by Gillian Zane
The wind died down and she looked at him, holding a fireplace poker in his hand. He must have hit the vase as she held on for dear life.
Sierra waited for it to be over, but the wind still whipped. Not as strong, but still there, still bombarding her with sand. She looked down at her feet, the vase was destroyed but there were still large parts of it.
“Sierra,” Owen implored and handed her the poker and he began to stomp on the pieces of the vase, grounding them to tiny shards. Sierra followed suit, slamming the poker into each large piece that she found.
The wind was now only a little gust. Sierra looked up from her glass smashing task to see the sand eddies had started to coalesce into a form. But the Peri was weak looking, translucent. He reached for them, his face a mask of pain.
Sierra and Owen didn’t let up. They stomped and slammed the poker down until every last shard was ground to dust.
A loud pop ricocheted off the walls and the Peri winked out of existence.
“It is done.” The Sultan looked at Sierra in gratitude. “Mountain, you have saved me from eternal torment. Nothing I can say will convey my gratitude. Let me repay you with pleasure.”
“See-eh-rah,” she annunciated, but the Sultan shrugged, it wasn’t like it mattered to him. “Fine. Don’t worry about it. It was nothing.” She was suddenly self-conscious. The Sultan was looking at her like she was the Virgin Mary.
“You were amazing.” Owen wrapped an arm around her waist and squeezed. “Are you okay? That sand hurt.” He looked her up and down but there wasn’t any visible damage. Her skin was red as if she had a light sunburn and there was sand in all her cracks and crevices, but other than that she was fine. The worst injuries were from the broken vase. A few cuts oozed blood down her bare arms. When he noticed her injuries, he pulled off his shirt, exposing miles and miles of skin over tightly defined muscles, making Sierra sigh and want to touch. She wanted to do more than touch, even with the sting of her injuries.
Owen ripped his shirt and wrapped the pieces around her arm, tying them off.
“When we get out of here, I’ll fix them up right,” he whispered and touched her cheek. She desperately wanted that. The lust spell might have worn off, but Sierra was smitten.
“I have the idea.” The Sultan raised a finger in the air and Sierra and Owen glanced at him.
“To say thank you, we shall all have pleasure. I am quite good at pleasure,” he leered and moved forward.
“Uh, Sultan, Ali…” Sierra froze as the Sultan pulled her into a tight embrace, his lips feather light on her neck, causing her to shiver.
“That’s enough.” Owen pulled her back to his side, the Sultan blinked up at them.
“A thank you would be enough,” Sierra said with a smile, kind of turned on by Owen’s protectiveness.
“And I think we’re running out of time, no time for pleasure.” Owen motioned to the room around them.
Sierra noticed the difference. The smell was different. The jasmine had faded, leaving behind a musty smell. The colors were not quite as bright. The magic of the place was disappearing. The spell had been broken. The Sultan’s time here was over. Sierra and Owen had done their job and now it was time for this man lost in time, this ghost, to move on. Where that was, Sierra had no clue, but there was something waiting for him.
“Ali,” Sierra said gently and he nodded as if he understood. He could see the difference in the room too.
“I have an adventure to begin it would seem,” he chuckled, it was a deep spicy laugh. This man would have been a force to be reckoned with in his day. “I would like to stay and go an adventure with you two, such a beautiful modern pair,” he touched Sierra’s cheek wistfully, “I believe I would like this future.”
“I believe you would too,” Sierra said. “But I think fate has other plans for you.” She stepped back and watched as the Sultan began to lose some of his vibrancy. Slowly he faded. He looked down at his now translucent hands in wonder. He was now truly the ghost, the apparition on the balcony that they had spotted at the beginning of the night.
A great light burst out from behind him and he turned with a look of wonder. He didn’t say a word. He slipped into the light and disappeared from sight, the light fading the moment he passed over the threshold.
“That was something,” Owen said softly.
“That was something indeed. Never thought I would be doing something like this on my trip to New Orleans,” Sierra laughed.
The couple took in their surroundings. The lush room, now dimmed, not quite so vibrant. The pillows littered the floor, scattered in no discernible pattern, but still plush and comfy looking. The drapes fluttered from a muted wind and a soft light flowed in from the outside, 1800s New Orleans was still going strong even after the Sultan had moved on.
Owen’s gaze heated as the two locked gazes.
“I know we were both under some sort of spell, but I can’t get that moment, that time out of my head. Please tell me you don’t feel like I took advantage of you. I could never forgive myself.” He took her hand.
“Oh, no, it was…well, it was amazing. I’ve never felt like that before,” she said. He had moved directly in front of her, his hands at her hips. She stared up into his eyes and had never felt so lost before in her life. What they had gone through gave Sierra the feeling that she knew Owen better than she knew some of her close friends, but at the same time she knew hardly anything about him. She knew he was a nice guy, she knew he cared about her welfare, and she knew he was ridiculously good in bed.
He pulled her to him, his hard body pressed against hers. His head dipped down to meet hers and their lips touched. Light at first, like before. It was a tentative touch, allowing her to pull back. Allowing her to make a choice. She made the choice to deepen it. She pulled him closer, gripping his shoulders and holding on as if her life depended on it.
He kissed over her chin and down her neck. She moved her head to the side giving him access. He kissed down her neck, light and soft, as if he didn’t want to push her too hard, or too far. But Sierra didn’t care if he pushed too hard. She wanted him. She wanted to feel what they experienced before. She wanted to know if it could be that good without a spell and she was impatient to find out. The hard bulge of his excitement pressed against her leg.
Her hand moved to the front of his jeans, rubbing him through the thick material, making him groan against her neck. She fumbled with his button and fly, reaching into his pants and releasing him. He was as perfect as she remembered. Rock hard and thick. She wrapped her palm around him and pulled, running her hand seductively along his length and over the head.
“Fuck, Sierra,” he moaned.
“That’s the point,” she purred and went to her knees in front of him. She wanted to hear him moan again. She wanted him to lose control. She licked the bottom of his cock while she yanked his pants down to his ankles, giving him more room to brace himself.
She took him in her hand and swallowed him, deep and long. He cried out her name and some other expletives, his hands plunging into her hair, but he made no move to guide her. He let her set the pace, let her pump down onto him, licking him with each pull of her mouth. She pumped him with her hand into her mouth, savoring every curse, every shiver he made. Each time she slid her tongue across his length, he rewarded her with another delicious sound.
“I’m close, I want to come in your delicious mouth.” She let him take control. He began to rock into her mouth, his hand holding tight to her head as he pushed her onto his cock, fucking her mouth.
He came with another curse, another cry to the heavens, and his hot seed emptied into Sierra. She swallowed him down with eagerness, loving the taste of him, loving the way he lost control.
Chapter 19
Owen’s mind was blown. He didn’t know how this could possible happen to him. He had witnessed mind blowing carnage and was now experiencing the hottest sex of his lifetime.
Sierra, her face flushed from excitement, stood up in
front of him and he pulled her to him, kissing her and tasting him on her tongue. She had swallowed him down with no complaint and it was ridiculously hot. He wanted to make her come now.
He slid his arms around her, releasing the snap of her bodice with a click. The sparkling bra fell away, revealing her breasts. Her dark nipples were hard and erect and he sucked one into his mouth, biting down lightly and eliciting a yelp from her.
With another tug he was relieving her of her skirt. She was so gorgeous, her skin a dusty bronze, decorated with the bright swirls and loops of her ink.
“Lay down,” he ordered and she obeyed him, lying back on the pillows, her knees together demurely. He needed to change that.
He got to his knees next to her and slipped a hand between her knees.
“None of that,” he said gently and spread her legs. She still wore the full underwear that went with her costume, it covered too much, but he wanted to play.
He crawled on his knees until he was settled between her legs, looking down at her body splayed out in front of him. Her long dark hair was spread out on the pillows and her lips were red and swollen from sucking his cock. She was the most exquisite creature he had the pleasure to come in contact with. Exotic and enticing.
He ran his hand down her leg, marveling at the shivers it sent over her body and the quick inhalation of her breath as he neared her pussy. She wanted him to touch her. He could see it in her eyes, in how she spread her legs wider the closer he got, thrusting that hot little cunt forward in offering. And he would take it, he would take every piece of her that she wanted to give. He was greedy like that. He wanted Sierra. He wanted Sierra more than he had wanted anything. He wanted to be buried deep inside of her, but he had to hold back, just a little.
He slid his hand over her soft inner thigh and she squirmed, ticklish.
“Amazing,” he said on a soft exhalation of breath.
His finger slipped underneath the elastic of her panties and she gasped.
“Please, Owen,” she begged and he grinned at her, satisfied with her reaction. He wanted her to beg.
He moved the silky material aside, revealing the wet mound of her pussy. She was swollen and dripping, all from sucking him off. He liked this girl, liked her a lot. He wanted more.
With a quick stroke he slid his fingers through her wet folds and revealed the tight bud of her clit.
“Owen,” she begged, thrusting her hips forward.
“Easy, baby,” he purred. His thumb rubbed over her clit and she jumped again. She was so responsive to his touch, it was an ego boost. He slipped a finger inside of her. Wet and warm, she sucked at his finger, pumping against him when he moved in and out of her. With each stroke he rubbed her clit with his thumb, while slipping a second finger into her and speeding up his pace.
He wanted it to be his cock, but he knew he had to make her come first.
Owen sat back, moving to the side of her as he relieved her of her panties, pulling them over those silky smooth legs and flinging them across the room. He maneuvered back between her legs, pushing them open, spreading them so he could have access to all of her.
Instead of his finger, he bent over her and sucked her clit into his mouth.
“Son of a bitch,” she squealed and slapped the pillows as she pushed forward against his tongue.
“Pretty pussy,” he murmured as he licked at her folds, slipping a finger into her to complete the sensation.
“Owen, I…” she cut off in a scream of pleasure when he sucked hard on her and slipped another finger into her, finding the perfect spot, the perfect stimulation that rendered her speechless. She was nothing but moans and unintelligible words as she flailed under him. Owen didn’t let up. He licked her in a consistent pace with the perfect pressure.
She came hard. Her body pumping into him, clenching around his fingers. He lapped up her juices, loving the taste of her, the abandon of her cries.
“I’m going to fuck you now, Sierra.” He sat back and aligned himself with her soaked core.
“Yes, please, Owen,” she moaned, her hand drifting between her legs to help him enter her. It wasn’t necessary though. He slipped inside of her with ease. He was big and thick, but Sierra was dripping with need and this was what she wanted. His cock. She was dying for it, begging, and when he seated himself in her hot little pussy, he lost himself to the sensation.
She was incredible. So unbelievably sexy. He never wanted this to end. He told her so and she wrapped her legs around him, bringing him deeper.
He pumped into her, at first slow and steady, but as the intensity of their union overwhelmed him his pace became hurried, hard, but he never lost control. She moaned when he hit the right spot and he continued the assault, pumping into her, enjoying every moment of this.
He knew she was close. Her breath hitched and she panted from the pace of their joining. She stared at him, her bottom lip trembling as the orgasm ripped through her, causing her to throw her head back in a scream.
Owen wasn’t far behind her. Watching her come, the pull on his dick and the flood of juices was too much. He fell over the edge with her, emptying inside of her with one final thrust.
He was seeing stars, specs of black and white lights popping behind his eyes as he pulled from her, his cock still semi-hard. He wasn’t quite satisfied, but he would have to be. He had to make sure they got back safe and that wouldn’t be accomplished rutting around on the floor of the Sultan’s Palace.
Chapter 20
When the stars faded from Sierra’s eyes, she propped herself up on her elbows and looked at Owen. She marveled at his wide shoulders and flat stomach. She grinned when she saw his dick jutting out in front of him, not sated. Neither was she. She touched it, biting her lip as the warm flood of arousal washed over her. He was soaked with her juices.
“Baby, stop.” He sat up and moved her hand away, making her pout.
“We need to get out of here, then you can touch me all you want. We’ll spend the rest of our vacation in a hotel room, yours or mine, I don’t care. As long as we are ordering in.”
“That sounds yummy,” she purred.
“It will be, but we have to get out of here. Look.” He gestured to the room around them. The pillows they lay on were still vibrant but the room around them was gray and blurry as if it was fading from existence. The spell was almost over.
“I don’t know what happens to us if the place fades,” he said.
“Yeah, we need to get out of here.” She ran a hand over her chest and gripped the skeleton key that had gotten them into this situation. Hopefully it would lead them out.
She got to her feet, looking around for her clothes. They were scattered around the fading room. The bright red material stood out in stark contrast to the gray surroundings. She slipped back into the costume and turned around to find Owen in his jeans and shoes, sans a shirt which was still wrapped around her forearms in pieces. The cuts didn’t sting anymore.
“How do you think we should get out of here?” she asked.
“The same way we came in.” He pointed to the atrium that led to the front door and they both moved in that direction. The floor was strange, it shimmered and moved, making Sierra walk slowly. A haze had descended over them, becoming thicker and thicker the more they moved away from the main room.
By the time they got to where the door was supposed to be, they had lost visibility. Sierra gripped Owen’s hand in a death grip and extended her arm in front of her, feeling for the door.
Her fingers touched something solid and she slid them across the surface until she found a door handle. She tugged on it, but it wouldn’t open. It was locked.
“It’s locked,” she said.
“Use the key,” he replied.
She slipped it over her head and she was careful as she used her other hand to locate the keyhole. She slipped the crystal key into the hole when she found it and it slid into place, clicking when she turned it.
The door popped open with a hiss and
the key slid into the lock, almost slipping from her fingers. She pulled it back out of the keyhole and held it in a death grip in her hand. She didn’t want to let go of skeleton key that had gotten her into this mess.
Owen slipped an arm around her and muscled the door the rest of the way open. It was old and it groaned as he pushed it wide. The cool night air washed over the both of them. The wet touch of the humidity, mixed with the sound of a jazz band and the honking of a car horn clued them in that they had succeeded. They were back.
They stood on the sidewalk outside of the house as if nothing had happened. Sierra looked down at her palm, at the key that lay heavy and startling cold against her skin.
“What do you think we should do with it?” Owen asked in a whisper. But, the question was unneeded. They gasped as the key shimmered and burst into a cloud of mist. Gone from her hand. Gone from this world. Sierra felt relief wash over her, she had done what was needed. She knew that now.
“Oh my God! You guys went in there? What the hell?” Sierra looked up startled to see her friend rushing from across the street.
“What were you thinking? Jesus, Sierra. I didn’t know where you had gone. I looked up and you had disappeared and I was with the tour and didn’t even notice. I came running back here to this friggin’ creepy ass street. What the hell, Sierra?” She eyed the two of them with suspicion and crossed her arms over her chest to cement her grumpiness.
Sierra didn’t know if she should tell Cecilia what had happened, if she would even believe them.
“We were curious.” Owen made the decision for her.
“Yeah, curious, sure.” Cecilia eyed his shirtless look and then noticed Sierra’s arms. “What happened there, and I hoped you used protection and your tetanus shots are up to date?”
“I cut myself. It’s a long story, Cecilia, and right now all I want is a really stiff drink,” Sierra sighed.
“You better tell me this long story. What in the world could you guys have gotten into? I was only gone for about five minutes.” Cecilia frowned at them.