Dark Harmony: Chapter One
London - Spring, 1981
The bar was hopping, full of people, lights, and sound. Helena Townsend sipped her drink and laid it on the bar counter. It had definitely been worth coming out tonight, her last night in London before she returned to her job in the United States. This place is alive. Her nose wrinkled at the tang of pot that hung in the air, and she threaded through the crowd toward the dance floor, a few steps lower than the bar level. The dancers rocked and twisted to the music. She looked out over them, enjoying the scene before she joined in.
From across the floor he watched her. Tall, blond, drop-dead fantastic, he stood apart from the crowd, just as she did. His eyes held hers and a slow sizzle began low in Helena's belly. She licked suddenly dry lips. He walked toward her through the packed dancers. People shifted aside to let him pass, but she found she couldn't move.
"I'm Darien. Dance with me." The pounding music swirled around him like fog, parting for the deep timbre of his voice.
The tune changed from a fast rock beat to something slower, a power ballad. He smiled and she shivered as the heat in her body surged, pooling in her breasts and pussy with a force that made her gasp. He held out his hand and she took it, breathless as he led her to the center of the dance floor. With his long blonde hair and piercing eyes, he looked as though he could be one of the singers, a heavy metal god.
They danced for hours, moving together each time a slower song soared through the heavy air. Helena pressed closer to her dancing partner. Every curve of her body that touched his sent quivers of desire through her. Darien danced slowly. His tall, muscular frame swayed against her, and his hands caressed her back through her thin cotton blouse.
Loving you Sunday Morning floated out from the speakers, encouraging the dancers to cuddle their partners closer. Couples crowded the small dance floor as the persuasive guitars invited the crowd to consider sweet, slow-paced sex. God knew Helena was considering it.
The aroma of spice rose from his skin. She laid her face against his chest to draw his scent deeper into her body. Although she didn't usually go for blondes, Darien's height and his velvety bass voice caught her attention as no man had in some time.
The song drew to a close, and he held her, looking down into her face. His eyes were dark, his pupils huge despite the flashing dance lights. His lips held a soft smile.
"Let's go for a walk." His deep voice vibrated through her, starting a resonance low in her belly.
She shivered. She never went anywhere with strangers, and this man, Darien, was that. She'd only known him this one night, these few hours of dancing. But, good Lord, he was sexy. And it had been a while since she'd been this turned on. A long while, maybe never. She could admit it to herself. For a long time her fantasies had been better than any man.
"Don't be afraid, Helena. I simply want to be with you and to taste those full lips."
"O-kay," she stuttered. Her voice sounded ridiculously soft against the noise of the guitar solo, but whether he heard her or saw it in her eyes, he immediately began to lead her toward the bar's side exit. She used to love to come here and dance. It had been months since her mother's death, and in all that time she hadn't returned to a bar until tonight. She hadn't needed the press of people to remind her she was alone in the world now.
Perhaps she'd been avoiding people. Her clothes brushed against the throng of other dancers as they wound through the mass of people crowding the bar. It almost seemed as though they were tugging on her blouse, catching their fingers in the soft ripped edges of her denim skirt. Each touch made her more aware of her growing arousal, her tightly peaked nipples, and the heat that radiated from her pussy. Music roared from the stage, some new raw heavy metal band pumping out sound. The drums pounded a heavy beat that echoed the blood pulsing through her veins.
Finally, they reached the door and pushed past the bouncer. Cool night air slid around her neck and beneath her long black hair. For a moment she hesitated, and then Darien was pulling her to the sidewalk and hailing a cab.
"I thought we were going for a walk," she said.
He looked back at her, amused. "Helena, you don't want to do this in an alley, do you?"
Her heart pounded wildly. There was no mistaking what he meant. "Not really."
The cab ride was swift, most of it lost to his heated kisses. As his tongue thrust into her mouth, she opened her lips for him and let the sensation wash over her. Cascades of sparks danced down her body until they pulsed at her hot clit. When had she become so wanton? She wondered at her behavior even as she allowed his hand to slide up her skirt.
"I never do this sort of thing," she gasped.
God, the way he smelled, like cloves mixed with saffron and musk. She wriggled closer to him. His fingertips grazed the lips of her pussy. She could have ripped off her clothes then and there, but the cabbie spoke up to tell them they'd arrived.
The local Hilton had never looked so inviting.
"I've got a room." His voice rang deeper than ever, its low peal humming down her spine.
His steps as eager as hers, they dashed to the elevator. The instant the sliding doors closed, he pulled her to him. His long-fingered hands cupped her ass through her skirt and his mouth devoured hers again. She stroked the taut, lean muscle of his back. She couldn't think. His mouth left hers to kiss and lick a path to her throat, and she groaned aloud with need. He nipped at her neck and the quick pain made her gasp. Desire flooded her senses.
The elevator doors opened with a chime, and they stepped out as one, their bodies pressed as tightly together as possible while still managing to rush toward his room. Helena's mind was reeling. She staggered off-balance as he let go for a moment to unlock and open the door to his room. Why was she so dizzy? She put a hand to her throat and felt wetness. When she looked down at her hand, she saw blood.
"I'm bleeding." Her voice caught in disbelief.
He grabbed her arm, wrenching her through the open door and into the dark room. Faster than she thought possible, the door slammed tight and the lock clicked shut.
"I'm bleeding!" she said again, louder, panicked.
"I know." He pulled her hand to his mouth and licked at the blood on her fingers. She wanted to scream, but couldn't. The heat of his mouth and the sound of his soft moan froze her in his arms as the room whirled around them.
As his tongue rasped her fingertips, her heart pounded again and not from lust. It was so damn dark in the room, she could barely see a thing. Only a crack of light from the bathroom door and the faint glow from the half-draped window allowed her to glimpse his face. His cold eyes glittered with the tiny amount of light. She felt odd, sick. She tried to pull her arm away, throwing her weight away from him, but he didn't budge. Her attempts to pull away from his awful licking were useless. His height and strength, so arousing earlier, were terrifying now. Worse, as she scanned the shadowy room for some weapon or way to escape, she caught a movement.
They weren't alone.
She opened her mouth to scream, but it was covered quickly by a hand, not Darien's. Behind her she felt the brush of another body, female, perhaps. As she struggled harder, two other bodies pressed against her. Hands ripped at her clothes. It was like the crowded dance floor at the bar, but more violent. Glimpses of the men and women surrounding her flashed in the available light. Gleaming eyes, soft lips, long hair, they were beautiful, and they laughed at her.
Her blouse tore under their touch. Darien released her hand and pressed his lips to her throat, softly licking and kissing her skin. His heat burned against her fear, and her body responded despite the shock of what was happening around her. The confining hand dropped from her mouth. Her lips parted and he kissed her. The dizzy, confusing fear receded as he stroked her now-bare breasts. That scent of crushed cloves was sharp, and she stilled in his arms.
What the hell was wrong with her? She was being molested by a group of psychotic fashion models, and she should be screaming. Instead, it had to be the most erotic and exciting thing she'd ever experienced. It was as if she were watching some strange pornographic film, wildly sensual and a touch frightening, but it was okay because it wasn't really happening to her. She stood naked now in their hands, uncertain as to when or how she'd lost her skirt. She could no longer look away from Darien's eyes. He pinned her gaze with a heat that held her entire body still.
"This is my pack, Helena. They need you like I need you. You're so beautiful and responsive. Relax. Enjoy this. You were meant for this. Your body was designed to delight the senses." He nuzzled his lips over her cheek and breathed in deep against her skin. "Your skin is like silk. You smell like sin. And you taste so good. Soon you will be completely mine."
Her fear became uncertainty. His voice sent shivers down her spine, a path immediately followed by the sensual caress of a stranger. Relax? And yet she was no longer on her feet. They were lifting her to the king-sized bed at the center of the room. The breeze caused by their moving bodies caressed her naked skin. Despite her confusion she was wet, and, she realized with a sort of dismay, she was aroused enough to want what was happening, whatever it was. She'd never experienced the kinky side of sex.
The soft bed now under her, they crowded around her in the darkness as Darien stood aside. They spread her arms and legs open on what had to be raw silk sheets, the nap of the silk so soft it made her skin seem rough. The shadows hid their exact number, and Darien's spicy scent was mixed now with others. The blended scent seemed to pour over her skin, and even through it. With every breath she took she became more aroused and less caring of the strangeness of it all. Soft moans of appreciation and the hiss of clothes being discarded gave her hints of those that were moving around her.
They never let go, but her urge to run seemed to have evaporated under their hot touch. In fact, she was perfectly still, waiting for their first touch. She felt hot and wet, her nipples so hard they ached. No one moved and she squirmed, just a tiny bit to ease the ache low in her body. The anticipation drew a shudder from deep inside her.
That was it, the movement they must have been watching for, a signal that she wanted this. Sudden pain slashed at her wrist, even as the soft stroke of a finger against her hot core enflamed her lust. What the hell was happening? She gasped as she felt a mouth clasp to her throbbing wrist.
Darien didn't join in as his pack engulfed her. She couldn't see the details, but she knew none of the hands that held her were his. Soon both wrists were held to the mouths of strangers even as a third member of the pack licked at her inner thighs. The long hair of a woman tickled her skin as a hot and nimble tongue worked its way to her clit. Pain quickly ebbed as the pleasure climbed and she found herself moaning and pressing her pussy against the thrusting tongue of a stranger.
She was snared by the many caresses. There was no chance of escape. That thought comforted her. She no longer had to worry about why she didn't want to break away. In her surrender she found the freedom to enjoy everything that was happening to her. Her most secret fantasies had come to life and dragged her into their world.
It was a seduction, an opening of her senses to light pain and lust as she was stroked, licked, and tasted by them all. No one held her down now. She writhed against them, overwhelmed with the sensations. Kisses roamed her body and then centered on her breasts. She closed her eyes to the shadowed motions around her and simply experienced the sensations, gasping as she was lifted, her hips rocking open.
Their skin burned against hers. They never stopped moving and stroking her everywhere. Their fingertips burned lines of sensation over her skin. The sound of the pack's breaths came in excited little pants, and her own cries sounded much louder as she writhed against their flesh. The harsh and exotic scents of crushed spices mingled like smoke with the musky aroma of sex. She'd fantasized about having more than one lover. This was so much more than she'd dreamed.
Helena reached out to blindly stroke the short, coarse hair of a man suckling her breast and was rewarded with soft moans of pleasure. Her eyes flicked open and she found her vision had slowly adjusted to the available light. Her eyes met those of the woman licking her pussy with such exquisite care.
Her nipples throbbed and her clit pulsed in her first orgasm with a woman's mouth on her pussy. The third bite didn't seem as bad as teeth quickly sank into the flesh of her thigh. It certainly didn't stop the second orgasm she reached as a shadowy figure of a man slowly spread lubricant over the sensitive opening to her ass with his thumb. He pressed into her as his fingers quickly flicked her clit.
She moaned as she was suddenly lifted. A man, gloriously naked and sinfully hot, slid beneath her. His thick cock thrust between her legs. Another bite nipped at her breast. The biting mouth could suck at her nipple as it fed from her blood. It struck her then that they were actually feeding from her. Drinking her blood. She might have struggled again but Darien shoved aside those suckling her and rolled directly on top of her. She shuddered at the size of him, her vulnerability driving her excitement, pressed as she was on top of one man and set between two others.
Darien was huge. His massive erection lay outlined against the skin of her thigh. For a moment it seemed more frightening than the exciting. Jesus!
She couldn't move, and she was already spread wide for him and wetter than ever before. Every part of her seemed wet, sliding silkily against their hot, hot skin. She could smell sweat and blood and lust. Darien's mouth met hers in a possessive kiss, his tongue parting her lips even as he slowly pushed his cock into her folds.
The man beneath her must have been waiting for this moment. He put his hands on the cheeks of her ass and rocked her hips up, thrusting her further onto Darien even as the tip of his cock angled against the tiny hole of her ass. He felt slick and wet. Shock skittered through her as she realized what they intended to do.
"Relax, little alpha. I'm Evan, Darien's second, and yours, very soon," the man beneath her whispered. She relaxed into the honey of his voice. What he told her made no sense, but it didn't matter, not now.
Deeper and deeper Darien pressed into her. The hot walls of her pussy wrapped around him as tightly as a fist and he groaned aloud into her mouth. As soon as he filled her completely, he pulled his lips from her to whisper her name.
"Helena. Now you are mine. The pack will be yours, but you will belong to me. Forever."
He began to withdraw and she opened her mouth to object. Her arms clamped around his torso only to have her soft protest transform into a moan as Evan relentlessly penetrated her from below. The more Darien withdrew, the more Evan pressed inside, until she was full again with a thick cock. It blew her mind. She felt open and dirty. Shameless. She wanted more.
"Yes." She struggled to open even further.
When Evan withdrew, Darien plunged again. The two men thrust alternately into her, the slight discomfort fluctuating wildly with pleasure. She once again felt the pain of teeth against her skin, this time in several places, but she could not bring herself to care.
Their soft sucking became linked to the throbbing deep in her center. And when Darien lowered his mouth to her neck she rose to meet him, lifting her chin to expose her throat more fully. The pain of his bite was more intense, but at that instant he and Evan both thrust hard into her, and the pain and pleasure fused. She screamed but not with fear, and convulsed with the power of her orgasm.
Then everything went black.