[Ménage Amour: Erotic Fantasy Ménage Romance, M/F/M/M/M]
How many Superheroes does it take to satisfy the one woman who dances like a fire goddess? Answer: the four Dark Valorous Brothers of Chrontropolis.
Before the weather wars destroyed her world, Wendra was the girl next door, except for her dancing talent and her desire to become a top performer. When she is rescued from her own desperate attempt to fly inside her flame by Dark Zavier, then claimed by the four Dark Valorous Brothers, she has no idea to how cope with their primitive insatiable sexual needs, or their passionate longing to bond with her.
On top of that, her own super power, the ability to use flame as a weapon, is becoming stronger by the day, even if it remains useless against the Dark Brothers' determination to master her. Still, how does she make her own blazing mark in the new world of Superheroes and Super Villains?
NOTE: Contains some elements of dubious consent. There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.
A Siren Erotic Romance
4 DELIGHTFUL DIVAS: "Oh wow! Honestly, I’m not sure just who Savanna Kougar was channeling but I definitely want more! If this is the only book in the Chrontropolis series—and I do hope it’s a series—I’m going to be doing a lot of re-reading. Her Insatiable Dark Heroes took me far beyond my galaxy, turned my expectations on their head and gave me an often humorous, exaggerated yet surprisingly romantic experience. If you are a fan of stories that are over-the-top, provide a good dose of humor yet with well-considered angst, suspense, sensuality and even fun, then I have a recommendation for you! Savanna Kougar’sHer Insatiable Dark Heroes is just such a book and one that surprised me to no end... and delighted me even more." -- Kathy, Dark Diva Reviews
fastened his gaze on the tornado’s advance, straight for the center of Chrontropolis. Already chunks of debris whirled in the funnel, with the larger pieces being hurled in every direction.
“What are they doing?” Wendy abruptly straightened. Her muscles tensed anxiously as he lowered them onto the chair. Riveted, she watched his brothers’ streaking flight toward the behemoth tornado snaking angrily over the ground.
Zion coded in the emergency, sending it to all of the Super Brethren. It could be too late. Whoever had created the weather monstrosity had known where to conjure it up and how to time its attack on Chrontropolis. He hoped like wild hell some of the Super Brethren followed behind his brothers, though he knew if they’d been anywhere close, the screen’s visual technology would have already shown them.
“Can they really stop that horrible thing?” Wendy’s breaths quickened in fear. “By themselves?”
Zion didn’t know which way to jump. Should he reassure her or tell her the truth? The force and size of the tornado as shown by the screen’s readouts required six supermen with the power level of the Dark Brothers to alter its course and lessen the destruction. Instead of answering her, he shut his eyes in concentration, communicating telepathically the current status to his brothers.
“My Great Aunt Minnie,” she swore. “Since you’re not answering, it must be bad.”
“Wendy,” he began. Yet what did he tell her?
“Why do you have to stay here?” she impatiently challenged. “Go help them.”
She moved restlessly while he refined the screen’s imaging capability and searched a wider perimeter for other Superheroes. Quietly he heaved in a relieved breath. The three Gallant Brothers flight-charged toward the tornado from another angle. Although their arrival would not be timely, the odds had just improved. Once again, Zion used telepathy to send the info. Next, he switched on the city’s alarm system. It was not fully effective in covering the entire metro, but still, lives would be saved if the worst occurred.
“The Gallant Brothers?” She leaned toward the screen.
“Yes,” he confirmed, desperately wanting solutions he didn’t have. Yet.
Zion studied the rough distortion at the top of the funnel. The precision of the matrix frequencies told him it was being manipulated by master scientists.
“Omygawd! It’s growing.” She strained farther forward, her gaze locked on the boiling black twister.
“It’s doubling in strength.” Regretting his rash words, Zion connected mentally with his brothers, informing them.
“It’s too large. No!”
“Don’t bother with a lie.”
When he cupped her shoulder with his palm, she shrugged out of his hold. “You should have gone with them.”
His own anger surfacing, Zion seized her upper arms. “Don’t be a fool. Who would protect you if—”
“If they die,” she struck back.
He hesitated, but only for an instant. “Yes, Wendy, if they die.”
She froze, her spine stiff with dread. “It’s headed for the center of Chrontropolis, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Zion hauled in a large breath. “I’ve sounded the city alarms.”
“You can do that from here?”
“We have control over all the city systems from here.”
She slumped back a bit, and he knew she couldn’t take her gaze away from the screen. Neither could he. His brothers flew abreast at rocket speed, their outlines blurred on the screen. The tornado had developed into a distorted serpent, furious as it spun over the ground. Uprooted trees, enormous rocks and pieces from old structures orbited the eye in a bizarre chaotic frenzy.
“Good resolution.” She trembled. “I can see everything so clearly. Too clearly.”
He stroked her arms and shoulders, trying to comfort her. “Night vision advancements. Necessary for night patrol.”
“What are they going to do, really?” Her voice cracked and she shrank into the bend of his body.
“Use their flying speed to unwind the tornado’s spin.”
She shuddered, and then flung her arm up to point at two more of the Super Brethren. “Who are they?”
“The Tiger Twins.” Zion’s heart jumped into his throat, not with fear, but with hope. The twins possessed a ridiculously high level of super strength, especially when combined. Yet, would they arrive in time? Their flight was slow compared to his brothers’ speed. He mind-sent the message of their immanent arrival.
“They’re getting close.” Wendy stilled, her body rigid, hands knotted together. “Please, oh, please,” she prayed.
Zion silently joined in with his own prayer. His brothers linked arms, soaring into the whirling force of the tornado. Their flight slowed, reduced by the horrific winds they battled. Forming a wedge, they neared the top third of the tornado. Like the tip of an arrow they shot forward with their combined strength, opposite the giant’s spin.
“They look like tiny birds. I can barely see them. On no!” she moaned. “They’re not moving.”
“Do what you want.” Zotorro slid his hands beneath her, seizing the globes of her creamy voluptuous ass like a primitive. “I know what I want. Her butt filling my hands while I stroke inside her tight little hole.”
Zavier trained his gaze on Zotorro, as did Zent and Zion. A split second later, he asked what the three of them wanted to know. “You were with her?”
“You f—” Zion compressed his lips, looked down at her, then spoke. “All the way?”
Zotorro regarded them for the barest instant. “Once.” Blinking, he stared down at her kwim, his whole body tightening as hard as his cock. “Not like this.” He struck inside her swiftly, then paused, seemingly savoring the moment as if bliss itself wrapped around his rod. His entire face was a picture of rapture. “God, I want her. I’ve always wanted her. Wendra, I want you.”
He plunged again, deep, and then halted. His hands worked the beautiful flesh of her ass, molding and squeezing possessively. “Next time I’m tonguing your clit, baby.”
Deliberate and with no compromise, he speared his cock in and out of her, his rhythm fast. His jade eyes burned like live coals and remained on her face. She had thrown her head back as far as she could, her expression one of abandoned pleasure. Zent and Zion fondled the swells of her breasts, idly pinching her nipples. They roved caresses along her sides, reveling in her shape.
Manacling her wrists in one hand, Zavier captured her hair, twisting the heavy silkiness around his fist. Kneeling, he pulled downward just enough to keep her trapped the way that would give her more pleasure and make her utterly theirs at the same time. She moaned a fragile sound of feminine helplessness, a surrender to her need for them, for what they could do to her and make her feel. At her core that’s what she wanted. Though, he knew there was still a part of her that wanted to fight for her independence. Her ecstasy kept her a willing hostage.
Zavier devoured her lips with his gaze. They were ripe like juicy strawberries, their shape both sexy and adorable. Her mouth was a luxury he wanted use of, often—beneath his lips and on his body.
“That’s it. Do her.” Zent’s growl was crude, carnal. He scraped his nail up her teat.
Zavier merged his awareness with Wendy enough to gauge how she reacted to Zent. Bursts of new arousal coiled through her overriding her shock.
“Give it her.” Zion followed with his own growl, caught up in the heathen rut Zotorro performed, his cock owning her kwim. Bending to her bright red nipple, Zion lightly bit down several times.
She cried out, her eyelids winging open fast. “Yes. Oh God, yes, more.”
“That’s it, Wendra princess,” Zotorro roughly sang to her. “How hard do you want it? Harder?”
“Harder.” She was barely able to speak beyond her raging ecstasy.
“Give it to her harder. Make her tits dance for us.” Zent tweaked her tall rigid nipple, and then sank his nails in. He pulled her teat straight up and tweaked hard, alternating over and over again, as Zotorro increased the pace of his long wicked thrusts.
“Shake her for us,” Zion darkly encouraged. Raising his head up, he clamped her nipple between his fingers and twisted.
“Harder, Wendy, I’m going to give it to you harder.”
“Please.” She panted.
She screamed softly and continued with each pounding lunge of Zotorro’s cock. Her gorgeous body jiggled and shook with each thrust, an erotic enticement that had them all groaning low in their throats.
And had them all planning on what they were going to do to her next. Zavier knew, witnessing it on their stone-carved faces, and in the fierce, hot way they handled her body. Hell to the Almighty, he knew what he wanted to do.
And he knew what he wanted to make her do. Once he took care of her and made certain she was okay.
“Just a little harder, Wendy,” Zotorro harshly rasped. “And you’ll be flying in flame around my rod.” His body gleamed with sweat, his muscles defined as splendidly as any ancient god’s in their exertion.
“You never thought you’d want it this hard, did you?”
She gurgled a sound of bliss. The flushing stain of her climax traveled up from her mound.
“Did you?” Zotorro demanded. He sank his cock inside her, a final ruthless thrust. His orgasm glowed over his physique, and glowed his eyes to white fire. He then nearly collapsed—his pleasure so overwhelming he nearly lost consciousness.
Springing up, Zion and Zent grabbed his arms, supporting him.