Uncover Me

by Linda Barlow

  "Yeah, me, too. But I can't get that image out of my mind of his poor broken body being dragged around the walls of Troy." He rolled over, pressing me down beneath him. "Don't make me dead, please." He moved his hips against me. "I'm feeling very much alive."

  I was finding it hard to continue this discussion, but I made a valiant effort nonetheless. "If I can't make you a hero, how about a god?" I reached up and stroked his burnished hair. "Apollo, the sun god. He liked women, at least some of the time, which is about as much as you can expect from the ancient Greeks. And he was the healer, the god of light, the patron of poetry and song."

  "I'm not a god. A demon, maybe. Fucking black-hearted and dangerous to know."

  "I kinda like the kinky," I confessed as he took one of my nipples between his thumb and forefinger, then bent his head and licked it. I gasped, then cried out when he tried his teeth against the areola—not too hard, just enough to drive me over the line into super-lust. "I mean, I'm not as horrified by that deviant stuff as you seem to think."

  "Yeah?"

  "In case the crashing orgasm I had the other night didn't make that clear."

  "You were pretty drunk."

  "Not so drunk that I didn't know what I was doing. It's sort of embarrassing to admit this, but when you're rough and, you know, with the orders and stuff, it gets me hot."

  "Ah, Ellie, what am I going to do with you? Here I was making all these good resolutions about how I was never going to touch you again, and you're telling me it's okay?"

  Thought, protest, denial—all melted away. I wanted him, all of him, his all-too-human weight upon me, the thrust of his cock inside me. "Yes. It's okay." I cupped his face between my palms. "I want you."

  "Are you sure? Because if we start up again, this time I'm not going to stop. I've been longing to fuck you ever since the moment I first saw you."

  "So what are we waiting for?"

  He kissed me long, hard, and slow. When he raised his head, we were both gasping. His eyes, I noted, had gone all predatory and dark. "Come on, then." He stood up, taking my hand in his. My own legs felt so weak I could hardly walk.

  "Where are we going?"

  "Back to the cabin. To my bed."

  "I don't think I can go back in there—"

  "Yes, you can." His voice was firm, authoritative. "The moon is rising and the curtain will be open. There are candles in the galley that I can commandeer. You're not going to panic."

  Hand in hand, we descended below-decks, guided by the beam of his flashlight. He found the candles and some matches. At the threshold of the master cabin, he lifted me into his arms. He carried me inside, slammed the door behind us and bore me over to his bed, where he laid me down. Then he lit the candles and opened the curtain to let moonlight pour into the room.

  In the flickering candlelight, I smiled up at him. He smiled back, a big genuine smile that made him look so different from the cold bastard he often pretended to be. Holding my gaze, he began stripping off his clothes.

  Staring at his lean, hard body, I thought him the most beautiful man on earth. The flat belly, muscled flanks, the tight curve of his buttocks were all I had imagined and more. I gazed happily at his cock, springing out of a golden mesh of hair.

  "I've got condoms." He crossed to the top drawer to get some. Returning, he stretched out beside me, caressing me gently from shoulder to thigh. He lifted me enough to pull off my top, and then his hands drifted over me.

  I laughed, then sighed as he grazed the tips of my breasts. He found the snap of my jeans and opened it. The zipper made a soft sound as he moved its tab down. "Raise your hips for a second," he ordered, stripping both jeans and panties off me as I obeyed. He tossed them on the floor, and then slid his hands along the insides of my thighs.

  His hands and his mouth gave me such pleasure. Kneeling over me, he caressed my ankles and pressed kisses to my knees. He was gentle, giving. Yet he was subtle, too, for he knew ways to excite me, and he ruthlessly exploited them.

  He moved higher, skirting my mound. Devil. He knew that was where I most wanted his touch. I lifted my hips in search of his hands, but he moved on to my belly and breasts. He suckled me, tenderly at first, then harder. I cried out as his teeth bore down. It was good pain, and he knew how to control it. The tension in my lower body deepened to an ache. His tongue soothed my breasts, but it was not enough.

  Just when I thought I couldn't stand it anymore, he caressed my sex. His fingers, his thumb, the heel of his hand, pressing, invading, revolving in the most deliciously intimate way.

  I moved against him, lost in sunshine, swimming in luminous realms of light. My body gathered itself and reached for its pleasure, but he drew it out, advancing and retreating as he teased and tormented my clit. He held me on the edge, thrashing.

  I moaned as he slid a finger deep into my pussy and found a spot on the inner wall that positively glowed with pleasure when he stroked it. He had me gasping and moaning; any second I'd be begging. My hands were clawing at the sheets. He finger-fucked me, harder and harder, and just as I neared the peak, he tongued my clit.

  I cried out, clutching at his shoulders as my climax hit. It thundered through me, sweet bliss. If it was possible to feel joy in every cell of my body, I felt it then.

  Nick held me tightly while I rode the waves, sheltering my convulsing body. When I finally emerged on the other side, he kissed my hair and cheeks and eyes as he brought me safely down.

  I opened my eyes to see his bright head silvered by moonlight. He smiled at me. "You're very sweet, canim."

  "So are you." And because I wanted him to feel the same intense pleasure I'd just experienced, I reached my hand between our bodies, going straight for his dick. He jumped as I touched him. I marveled at the feel of his smooth, warm flesh. I closed my fingers around him, stroking the tip with my thumb.

  "Ellie—" His voice was hoarse, breathless.

  "Don't you like it?"

  "Yes. Yes. But if you keep doing that, I'll explode."

  "That's the plan. I'm not going to sleep on you this time. I want you inside me, Nick. Deep inside."

  Chapter 25

  NICK

  "It's where I want to be," I told her. I was feeling good. At ease with her, as if we were old lovers who'd been together many times before. And because I felt comfortable, I showed her how to touch me to give me the most pleasure. She was so sensual. A sexy woman who enjoyed the arts of love. She might be antsy about the dark, but when it came to sex, she had no inhibitions. I loved the sound of her laughter, the desperation of her sighs.

  There was something else I wanted, though. I reached into the cubby at the head end of the bed where I kept the rope. I could be gentle, but I didn't want her to forget that kinky was the way I liked it.

  She presented her wrists willingly. I bound them together and raised her arms over her head. "Keep them like that," I ordered, not actually tying her down. Shipboard berths really didn't make the best locations for elaborate bondage games.

  "But I want to touch you," she said, writhing a bit. "I guess this means I should call you Master? I keep forgetting that."

  I chuckled. My sweet red-haired slave still had a way to go before she'd be winning any submissive of the year prizes. But that was okay with me. I liked her fine the way she was. She looked amazing lying there—her hair wildly strewn on the pillow, her skin still flushed from her orgasm, her nipples hard little peaks, her hands bound.

  When I moved to cover her, she parted her legs eagerly. I could tell she was aroused again. She was moist, warm, and willing. So soft. Fragrant and delicate, like rose petals. I caught my breath as I eased inside her.

  I wanted to take it slow, but I was hard-pressed by my body's demands to thrust fast and furiously. I wanted to string it out so she'd feel and remember every moment of this.

  She lifted her hips and rotated them against me. It was too much. I couldn't stop myself from plunging deep and wild.

  She gasped; we both did. "You're finally
in me. At last."

  "Does it feel okay?"

  She giggled. "It feels awesome. May I lower my arms? I want to grab your ass."

  "You may not. I like you helpless, even though you're about the least helpless female I've ever encountered. And stop talking." I kissed her long and hard, swallowing any of her random words. "I'm gonna fuck you hard."

  "Do," she gasped. "Please do."

  I slid my palms under her buttocks, raising her slightly as I drove into her. She felt magnificent around me—silken, hot and tight. Almost as delicious were her breasts pressing against my chest, the nipples hard and pointed, the rest of her so soft. I pressed random kisses to her mouth, her throat, her eyelids; I buried my face in the wild profusion of her hair.

  I was already so hot from tonguing her and seeing her come that it wasn't going to take much to send me over the edge. Still, I tried to drag it out for as long as I could. I'd wanted her so much, and I was finally claiming her. I needed to savor that.

  She was mine in every way, and it thrilled me to know it. I wanted her to know it, too, so I kissed her hard and rough and allowed my hips to slam into hers. Her warm, slick tissues gripped mine tightly, sending sweet pleasure roaring through my cock and balls, winding me higher, making my rhythms frantic.

  "Ohmigod!" There was a catch in her voice as her body coiled beneath me. I could feel her thighs go rigid and knew she'd reached another peak. The knowledge filled me with exultation. I felt good, strong. I could go all night; I was potent as a god. But when she started pulsating around me, I lost all control.

  She was kissing me passionately. She must have lowered her arms, because I felt her nails digging into my buttocks as if to pull me deeper inside her, and I went crazy. I was helpless as a torrent of intense pleasure swept through me. I shot through space, an arrow exploding from a bow. The entire world seemed to shudder as I released.

  Fuck. Amazing.

  Several minutes later, when I'd stopped panting and my heartbeat had settled back into its normal rhythms, I leaned up and grinned at her. I untied her wrists, wishing I had a pair of comfy cuffs to keep her in, but BDSM toys had not been among the gear I'd packed for this escapade. "I think I'm going to keep you prisoner forever."

  Her violet eyes opened and looked playfully into mine. "That good, huh?"

  "Mmm. Yeah. My naked captive and sex slave."

  "I could get into that."

  "I thought so."

  The lighthearted aftermath of love lasted while we prepared for sleep. We were tender with each other, touching and kissing and sighing like lovesick idiots.

  Instead of falling asleep, we ended up fucking again. The second time was just as good as the first. "Canim, hayatim," I muttered in the spasm of orgasm. With her I tended to revert to my mother tongue.

  When she laughed and climaxed joyously, my world seemed luminously bright.

  * * *

  I woke up before Ellie, and eased out of her embrace. She'd been sleeping curled to my side, her head nestled against my shoulder. I kissed her fiery hair, surprised at the protective feelings that shot through me. Still sleeping, she rolled over, making a faint melancholy sound as if she knew she was once again alone.

  I shaved and washed, wishing the damn boat had a shower. Physically I felt great, but my mental state got increasingly edgy as I recalled the details of our night. I'd done the thing I'd tried not to do. Okay, it hadn't been rape, but the circumstances were not exactly normal, either. Would she have fucked me if she weren't dependent upon me for protection in a hostile environment? I'd snatched her forcibly and brought her to this place, so anything she did with me, no matter how pleasurable, was done under some sort of coercion.

  Plus, I'd been using terms like "my life, my soul" for her, and she understood Turkish. What was that all about? I'd never been accused of saying things I didn't mean in bed. Rather the contrary. Women tended to get pissed because I displayed so little affection when I fucked them.

  Deep inside, I was aware of some weird atavistic fear of giving myself up to anything that resembled romantic love. It wasn't something I cared to examine too closely. It made me edgy, uncertain, maybe even a little scared.

  Why, then, hadn't I been more cautious with Ellie? With her my self-discipline failed. She was uncovering feelings in me that I usually kept hidden.

  The sexual passion she inspired truly did go beyond anything I'd experienced before. It was freaking me out. I'd been in an altered state of consciousness while making love with her. It was as if we were coming together in another place, another time, not here on a sailboat in the Aegean Sea on a moonlit spring night. The same thing had happened on the night we'd danced. There was something unreal about both interludes.

  I shook my head, trying to clear it. You're not falling for Ellie. You're hot for her, that's all.

  What a mess. I remembered her huge eyes, the joyful flush on her face as we'd played together, exulting in passion, again and again. She was going to be hurt by this. I'd already hurt her. She was a sweet, warm, giving woman—far more generous in spirit than I would ever fucking be. I prided myself on being a cold-hearted bastard. The kindest thing I could do for her now would be to stay away.

  Anyway, how could I think about romantic entanglements when I had so many other things to worry about? If I had any scruples at all, I'd leave the girl alone.

  I groaned at the thought. No more sex, no more kink, no more sweet hot passion? Shit. I wasn't sure I could give that up. I'd never been good at self-denial.

  I flashed back to an image of her sweet body twisting beneath mine, her lovely eyes dilated with passion, her hips arched, her breasts glistening with my sweat and her own, and I turned rigid with a twitching, aching hard-on.

  Fuck! I needed a cold shower.

  Chapter 26

  ELLIE

  When I woke, I wasn't surprised to find myself alone. Nick always seemed to be up and about while I was still asleep. I would have liked to snuggle with him a little longer, kissing him and admiring his lean body by the light of the sun, but there would be time for that later.

  I opened one of the portholes and inhaled the fresh ocean air. It was a beautiful day—sunny and sparkling. In the thick glass of the porthole, I caught a glimpse of my reflection, and hammed a smile.

  I found Nick leaning over the instrument panel with a pair of pliers in one hand and a screwdriver in the other. Metin was with him, offering advice. I was abashed to see Metin. I wondered if he'd slept on board last night, if he'd heard some of my more impassioned cries. Then I remembered that Metin believed I'd been having sex with Nick since the day we met. It was a little late to be embarrassed in front of him.

  "Gunaydin, Metin," I said, the Turkish for good morning. "Gunaydin, Nick."

  Nick merely grunted.

  "Gunaydin, lovely lady," Metin said, sending me a wide grin. "Your man is in a bad mood, trying to fix the radio."

  "The electrical system's been sabotaged," Nick snarled. "Fortunately they didn't do an expert job. The lights are already working and we'll have communications again soon."

  "Is that why the lights wouldn't work? Sabotaged by whom?"

  "Three guesses," said Nick.

  "Nigel."

  "Bingo. Nigel or one of his thugs. It happened night before last. Metin heard a noise and saw someone swimming away. The creep escaped before he could stop him. We can't take the chance of its happening again. From now on one of us is going to have to keep watch on board."

  I gazed at his golden-blond hair and longed to run my fingers through it once again. "Why should Nigel want to sabotage your radio?"

  "I told you he doesn't trust me."

  "So what does he think you're going to do—call in the customs patrol?" I spoke lightly. "If you did, you'd be arrested, too."

  Nick said nothing. Metin was looking idly out to sea. No one offered an explanation.

  It took a while for Nick's coldness to make an impression on my lovesick brain. He never had been overly demonstrati
ve. If he didn't wish to pull me close and kiss me in front of Metin, I could understand that. After all, we'd supposedly been lovers for several days. We were adults, not teenagers; there was no reason for us to be all over each other every minute.

  But I would have liked to hold his hand or perhaps to sit beside him, shoulders touching. At breakfast he sat across from me, farther away than Metin. He didn't seem to notice my frequent attempts to catch his eye.

  Never mind. Maybe we'd be alone together after breakfast. Maybe we could go back to the stateroom and fuck.

  But after breakfast he announced we were returning to the compound. "My grandfather's finally consented to leave. He'll be packing up his things, Ellie, and I thought you could give him a hand. He can't get around too well in that wheelchair. I know he'd appreciate some help, even though he's too stubborn to ask for it."

  "Of course I'll help him. Is he giving up on the search for the Trojan artifacts?"

  "For this season, yes. Nothing else has turned up. It's beginning to look as if we haven't got an ancient settlement at all, just some random pieces left by some temporary visitor to the island."

  "He must be discouraged," I said, feeling sorry for the old man.

  "A little. But he hasn't given up—he's vowing to return next fall and finish the job."

  "You never told me what happened yesterday after I made that scene at the cavern. Do they know I speak Turkish? Did they hear what I said?"

  "No," said Nick.

  "They concluded you and Nick were having a personal argument," Metin said. "The men gossiped about your tempestuous spirit, saying, leave it to Nick to choose such a one." He grinned at Nick and added, "One thing they don't believe, though, was that you were taking Ellie away to bind up her ankle. It was more likely, they said, that you intended to beat her."

  I felt myself blush. He hadn't beaten me, but he had spanked me a few times during the night. I'd loved it. "I suppose I'd better act chastened today," I said dryly.