgasm, fast and screaming, in a room full of spectators!

Dazed, trying to wrench back control of her own self, she frantically tossed her head, stirring the long curtain of her extremely flaxen hair. The lurid demands upon her body, however, did not fade, and, anguished, she dug both fine-boned hands through her thick bangs to grip her skull. She needed to close her mind to their erotic assault! But, alas, it was such a blank slate, wiped nearly clean of memory, of personality, of self, that she had little to combat them with.

From out of nowhere, a word insinuated itself into her panicked thoughts. Amnesia. Amnesia. Amnesiac? The weird terms reverberated in the back of her emptied consciousness, vague and hollow, like slow droplets of water in a cavern. Where was her life? Where was her memory? Where was the real world, the one that didn't contain psychic sex with strangers?

While she pitifully fought to reassert herself, she pretended that the finger swirling creamily over her swollen clit had no effect upon her, that the mouth fiendishly devouring her tit didn't excite her, that the slick digit breaching her ass didn't feel good! Her body, contrary to her wishes, throbbed in response, creamed thickly, spasmed with desire. A fearful whimper, seasoned by a pinch of wicked excitement, choked her. The struggle of trying to deflect their tempestuous force--rather than give in to it--was driving her mad!

Then, unexpectedly, a single stronger urge swamped the rest to ensnare her with seductively carnal thoughts, with vivid tactile images, from the languorous sensation of lying atop cool satin while his hands firmly pressed her legs apart, smoothed upward to her crotch, parted and entered her wet swollen lips, teasingly swiped over her clit! Then a mouth, hot and ravenous and not-to-be-denied, followed that same route to her drenched, needy pussy! Breathed on that tormented engorged flesh.

Tongued her so forcefully she nearly fainted!

"I want you. And I shall have you. None may dispute my rightful claim." An undeniably sinful voice, resonant as a bass drum, rumbled inside her, caused her a traitorous shiver of anticipation. That reaction truly frightened her! The impulse to flee was overwhelming, but, again, she felt imprisoned within her own body, barely able to do more than stand and face this further outrage with feigned haughtiness.

Yet, to her shame, she winced with the vulnerability of being so easily invaded. So easily overcome! She redoubled her courage and managed to focus upon the source of those brash words. Although not spoken aloud, they had come, she knew, from directly ahead underneath the first floor balcony within recessed pitch-black shadow. She strained to see who had so arrogantly claimed her, whose primacy had stilled the clamoring hunger of all those ardent others.

While she glared into that gloom, imagining that she could just make out a huge shape upon an enormous throne, plus another slighter figure leaning near to that kingly silhouette, she felt his avid gaze trace over her body. He examined her from head to foot, thoroughly, humiliatingly, like a slave at auction. Her demure clothing, consisting of a simple bell-like azure skirt topped with a sleeveless eggshell tunic gathered at the waist with a long silken scarf of blue, offered no protection from his intense scrutiny.

Indeed the immortal upon his throne studied her with acute interest, magnetically drawn to this intruder as his six brothers had been. His hard-won, self-imposed, decade-enforced immunity to such charms had been shattered with her arrival. Her allure, potent as a pheromone, reached him from across the great length of the dim hall. In height, she was rather tall by human standards, but not so by his own race. She was slender but well-proportioned, with just enough bosom and hip to satisfy him, although not so much as his tastes had typically demanded.

Her bearing was also atypical, regal, self-assured, and proud even when under duress, for she knew she trespassed, although, contrariwise, she knew naught at all about what she braved. When she responded to his appraisal with a scornful tilt to her chin, the motion ruffled the thickness of her shoulder-length heavily-banged hair which was an unusual corn silk white, framing a face of uniquely sharp cheeks, chin, mouth, and brow, almost as cruelly beautiful, he judged, as ElfFeyen features.

As she scanned the darkness which shielded him, agitatedly biting her lush pink lower lip, he noted and approved of the color of her eyes, a deep rich woodsy brown. He could find no fault in her, much to his displeasure. She had whetted an appetite in him that would take monumental efforts--sex acts, varied and many--to assuage.