by Cerys du Lys
“Very pretty,” said Nigel. “But I’m afraid that’s not good enough. I want more than an apology. Order her to give me a blowjob.”
My stomach rose at the thought. There was a moment of silence, and I felt even sicker. Nick wouldn’t give such an order, would he? I hadn’t even given him a blowjob yet.
But I didn’t know the rules for this master/slave shit. Could one guy demand that another deal out a punishment of that sort? Dammit, I’d been a fool. Nick had told me I had to stay submissive, but I’d snarled at Nigel the first chance I’d got.
It struck me as I crouched on the floor that I actually wanted to practice my cock-sucking techniques on Nick. I hadn’t yet seen his cock, but I was sure it would be nice. He was my master, not the odious Nigel....
“The only person who touches my slave sexually is me,” Nick said in his usual cold voice.
“Whip her, then. She needs discipline. I’ll even provide my belt for the purpose. What an amusing spectacle it will be for our workers.”
Nigel was enjoying this. I suspected he cared a lot less about disciplining me than embarrassing Nick. But Nick kept his cool. He removed his foot from my back and fisted a hunk of my loose hair. “If I punish her, it’ll be in private. You may rise, slave.”
It probably looked as if he was dragging me to my feet, but it didn’t feel that way. He helped me. The room was swaying a bit, which was probably the result of my drinking too much raki. I’d never been much of a drinker. His arm went around my waist and he pulled me close.
“I didn’t agree to a private punishment,” Nigel said nastily.
“Tough,” Nick retorted. “Get your own slave if you want to have a say in such matters.” He smiled benevolently at the group of avid spectators, then seized my wrist and pulled me back into the area where the men had been dancing. “Come, my girl. I’m going to teach you to dance with all the joy of a Turkish nomad who has wandered for centuries on the steppes of Asia.”
Chapter 17
Ellie
As he led me to the dance area, Nick bent his head and whispered, “I will punish you, too, for being such an idiot.”
“Sorry,” I whispered back. “Thanks for not letting him hurt me.”
He gave me one of the first genuinely warm smiles I’d ever seen from him. “I’ll never let him hurt you.”
That helped a lot. I still didn’t know what game he was playing with his revolting cousin, but I guess I would take his word for it that there was a point to this masquerade. Oh, he had me under his spell, that much was true. I didn’t have much choice but to play along. But his smile and the dance helped temper my humiliation at having been forced to scrape the floor and apologize to the detestable Nigel.
Nick taught me the ancient rhythmic steps and movements. They were lazy and sensual, the beat of the music a quiet throbbing that escalated as we whirled around and around. It was hypnotic, relaxing. In a chain we danced, linking hands, a group of bandits, a golden god and a woman, all charmed into an acceptance of one another. The dance made us equal, the dance made partners of us all. In and out of the smoke and the shadows we glided, repeating the steps over and over while the tabor pounded, the oud twanged and the violin crooned.
I felt a slow sweat flower on my skin. My heart beat thickly; my red hair, now loose, swirled around my shoulders. The music intensified. The line broke and the dancers performed singly, not touching, but side by side. The steps no longer mattered as the drum sounds rose and quickened. I knew only that I had to keep my body moving in rhythm with the music, that it was a joy to do so. In the dance I forgot my doubts, my fears, my very self.
Then Nick held me and my spirit took flight. In the ecstasy of the dance, he and I were one. I was gone from my body, gone from the room, lost in a place of unearthly splendor. I whirled there joyously, but it wasn’t until Nick’s hands cupped my cheeks that I knew.
I had danced with him before, time out of mind.
He was my fantasy lover, my mate.
He was beautiful.
And he was perfect. Like an ancient alchemist, I knew the gold from the dross. He was gold, pure as fire. Together nothing could stop us; we completed each other; we were one flesh, one soul.
Total bullshit, I know. I was in a raki-inspired wonderland.
“Nick?”
His sculpted face leaned closer; he brushed his mouth across mine. I gasped and parted my lips. I felt the erotic invasion of his tongue.
I heard voices laughing, and shouting encouragement as Nick’s hands slid around my waist and drew me against his sweat-damp body. I felt his hard chest, his lithe and supple thighs, and the contact was sweet-sharp pleasure. Still moving to the music, he swayed his hips in sinuous half circles against mine while I slid my fingers into his gilt waves, holding his head still for my kiss.
The shouting, the laughter grew louder, closer. Others had stopped their own dancing to watch us. Nick murmured as he accepted the kiss, “My girl, I believe you’re drunk.”
I blinked and smiled at him, drunk on desire. Or raki. Or both. “Am I?”
“Assuredly. Hang on.” Shifting his weight, he scooped me up in his arms. There came more laughter, more shouts, all unintelligible sounding—my ability to translate from Turkish to English seemed to have disappeared. Someone, I thought, was having a very good time.
“What are you doing?” I asked as Nick strode through the smoky room, hardly seeming bothered by my weight in his arms. One of my shoes fell off and I wriggled my bare toes at Metin as we passed. He smiled to me and waved.
“Taking you to bed.”
The shouts and laughter faded as he carried me down a low, dark corridor, up a flight of stairs and into our room. He slammed the door and turned the key. The room was dark and silent, lighted only by the silvery gleam of a half-moon. Nick moved directly to the mattress on the floor and, dropping to his knees, lowered me upon it.
Keeping my arms around his neck, I pressed my face against his throat and inhaled the musky scent of him. “Are you coming, too?”
His chest heaved with a tight laugh. “Yes, I’m coming.”
“Okay,” I whispered. I released him, letting my body sink into the mattress. “I was afraid you were going to leave me alone in the dark.”
“No,” he said.
“Nick? Don’t ever leave me alone in the dark.”
Nick bent over and kissed my forehead. “I won’t, hayatim. I promise.”
Content, I closed my eyes. I felt him sliding my dress up my thighs to my waist, his hands warm and knowledgeable against my bare belly. I arched to help him pull the dress over my head. I felt no embarrassment or shame. I wanted him to look at me.
He didn’t touch my bikini panties or my bra. He left me for a moment, then returned. I opened my eyes a crack.
“I want you,” I whispered. I pushed myself back up to a sitting position and pressed my head against his thighs. I felt a little dizzy, but it wasn’t too bad. I knew what I needed to do. I think I’d needed it since the day we’d met.
I reached for his zipper and pulled it down. It wasn’t easy, because his cock was hugely swollen beneath my fingers, making his jeans tighter than they were meant to be. When I pried apart the snap at the top, his beautiful penis lunged out at me, and I giggled. He was going commando—no underwear.
I slid my fist around it and pumped a couple times, then sucked the head into my mouth. He sighed and grabbed my hair, pulling a little. I didn’t mind. I guess I just like it rough.
Which was good, because he surged into me, driving his hips into my face until I gasped for breath. It took me a few moments to catch his rhythm, but I’d always liked giving head and he tasted delicious to me. I made my lips as round and smooth as I could and sucked on him hard. When he withdrew, I used my tongue on the rim and the underside, and then opened wider for him as he pushed into me repeatedly. I dug my nails into his butt with one hand, and sought his balls with the other.
God, I was thirsty for him. I don’t know why
I wanted it so much, but I did. The more I sucked his penis, the more I wanted it in my pussy, which was now drenched and aching for him. He sped up, and I was afraid he’d come and that would be the end of it, the way it always had been with Mark.
But he groaned and pulled out. I tried to take him again, but he laughed and forced me flat on the mattress. He made short work of my underwear. Pressing my legs apart with his hips, he slid down and spread them even wider with his hands on my inner thighs. “Keep your legs apart for me, slave,” he ordered. “I want to fuck you with my tongue.”
I almost came. He made it sound so deliciously sexy. As his mouth moved over my sex, my hips arched up invitingly. I was burning down there. Lost in the ache of passion, wet and ready for him. He nuzzled gently at first, exploring my labia and delving in between. “God, you’re so wet for me,” he murmured as his tongue stabbed into me.
I gasped and arched even higher. I’d never had a boyfriend who really enjoyed giving oral, but Nick clearly did. Nothing had ever felt as good as what he was doing to me now. My head buzzed, my muscles flexed, crooning sounds emerged from my throat. When he moved the tip of his tongue to my clit, I think I screamed his name. A finger slid into my pussy and fucked me hard while his tongue kept rubbing and sucking at my clit, and pleasure boiled over, gushing from my core and melting my limbs right down to my fingers and toes.
I was still in the throes of my climax when he left me for a second. He was back quickly, tearing something apart, and I realized it was a condom. I watched, still writhing with the final pulses of climax as he rolled it on his beautiful cock. That was going inside me. I reached for him, wanting it. I was lost in the dreamy feeling that this was right and that everything was just as it should be.
Nick
The floor rolled a little as I struggled with the condom, and I thought, damn this boat before I remembered we weren’t on the fucking boat. Too much raki. Ellie was flying on the stuff, and I was none too sober either. Which probably meant I shouldn’t be doing what I was about to do.
I hadn’t intended it. The gods knew I’d been trying my best not to force myself on Ellie. She was so damn vulnerable, so brave, so alone. She was turning to me tonight only because she was besieged and desperate and there wasn’t anybody else.
But her body was sweet and slender, and I needed her so much. She’d danced like a Gypsy princess, all proud and loose and limber, her wild fiery hair whipping the air around her as she twirled. She was passionate, a wavering flame that could easily ignite into brilliant, fervent fire. And she’d just exploded, keening out her pleasure in a voice that had just about melted my heart. It delighted me that I could show her that not all our interactions had to be crude or rough.
Images of the crude and rough things I yearned to do to her surfaced. Bind her, spread her wide, tease her until she begged for release. Spank her. Whip her. Force her to gratify every dark desire I had ever fantasized about. I clenched my fingers into fists, resisting those shadowy impulses. I’d never had trouble controlling myself before, but for some reason Ellie turned me into a hound yanking at an ever-tightening chain.
Her eyes were closed once again, accepting, trusting. She must be amazingly sweet-natured or she’d never have accepted me after all the shit I’d put her through. I gathered myself, all my discipline, all my self-control, trying to resist the urge to fall on her and bury my cock just as deep as it would go. Deeper. I wanted to plow her, ravage her, fuck her insensible. Her soft lips curved in a tantalizing smile, and fuck, I was so lost. I was going to take her despite my qualms. She’d probably hate me in the morning when the raki had cleared her system. I might even hate myself, but right now I didn’t care. Let me have the night, then let the morning come and do its worst.
I slid naked into bed beside her. As I threw my thigh over her legs, I reveled in the smooth, silky feel of her bare skin against mine. Oh, God, she was sweet. Small, slim, light boned and lovely. She smelled like summer. Her fragrant hair was like wine.
Impatient, I stroked her breasts. Beneath my fingers, her skin felt warm and smooth, but she didn’t stir as I caressed her.
“Ellie?”
No reply. Her chest moved slowly up and down with her breath.
“Ellie?” I groaned, realizing that her climax and the alcohol combined had sent her plunging into sleep.
Fuck! I could probably wake her, but damn, look at me. Condom on and ready to go. It was fucking hilarious. What the hell was happening to me? I knew myself for a worshiper of mind, of intellect, yet here I was, just as much as any other man, held in thrall to the demands of my unruly flesh. With Ellie, especially. She drove me nuts.
What was it about her? I couldn’t recall ever having felt like this.
Oh, Ellie. Asleep. Why did I let her drink so much raki? Why had I swallowed so much myself? And why the fuck had I stopped her when she was giving me one helluva great blowjob? I should have just let myself come in her mouth.
I rolled off her, ripped off the condom and tossed it on the floor. Then I stroked myself with my trusty right hand, because there was no way I was falling asleep beside her with a hard-on this fierce. She didn’t wake as I desperately got myself off. Not even my loud groan as I came made her stir. Damn. It was better than nothing, but it wasn’t what I wanted. Even after I was empty, the feel of her beside me started stoking me right back up again.
Curling myself around her, I began conjugating Latin verbs—the least erotic pastime I could imagine. Amo, amas, amat, I muttered over and over until sleep came at last to end my torment.
Chapter 18
Ellie
I awoke with a start, vaguely aware that something was wrong. I felt cold. Rolling more snugly into the blanket, I opened my eyes and gazed around the bare room. I could tell from the amount of light coming through the window that it was early morning. Nick, with his back to me, was just stepping into his jeans. I got a yummy flash of naked limbs before the blasted clothing covered his legs and ass.
Evidently, he had just left the bed. The sheets were still warm from his body. I was cold because he was no longer there beside me.
Nick zipped his jeans and snapped them, then, still shirtless, he dropped to the floor and did a series of push-ups. I blinked at the sight of the powerful muscles in his arms flexing as they absorbed his weight. He obviously had no idea I was awake. He worked out hard and fast, doing press after press, until droplets of sweat shone on his back.
He rolled over and did a bunch of sit-ups, hands behind his head. Then he raised his legs and bicycled. I was leaning on my elbow, watching and enjoying as he sprang to his feet and began punching the air and moving in a silent martial arts drill. His face had grown intent, his dancelike movements clean and graceful, his concentration complete.
I tried to recall the feel of that strong, lithe body covering me, separating my thighs, holding me still and thrusting inside. Had it happened? Surely not. I remembered drinking; I remembered dancing; I remembered his carrying me back to this room. I remembered the thrill of his cock filling my mouth, and the intense pleasure of his fingers and tongue on my sex. I remembered a powerful, mind-spinning orgasm. But after that? Shit, I didn’t know what had happened next.
“Nick?”
He broke off in the middle of a stylized lunge and turned to face me. He was breathing rapidly from the exercise, but he had no difficulty talking. “You’re awake? After last night, I figured you’d sleep till noon.”
I groaned and massaged my aching head with my palm. “What happened last night?”
“You mean you don’t know?”
“Um, not entirely. Did we, you know...”
“Did we fuck?” Nick pushed a floppy lock of sweat-drenched hair out of his eyes and hunkered down beside me. He bent over and kissed me lightly on the side of one cheek. “For shame. I exert myself all night on your behalf, going page by page through the Kama Sutra, and it makes no impression upon you at all?”
I laughed. “I’m sure I’d have remembered t
hat.”A vague image of him wearing a condom came back to me, and I winced because that was as far as my memories seemed to stretch.
“I’m insulted.”
I noted the merriment in his sea-green eyes. It was so unusual to see such a thing in him that I wondered if I had wandered into Bizarro World. I reached under the sheets to feel myself down there. If we’d fucked all night, I’d have been a bit sore, surely. “Did I fall asleep on you?”
He sighed, his gold-dusted chest fascinating me. “You had a massive orgasm and fell unconscious. We slept together as chastely as if we’d taken holy vows. Just imagine how pissed you’d be if our roles had been reversed.”
“Oops. Sorry. And you didn’t...” My question trailed off as his merriment was replaced with a look of irritation.
“No. Unconscious is not willing.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. For an amoral criminal, he was surprisingly faithful to the promise he had made to me.
“It’s pouring rain,” he said, opening the shutter on the window. “I was going to take you to the excavation site, but it’s a bit of a hike. I’m going to go myself, though. I want to see exactly what the crew has discovered in the way of ‘Trojan treasures,’ and where they’re finding the stuff.”
I did my best to cope with the change in mood and subject. If he’d wanted it, I would have let him join me in bed now. But it didn’t sound as if he cared much about the pleasure he’d missed. What a contradictory man he was! “You sound more skeptical today, as if you’re in doubt about the find.”
“One gold earring doesn’t prove much. It may have come here through other means entirely.” After a moment, he added, “I’ll leave you with my grandfather, if you think you can handle that.”
I wasn’t thrilled with the prospect. After discovering Nigel’s two-faced nature, I wasn’t sure how I felt about Sir Avery. His attempt last night to justify himself hadn’t succeeded. I felt sorry for his straitened circumstances, yes, but surely that was no excuse for thievery. “I thought I wasn’t safe without you nearby to protect me.”