House of Pleasure

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House of Pleasure Page 8

by Deborah Court


  Sighing, she leaned back on the cool, hard marble until her back touched the water. Aamir slung one arm around her waist while he kept moving his fingers inside her, turning and widening, exploring her womanly core. At the same time, his thumb touched her aching nub, rubbing it carefully to heighten her pleasure. His hand worked her gently, but with the loving, masterful touch of an artist sculpting a statue. In and out, deeper and deeper, adding more fingers until it felt as if it was a long, hard manhood penetrating her, not his hand. And he knew all the right spots, where to use pressure and where to caress her so softly she trembled with desire, always wanting more.

  Jane spread her arms and let them float on the surface of the water. She laid her head back with closed eyes, and her wet hair was soon covered with oriental flowers. Their luscious scent seemed to emanate pure desire now, and they made her feel like a goddess, cherished more than a precious gem.

  Aamir laughed sensually, clearly enjoying himself. "You like this, don't you?" he murmured. Then he hooked his fingers upwards, giving pressure to just the right spot, a small pillow of flesh inside her depths. Jane arched her back and moaned with pleasure.

  "I think you like this even more," he said. Then he lowered his mouth down to her breasts and kissed one of her already-tight nipples with his full, sensual lips. He tugged lightly on her with his teeth before she felt a soft, flexible tongue playing with her, circling and licking her, then sucking in turns.

  She covered her lips with one hand and bit into her soft palm so no one would hear her outcry of pleasure. How was it possible that this slave could awaken such unknown feelings inside her? He was not a real man, capable of doing such things to her. Did the Sultan really allow him to ...

  She never finished her thought because at this very moment, Aamir increased the pressure of his fingers on her willing flesh while his thumb circled her faster, his soft lips and teeth working her nipple. It was too much to endure.

  Her orgasm was so pure, so exquisite that tears of joy ran down her face. It began softly and grew rapidly until she reached a crescendo that made her forget all except his hands upon her, inside her, playing her like an instrument. His manly scent, familiar and yet so new; his lips so incredibly soft; and his tongue! Oh God, his tongue! It was skilled and smooth, and he knew so well how to move it. She wondered if he could use it on ...

  The world turned crystal clear and exploded in a flash of light while she was drawn over the edge by sheer ecstasy.

  Afterwards, she drifted on the water's surface, unable to move. Aamir laughed once again before he took her into his strong arms and carried her out of the water. He lay her down on a large ottoman beside the pool, drying her wet body and hair with scented towels.

  "You will be the Sultan's favorite once I have instructed you, My Lady," Aamir said. He left the room shortly, then returned with several jars of liquids. "I know this will cause you some pain, but I will remove all your body hair now," he told her before ordering her to spread her legs once again. Then he poured a very warm, almost hot scented wax over her nether parts and pressed a long strip of silk onto it. She moaned when the thick, hot liquid streamed down her womanhood, the slight pain so exquisite that it revived her senses, making her wet and longing for his touch again. After a few moments, he commanded her to breathe deeply. In one instant, he ripped off the cloth, taking every small hair with it.

  Jane screamed when the sharp pain hit her, but it was so short-lived that it was bearable. Aamir looked down at her, smiling. "Naked as a babe," he said with a contented look on his face, while he poured some warm oil over her tormented womanhood. It felt heavenly and eased the pain at once. He also poured the oil over her upper body. It ran down over her breasts, her arms, belly, and down her thighs. Its smell was even more exotic, like night flowers mingled with honey, but there was another, deeper scent mixed in, earthy and sensual.

  He sensed her curiosity and smiled. "This oil is called the Balm of Love, My Lady," he explained. "It is made to awaken the senses and prolong pleasure in both men and women." Jane could only shiver. Her skin tingled and felt hot in all the places that had been touched by the oil.

  "Let's make your skin soft and smooth all over now. I will rub the oil all over your body until you glow and shine like a gemstone," Aamir said, smiling at her seductively. His sensual lips parted and showed his perfect white teeth. Jane let her gaze wander down his sculpted shoulders, chest and flat stomach, right down to his ...

  She gasped with shock. Aamir’s silken trousers, still moist from the bath, revealed something very surprising to her - it was undeniably a bulge, clearly recognizable as a manhood in a state of full arousal.

  "But ... that's not possible!" she whispered breathlessly. "You ... you are not a eunuch!"

  Aamir threw back his head and roared with laughter before opening his belt. It fell to the floor in an instant, as did his trousers. His cock sprang from its silken prison, standing proud upright, so erect that it nearly touched his tight belly. He was larger than any man she had laid eyes upon before. His beautifully veined manhood was as hard as the marble columns that surrounded them, the thick, velvety head throbbing with desire. She couldn't help but stare at his seductive body, mesmerized. He was sheer male perfection.

  "Indeed I am not, Lady Jane," he said with a roguish grin, locking his eyes with hers. For the first time, she looked into them properly and saw that they were not brown as she had expected, but a dark emerald green. Then he bowed before her, the gesture slightly mocking.

  "I am Sultan Aamir. And I am most pleased to make your acquaintance." With that, he grabbed her around the waist, pulled her up against his rock-hard body, and captured her lips in a deep, hungry kiss.

  *****

  Chapter Nine

  When she kissed him, she finally recognized who he was, knowing the touch of his lips, the caress of his tongue. She broke away and took his face into her hands, watching as it changed until she recognized the man she had expected. It was the only one she desired, the only one her body craved. But more importantly was the fact that he owned her heart now, and he would forever.

  "Luke," she cried, "it is you!"

  He pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, drawing her closer into his arms.

  "Yes, Jane," he said, and the deep emotion in his voice made her heart miss a beat.

  "It has been me all along. You were so deeply immersed in this constant high the house gave you that you didn't realize how much I fell in love with you. The moment you vanished and went to the Sultan … I suddenly knew that I couldn't let you go, that all that happened here just was meant to bring us together. My success as an actor made me self-centered, and changed me to a man unable to give you all the love you needed anymore.

  "Ryan was just an impersonation of myself, everything that you secretly craved and that I couldn't be for you. I'd ignored it for such a long time, and you managed to reawaken this side of myself. As soon as I realized this, Ryan vanished before my eyes, and I knew that he would forever be a part of me. Please, Jane," he said, bringing her hand up to his lips and placing a kiss into her palm. "Be mine. I love you. I'll be all the men you secretly dream of. I'll be whatever you want me to be, as long as you can find it in your heart to love me."

  His eyes widened with awe when he saw the single tear running down her cheek, and he gently wiped it away. "Would you consider eloping with me, Lady Jane?" he asked gallantly, piercing her with his stunning eyes as he waited for her answer.

  "I'd love to, Luke," she answered, covering his face with kisses. "But haven't you promised me something?"

  Luke looked at her questioningly.

  "A night with the Sultan," she said, "who happens to be the man who is holding me right now."

  Laughing, he carried her to the harem's bedchamber and lay her down on the huge bed. Then he was over her, pressing her down into the silken sheets. He was covering her body with his while he kissed her like a drowning man. Their tongues met in a slow, sensual dance be
fore his mouth moved further down, tasting the smooth skin of her neck with his lips.

  He traced the outline of her collarbone with his tongue, then proceeded to cover her breasts with kisses, circling her tight rosebuds with his tongue until she moaned and begged him for more. Oh, how he loved the huskiness in her voice when she told him not to stop, urging him to take her in his mouth, a wish he fulfilled with joy. He sucked at both her nipples, gently first but much harder after a while, and she liked it, for she arched under him like a tight bow, pressing her breast up into his mouth.

  But he continued with his erotic journey, his lips and tongue wandering down her body until he reached her soft middle. He let his tongue delve deep into her bellybutton, teasing her with suggestions of things to come. His goddess moaned aloud and tenderly pushed his head further down with her hand, letting him know where she needed him most.

  He savored her incredible taste in that warm, secret place hidden between her thighs. She was already hot and wet, her moist folds opening for him like an exotic flower under the sun. He let his tongue flicker over her playfully until he explored the deep valley waiting for him, probing her tight entrance with a gently intruding finger while he licked her little nub of flesh that was swollen and throbbing, waiting for his touch.

  His goddess cried out with lust and pressed his head against the center of her womanhood. He realized that she needed him as much as he longed for her, a primal yearning they both were unable to resist.

  Groaning, he moved up her body, kissing every spot of delicious skin he could reach with his lips on the way. Then he felt her hot wetness right at his cock, lubricating him with her desire.

  Luke took a deep breath and closed his eyes, placing himself right at her hot, slick entrance. She wrapped her long legs around his waist, and he entered her body with a single thrust. She moaned and bucked up against him, drawing him deeper into her womanly core.

  "Love me, Luke," she whispered, and he obliged as he began to move within her sweet, welcoming depths. "I need you so much." She threw back her head and let him ravish her neck with his lips while they became one. His thrusts were slow and deep, stroking, caressing her until her whole body tingled with sheer desire. This wasn't just sex. It was making love.

  Craving to take control, she made him roll on his back so she could straddle him, taking him deep into her secret place that seemed to be made just for him. She placed his hands upon his chest and began to raise and lower herself on his rigid shaft, locking her gaze with his. Growling with need, he covered her breasts with his hands and began to tease her hard peaks with his long fingers, heightening her desire.

  In her eyes, he was incredibly beautiful, this magnificent man spread under her on the bed as he served her with his body, telling her with his eyes that she still was his goddess, and forever would be. When she felt him tighten and grow inside her, she came with a lustful cry, shuddering uncontrollably as waves of unspeakable rapture washed over her.

  Luke looked up to the woman who was loving him without restraint, giving him boundless, unbelievable pleasure. Groaning in blissful agony, he succumbed to the longest, hottest release he had ever experienced. He claimed her with a few last, powerful thrusts, then lay still, drawing her down into his embrace. "Don't think that I'll ever let you go now," he said, pulling her close. He deeply inhaled her sweet scent, closing his eyes.

  Sighing, she snuggled into the safety of his arms. "I love you, Luke," she whispered against his skin before she fell asleep, finally at peace and right where she belonged - in the arms of the man of her dreams.

  *****

  When Jane woke, she was still lying on Luke's tall, strong body. He had drawn the cover over them both, making sure that she didn't feel cold. Even in his sleep, he was holding her, reluctant to let her move to the other side of the bed. Smiling, she kissed him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  The splendor of the harem, however, had vanished as the House had taken its magic away. They were resting on a wooden four-poster bed, in a bedroom that could be found in any Victorian mansion.

  Sadly, Jane closed her eyes. "Forgive me," she whispered, hoping that the house could hear her. Whatever it was, she knew that it had loved and protected her. "I never wanted to betray you, but I love him, with all my heart," she tried to explain. "I can't help it."

  She imagined that the air grew colder for a brief moment, but the feeling vanished quickly. When she dared to open her eyes again, she saw that the room had changed. It was still a Victorian bedroom, but now it was decorated with dozens of roses, just like the morning parlor on the day she had arrived here.

  "Thank you," she said, smiling to herself.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for reading "House of Pleasure".

  Visit my author's blog: http://deborahcourt.blogspot.com

  and my website: http://www.deborahcourt.com

  for book trailers, excerpts and much more.

  I love to hear from readers! You can contact me by e-mail at [email protected]. For book updates and exclusive excerpts, join my mailing list by dropping me a mail with "subscribe" in the subject line.

  Yours truly,

  Deborah Court

  About the Author

  Deborah Court lives in a picturesque European small town with her husband, two lovely children and a hyperactive Siamnese cat. At night she loves to write romances about elven warriors of deadly beauty, capable of making a woman die from sheer pleasure - or erotic novellas to awaken the deepest, secret fantasies of her readers.

  More Books by Deborah Court

  "Bound to the Prince", Book One in the Elven Warrior Trilogy. Available as a Kindle e-book and paperback at Amazon, and at all major retailers. Also available for all other e-readers.

  Coming early in 2012: "Bound by Magic", Book Two in the Elven Warrior Trilogy.

  Now read on for an excerpt from "Bound by Magic". Enjoy!

  Bound by Magic

  Elven Warrior Trilogy, Book Two

  Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

  The giant nest was cradled in the crown of an ancient tree, so high up in the clouds that it couldn't be seen from the ground. But even at such an early hour, the Enchanted Forest was already teaming and humming with life. Small animals rustled through the dense undergrowth, searching for food or hunting insects. A dragonfly with large, iridescent wings landed on the edge of the nest, drinking the morning dew from one of the oak's leaves.

  A woman's lustful moans broke the silence, and the dragonfly sailed off to find a quieter place to rest while the nest vibrated and shook with movement. "Calatin," the female voice sighed. Deep male laughter followed. A sudden surge of magic exploded from the nest and drifted down to the ground like a golden cloud. It made the old tree vibrate from deep within, and its leaves shivered with pleasure. The woman cried out again, stricken with ecstasy. "Not again," she whimpered. "Have mercy with me, elf. Of all the King's warriors, I am sure that none can keep up with your stamina. You have been loving me all night. I can't take any more." She gasped as a sudden movement shook the nest. "Please," she shrieked, then changed her opinion, "yes, that's right! Don't you dare to stop now …"

  "Oh, but he will", a cold, female voice interrupted the lovers, their bodies entangled in the soft, feather-filled nest. A black cloaked woman crouched over them on a large branch above the nest, staring down at them with blatant hatred in her eyes while she stared at the couple, both naked and heated from their passionate game. The female was a petite, slender woman, her soft skin the deepest of blue while her hair was a radiant mixture of colors - crimson, purple and green. Her scarlet wings were folded against her back, to prevent them from getting crushed while she mated with her lover. She looked like a beautiful exotic bird, reborn in human form. Yet she was as immortal as the elf who gently pushed her away now, leaving her aroused and aching for his sweet torture to continue. Gracefully rising in one swift movement, he faced the intruder, shameless and proud in all his glorious nak
edness.

  Both women caught their breaths as their eyes devoured the whole of his magnificent body, highlighted so delightfully in the early morning sun which sent the first beams through the dense branches of the trees. He was the most perfect male either of them had ever beheld; long, tall and strong, broad-shouldered and sculpted with muscle.

  "Medeia," he said, his eyes fixed on the uninvited guest who drew back the hood of her cloak, revealing a pale, narrow face and long, midnight black hair she wore over her shoulder in a thick braid. Her posture was rigid, her tall, athletic body radiating power. But her eyes were her most impressive attribute; they were very dark and sparkled with intelligence. He watched her beneath his own half-closed lids, seemingly unconcerned by her presence, which infuriated her even further.

  "Why are you here? I think I made our … separation perfectly clear. You know how much I enjoyed our nightly encounters at the guild's stronghold, and I am quite positive that you had your pleasure, too." His emerald-green gaze slowly wandered over her body, as if he remembered every inch of it. "Let's leave it with that and part in peace, Guild Master." He nodded his head slightly in respect for her status as leader of Fearann's Guild of Magicians. Yet his expression was as unyielding as stone, betraying not the slightest hint of emotion.

  The female elf shook with fury now. "Don't you dare treat me like a used and discarded piece of clothing, Calatin. But that's the way you treat all your lovers, isn't it? She'll be just another piece in your collection, just like me." She gestured to the bird fairy, who tried to hide herself in her nest as well as a rainbow-colored creature could possibly do in a heap of soft white feathers. Some of them still stuck to Calatin's skin, a fact that hadn't escaped the attention of the sorceress. She ogled his body as if he was a delicious treat, fully meaning to humiliate him now. "Maybe it's just what you are - nothing but a beautiful piece of man flesh, but empty inside, apart from your vanity. I wonder if you'd be as close to your cousin and friend," she spat the word out as if it were an insult, "the king, if you didn't happen to be royalty yourself? Would he have made you captain of his guard if you were just a peasant?"

 

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