Whatever energy that was in there had drawn her to a silken powder blue and gold chair near the window. Vibrations of sensual excitement spun around her like ribbons of oozing honey, overpowering in its sweet clinging texture, imprisoning her in the sexual atmosphere that now hovered within the room. She could smell the scent of lust that clung to the air. And to her.
Korrie turned to look at the canopied bed and it was as though she could see the imprint of bodies sliding seductively over the covers. Shadows of movement pressing against the bronzed satin comforter; the indentation of a head on the pillow, thrashing wildly.
Then she sensed that someone had once sat in that chair, watched the twining of bodies, the pressing and penetration, heard the moans and the slapping and sucking of heated, damp flesh, smelled the scent of musky bodies. She felt his presence, and it was definitely a man; unable to stop herself, she pressed a hand to her throbbing, feminine flesh. The room grew darker, the lighting subdued, as she concentrated on the bed.
It was no longer her own female flesh she felt beneath her hands, but a large prick at full mast, hot and throbbing, as whoever it was that was watching the display of passion stroked himself. Electrical impulses seemed to emanate from the thick stalk, shocking the palm of her hand, shooting down through the tips of her fingers.
As surely as she knew her own name, she knew the name of the man whose body she now seemed to be wrapped in.
Athan.
She dropped her head back and closed her eyes, feeling the male arousal fill her. She felt his hand stroke the heat of his sex, smearing the liquid across the glans. More and more pre-ejaculate coated her fingers as she gripped the massive tool. One hand moved downward as the testicles drew up close to the male body. The hum of arousing energy spiked through her body.
The groans and murmurs of pleasure coming from the bed were clearer now, and she was no longer alone. The past now seemed her present, and her body was no longer female, but male in full, frontal arousal. She gripped the cock between her legs, no longer aware of her own physical form, so deeply entrenched in the essence of this room.
Come join us. She heard the whispered words of a husky, feminine voice.
The body she now inhabited rose from the chair and walked toward the bed.
A woman lay there, and a man rested at her side. She spread her legs and Korrie, through the eyes of the man, could see her glistening lips peel away to reveal her reddened, engorged clit.
I’m waiting, Athan. A moment of recognition spread through Korrie at the name the woman uttered, but she was thoroughly immersed in the trance and couldn’t seem to break out of the illusion. This body she inhabited climbed onto the bed and Korrie could smell the scent of roses mingled with sex flooding the air.
The head of the heavy cock stroked at the wet lips of the woman, then pressed slowly inside her channel. Korrie gasped at the sensation of being surrounded by the wet silken texture of a woman’s vagina. This was different than when she pleasured herself. So very different.
A strange feeling of masculine desire consumed her as the body thrust deep, retreated and thrust again, and she felt the cock tunnel through moist, pliant flesh. She felt the rhythm of his hips as he surged forward time and time again. She felt the orgasm rising inside him like a tidal wave that dragged her along in its wake. She heard the woman scream, echoed by the male groan of the body she inhabited, felt her own orgasm pulse deeply inside her. It was the most amazingly erotic moment she’d ever had in her life.
The next thing she remembered in that odd room was waking and finding herself in the middle of the huge bed, two fingers buried deeply inside her pussy, drenched with her fluid. She quickly rose from the bed and tried to reorient herself. She stared at the chair, then back at the bed. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before.
Something was different and she looked again, narrowing her gaze. Her heart pounded in her chest as she slowly rose from the bed and walked toward the chair. Her breath trapped in her throat, she reached down and picked up the journal lying there. Where had it come from?
She wasn’t the type to go into trances and have out-of-body experiences. It frightened her that it should happen now. There was something in that room that had tried to draw Korrie into the nucleus of the energy contained in this house.
Quickly, she snatched up the book and left the room, closing the door firmly behind her. Her heart thundered painfully against her ribs. She glanced down at the journal and with shaking hands opened the book to the first entry. It exactly matched the photographic copies her father had made. In her hands was the missing piece of the puzzle that she had yearned to find. She couldn’t believe it was resting in her hands. Someone in this house had wanted her to have it. But who?
She rushed down the hall to her own room. Hurrying inside, she slammed the door behind her. Peering down at her watch, she realized it was almost lunchtime, and Mrs. Grippen would look for her in the library. When she didn’t find Korrie there, she would come upstairs looking for her here.
She realized she’d been caught up in that episode in the master bedroom, within that trance, for almost a full hour. She didn’t want anyone finding her with the journal ‑‑ not just yet. This was too precious a discovery for her to make a mistake now. God, how she wanted to read it, to consume those last entries made by Sheba Ransom.
Patience. She was so close, and it wouldn’t do to rush things now. She went over to the small bag containing some essential supplies, that she always carried with her, and pulled out a roll of electrical tape. Moving back across the room, she pulled the dresser away from the wall. Anchoring the journal to the back, she then shoved the dresser back into place. The journal should be safe there for the time being. Tonight, when it was quiet, she would take her time in finally reading the words she’d waited years to find.
Hurrying down the stairs, she headed for the library. For now, until it was safe, she’d go ahead with what she’d planned for the afternoon. She wanted to look again at the books on genetics that she had noted on the shelves. Maybe there was some key, something stuck between the pages, some notation she had overlooked. A lot of people stuck notes in the pages of the books they were reading. She might find something of use.
As she walked into the library she thought about the incident in the bedroom, about the essence of the people involved in sexual intercourse on the bed.
It had to have been Cornelius and Sheba on the bed in the master bedroom. Didn’t it? But the name that the woman had called out ‑‑ Athan ‑‑ was an unusual name, and there was only one man she knew called by that name. At least there was only one man with that name, until her arrival at the estate and her discovery of the name of the current caretaker.
Too many questions yet to be answered. So much she didn’t understand. She wondered exactly what Paul had discovered while he’d been here. If he’d found anything of importance shouldn’t it have been noted in the file? Had Paul gone into that bedroom and experienced any strange occurrences? And who was this modern-day Athan? Was he more than simply a caretaker and were his ties to this place deeper than she had first imagined? Was he hiding something?
She had assumed that Sheba’s Athan had perished in the fire along with the Ransoms. But what if he hadn’t? The possibilities were mind-boggling. She needed to find hard evidence to support her suppositions before confronting him. There were too many unanswered questions.
An ache throbbed through her temples and down her neck, and she rubbed at her forehead as she reached the door of the library. She’d ask Mrs. Grippen to bring her a cup of tea, and she’d take a painkiller before the headache got out of hand.
Stepping inside, she closed the door behind her, shutting out the rest of the house. Coming around the side of the leather couch, she stopped dead in her tracks as she saw who was lying stretched out there reading a book. He set it down on the floor and slowly rose to a sitting position. She heard the couch creak, and the scent of leather filled her nostrils, along with somethin
g else she couldn’t quite identify.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded. Was he real or had she just conjured him up after her experience upstairs? She was fast losing her grip on reality in this place.
His searing gaze studied her closely. “Where should I be, Ms. Odell? Do you think the help shouldn’t have access to the house and library?” His smooth, deep voice tracked through her and she found herself stumbling over a response.
He made her feel uncomfortable. “It’s Dr. Odell. I-I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t expect to find you in here. Shouldn’t you be out weeding…or something?”
With a fluid motion, he rose to his feet like a predatory wolf, towering over her. “What has you so flustered?”
She sensed something different about him and an unusual scent clinging to the air. What was it? She stepped back. “I don’t know what you mean.”
His gaze sifted over her and suddenly she felt her nipples tighten with arousal and her pussy seeped excitement.
“Something isn’t right,” she said as she backed away from him. “Things don’t make sense.” She found herself backed up against a wall of ancient tomes. Athan moved closer and the fragrance and intensity of the atmosphere drenched her in desire.
“What doesn’t make sense, Korrie Odell?” His voice was a soft whisper that rushed through her like a gust of warm, summer wind just before a rising storm, and she gasped as her body responded unexpectedly.
“Don’t come any closer. Something’s not right, something…”
His large hands were at her waist, lifting her as though she weighed less than a feather, pressing her close to his hot body, his cock notched at her crevice. And his mouth descended to lock with hers, imprisoning her completely within a sensual vortex that left her dizzy and ungrounded.
Give him what he needs.
The words drifted through her mind. She had no idea where they came from, but she wanted to do exactly what they suggested.
The room spun and all she could do was wrap her arms around his neck and hold on tightly to keep herself from being swept away on the tide of Athan’s seduction.
His tongue drove deep into her mouth, tasting her, savoring her. She should break away, but couldn’t bring herself to do so. His hard body pressed her closer, pasting her along his length, his musky scent filling her nostrils.
Let him have you.
Her experience in the room upstairs had only teased her desire. She needed to feel Athan inside her. She felt herself moving as Athan turned and walked back to the sofa and spread her on it. She felt the course fabric of a wool blanket beneath her back.
Yield to him.
He stared down at her. Suddenly it was as if someone else took over her body ‑‑ yet again. Arching, she smoothed hands down over her aching breasts, cupped the dampness of her mound as she watched the molten look in his eyes deepen. Reaching up, she worked the button free on the front of his worn denims, peeled the zip open, and shoved his pants down over his hips. He dropped forward, reached under her skirt, and with one quick yank ripped off her panties. Shoving her skirt and slip up, he pressed her slick thighs open, opening and baring her to him. His hot hand cupped her, and she gasped when she felt a finger slide through her juices. Pure primal heat engulfed her as she arched her hips up to meet him, like a plant rising from beneath the earth to reach for the life-giving sun.
His eyes bored into her. “You’re wet. Do you want to be fucked, Korrie Odell?”
“Yes. Fuck me.” She was so hot, so turned on. She’d never felt like this before. She couldn’t wait, not an instant longer. She reached out to wrap her hand around his cock. It was just as she’d imagined upstairs. She remembered his silky, hot length, and she knew what it was going to feel like when he pressed it inside her. Knew exactly what to expect. “Now, Athan. Right now.”
A short rap at the library door shocked Korrie out of the sexual haze. Gasping as though she had been drenched by a bucket of cold water, she quickly released Athan and sprang up from the couch, stumbling and almost falling to the floor.
Athan yanked up his pants and refastened them before the door opened and Mrs. Grippen walked in carrying a tray with Korrie’s lunch.
Korrie shook with the aftermath of what she had just experienced, unsure exactly what had gotten into her. She pressed a shaking hand to her hair to smooth it into place, but she couldn’t turn around to face the other occupants of the room.
Oh my God, what did I almost do? She pressed the palms of her hands to her burning cheeks. What had gotten into her?
She could feel the dampness on her thighs, the sensitive brush of her labia lips, the vulnerability of her emotions. She whipped around and her guilty gaze searched frantically for the evidence she was no longer wearing.
Mrs. Grippen and Athan were standing by a table near the window overlooking the front lawn. She had to get herself together. There wasn’t a hint of her white undies anywhere to be found. Attempting to regulate her breathing, she could still feel the fierce heat of passion radiating from her face. There wasn’t much she could do about it now. Lifting her head and setting her jaw, she walked over to join them near the window.
“Thank you, Mrs. Grippen.”
Mrs. Grippen looked up from settling the sandwiches and tea on the table. “It’s no problem, Dr. Odell. I saw you when you came downstairs and thought you might be hungry. I hope you enjoy your lunch. I didn’t realize Athan would be here or I’d have prepared more food.”
“I won’t be staying,” she heard Athan respond, but it sounded as though it came from far away. Korrie still couldn’t quite get her bearings, still caught in the aftermath of sexual heat. She didn’t dare look at Athan.
Mrs. Grippen nodded. “If that will be all then. I’m baking a pie for dinner tonight and I really need to get back to the kitchen.”
“What kind?” she heard Athan ask with boyish interest evident in his tone.
Mrs. Grippen chuckled. “This boy has a sweet tooth to be sure. Huckleberry, and before you ask, I made an extra because I know how much you like it.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
She turned back to Korrie. “If you need anything else, just let me know.”
She shuffled out of the room. Korrie skirted around the table and took a chair, keenly feeling her lack of panties.
“I don’t know what just happened,” she said in a low tone, “but it won’t occur again.”
Athan didn’t move any closer, but she could feel his presence keenly. “Are you so certain?” He was silent for a moment. “What happened, Dr. Odell? Before you came into the library? It seemed to me you were already primed for a good fucking.”
Her attention shot to his face. “How dare you!”
Then he did move closer. “How dare I? My prick was in your soft, pretty hands. You wanted it. I could smell you. Are you going to deny it?”
She turned away to look out the window ‑‑ anywhere but at him. “I-I don’t know what came over me. There’s something about this place. I don’t understand it. I’ve never felt it before. There are ghosts here.” She turned to look at him. “And I think you know what it’s all about. But you aren’t saying, are you? Did Paul gain your confidence, Athan? Did you tell him what you know about this place?”
Athan reared back as though she had bitten him. “I have work to do. Enjoy your lunch, Ms. Odell.” He pivoted around and stalked out of the library.
She watched him until he’d left the room. Then she turned back to her plate, picked up half of the ham and cheese sandwich, and took a bite, no longer particularly hungry. Athan definitely knew something, and he was most certainly tied in some way to the Ransoms. She was just going to have to find out what it was.
Chapter Seven
Later that night Korrie pulled out the precious journal and opened it carefully. The house was quiet, and she was alone. Excitement built as she began to consume the words she had waited years to read.
August 22, 1943
Journal of
Sheba Ransom
I was right to fear the outcome of Cornelius’s plan. The pheromone enhancements have drawn more bees to the honey than we could have foreseen.
It was through my creation that the two men ‑‑ the bases we used to create the one known as Athan ‑‑ were fused. I had created that mythical essence known among my alchemical colleagues as the elusive Philosopher’s Stone. It is that magical essence, the true Elixir of Life, which has provided Athan his unique soul and the essence of immortality. Cornelius thought it was through his science alone ‑‑ through the conduit of electricity and man-made processes that our precious Athan had been formed.
I was afraid to tell him that I administered my concoction ‑‑ the purity of the golden elixir more true than I had ever seen. It was the instinct of rightness which made me give it to him that night and in the end made him an ageless being of absolute perfection.
Cornelius had gone to bed. He’d spent those first forty-eight hours after Athan’s revival monitoring his breathing, the rhythm of his heartbeats, and the patterns of the newly joined brain. I sent him to bed and took up the vigil, making notes of any changes, checking the stitches for assurance no infection set in and the IV line to be certain no air bubbles developed to destroy all our hard work.
It was near midnight that the irregularities in his heartbeat became evident and the brain wave patterns turned erratic, and I knew I must do something, and do it quickly. I had one last resort and so I went to my private lab, removed the element I had created the previous night, and administered it to Athan through the feeding tube. I had no idea if it would work, but some unseen hand guided me in its creation and I had to try.
I held my breath, afraid it would do no good, but within the hour all of his vital signs stabilized and his heartbeat returned to a strong and steady rhythm. I breathed a sigh of relief. If nothing else, it had halted the progression of fading life.
Body Parts Page 8