by Mary Wine
They all wanted to touch her, stroking her softly with their fingertips as more women came to join them. They pulled the remaining pins from her hair and combed it gently before washing it. The soap was held in coconut shells and smelled like the fruit too. By the time they finished bathing her, there wasn’t part of her they hadn’t touched.
She should have been mortified; instead, she was intoxicated by the uniqueness of the moment. It was like being back in the Garden of Eden. There was no shame, only playfulness. Little girls scampered about, no one snapping fingers at them to be silent. Instead, their laughter made Janette smile. The air was balmy and warm, making clothing unnecessary.
Janette couldn’t seem to soak up enough details; there were so many differences between them that she found fascinating. She wanted to know everything in a moment, wanted to absorb the feeling of the water and the sand beneath her bare feet, and even the way her body felt without anything but the sunshine against it.
Fine, she was wicked, and yet she couldn’t agree with what she knew her society would have said about her. What made England’s view on propriety any more correct than the native girls surrounding her with their seashell necklaces and bare breasts? The truth was she was enjoying her adventure too much to judge it.
Once she was clean, the girls pulled her up and onto the rocks so that her hair would dry. The sun began to sink on the horizon as the birds called to one another. The girls were all excited, chattering and giggling. They added flowers to their unbound hair and to hers as well. Other women were weaving long strips of leaves into skirts the girls tied about their hips. They shook from side to side, sending the strips of leaves swishing, and the air filled with a rustling sound. Once it was dark, drums began to beat back at the village. Crimson light flickered on the trees to announce a fire.
“Come…come…” Janette felt the first stab of concern puncturing her moment of enjoyment. The village was full of men, and she had only a loincloth on.
But the girls were clearly excited. They smiled and took her along with them as the light of fires shimmered ahead. Straight out of a fiction novel, the village looked like a savage stronghold. The red and gold flames sent dancing light over carved images of pagan idols. In the darkness, the stones set into the eyes of the wooden masks glittered in the firelight.
The beating of the drums added to the moment, easily carrying her away on a pounding that was in time with her own heartbeat. The girls all began to keep rhythm with the drummers, their hips jerking and moving as the men used bare hands to play the drums. She was caught in the middle of them, moving along almost without consent as they increased their dancing in response to the tempo.
It was wild, and in the middle of it, Darius sat near an older man who looked important. He had a silver chain around his neck and a headdress adorned with what looked like tusks of wild pigs. Darius sat in the same manner as the man next to him, with his legs folded, on a mat woven from dried palm leaves. The firelight illuminated his bare chest, sending a bolt of desire through her. It was twisting inside her like some living force.
He sat watching her—not the women performing with far more skill, but her. His dark gaze was on her breasts and her hips. Heat spread up her body, and she felt need building inside her. She wanted to entice him, wanted to inspire lust in him. Wanted to be only herself, not the person she’d always been groomed to be. Just a woman, free of society, because deep down inside, she was the same as every woman before her—from any society throughout history.
The women all jerked and swished, their breasts bouncing with their motions, and it set off an intense desire inside her. It began to pound through her blood, her nipples hardening while her clitoris throbbed. She finally understood what the matrons referred to as brain fever. It consumed her, driving away all thoughts of decorum.
And she didn’t care.
Like any lunatic, she was happy in her insanity. In fact, she was proud. It was primitive, this desire to have Darius as her lover once more. Her passage heated, the folds of her sex becoming moist. She lifted her arms, reaching for what she desired as her hips mimicked the motions of making love.
Darius surged to his feet. The older man beside him laughed, but Janette didn’t have time to look at anyone save Darius. He closed the space between them, the women parting to allow him a path to her. They didn’t stop dancing, though. They raised their arms to the night sky, and the drums continued at a frantic pace until Darius hoisted her off her feet and spun her around.
Her unbound hair flew in a wide circle before he lowered her. But her feet never touched the ground. He cradled her against his chest and carried her away from the dancing and into one of the huts that ringed the center of the village.
The sound of the drums followed them. It was so loud, it felt like it shook the very air around them. Janette wanted to remain immersed in the pounding tempo. She reached up, sliding her hands along the column of his throat before pressing a kiss to his warm skin. A soft growl was his response, and it fanned the flames of her desire. She reached for his shoulders, gripping them to pull herself up and kiss farther up on his throat.
He gripped her hips and pressed her back against a thick support beam, spreading her thighs with his body to the delight of her raging need. Her clitoris ached, her passage feeling empty. The hard bulge of his cock was pressing against her slit, teasing her with how swollen it was. The thin layer of his loincloth was suddenly frustrating her to the point of desperation.
“I need to be inside you, Janette.”
He was growling, and her kisses turned hard.
“Then be inside of me,” she answered. It was a demand, rising from the wildness surging through her. There was only her need for him, being driven by the pounding drums. She thrust toward him, grinding against his erection.
“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed before pushing her back and ripping the fabric out from between them. He pressed her against the beam at her back with his chest, flattening her breasts and sending another white-hot shaft of need through her.
“Tonight is perfect. You are perfect.”
He thrust deep, sending pleasure through her. She groaned, too caught in the web of sensations to remain silent. Her spine arched, and her head tipped back. He pulled free before returning to her with a hard motion of his hips.
“Together, we are perfect…” she purred.
He said softly, “Exactly.”
Their skin slapped together, adding to the intensity of the moment. There was only pleasure and the hard motion of his hips, driving in and out of her body. She met him on every thrust, moving in time with the music and his demands. Her need had become desperate, the churning desire tightening beyond anything she’d felt before. Every muscle she had felt tight enough to snap, and still he continued to thrust against her. She could feel the pleasure waiting to burst, but it held off, making her frantic for release. With a final effort, it spilled over her like a cauldron of hot water, burning a path along her body, not missing a single inch as she twisted and contorted.
Darius tightened his grip on her hips as his seed began to fill her. She gasped again, a second wave of delight ripping through her belly. This one was deeper, the walls of her passage tightening around his cock to pull every last drop of seed from it. Her head sank onto his shoulder, her body a quivering mass as she tried to breathe. Beneath her hands, she could feel him shaking too.
He pressed a kiss against her neck, and she heard him draw in a deep breath before he straightened.
“So now you know, Janette. I am no gentleman, and quite happy about it. You wondered why I always warned you away? It’s because I will embrace the moment, and I will not apologize for it.”
He cradled her against his chest, walking through the dark hut and laying her in a sleeping net. He stroked her face, his touch gentle and tender.
“But that’s what draws me to you, Darius. You offer me freedom, and I adore it.”
The net swayed, making it impossible to resist falling into sl
eep. The drums faded into the distance as satisfaction carried her off on tiny ripples of pleasure.
Darius stared at her. She didn’t mean it. Couldn’t have.
Doubt was a vicious demon, and it was running loose through him in that moment. It tore at the firm conviction that no lady could accept him just as he was. Tomorrow, when she was back in civilization, she’d turn her nose up. All he’d be left with was the memory of how free she’d been while no one was looking.
But there was part of him demanding proof that she wouldn’t accept him. It became a challenge that burned through his doubt, and he looked back at her sleeping form.
Tomorrow. Morning light would show him the truth of the matter.
***
She heard the crystals.
Janette opened her eyes to see that the sun wasn’t up enough to light the inside of the hut very well. But she heard the humming. She rolled out of the sleeping net and landed on her feet. She’d slept in only the loincloth, and her breasts were still bare to enjoy the cool morning air.
“You’ll want to cover up.”
Darius was outside the hut, but he’d heard her.
“I hear crystals.”
He moved into view and pointed up. “Lykos has sent out small airships in search of us. They had to wait until first light, though.”
Good.
Her cheeks turned pink as the memories of last night erupted in full color. Darius didn’t miss her blush.
“I’ll see what I can find for you to wear. Your clothing was tattered, and I believe the women tore it up to make good-luck charms. They believe you were sent by the water goddess Kapo, and I am your lover consort, Kanaloa.”
“That’s the first time I’ve been royally treated.” She heard the hiss of steam and stepped toward the doorway. Darius put his arm out to bar her way.
“I’ll find you something.”
“Why?” she demanded before ducking under his arm and walking into the morning light. “You aren’t wearing any more than the village men. I’d rather not have them thinking I’m a prude. Or that I can’t keep pace with you, Darius Lawley.”
She hesitated for only a moment before enjoying the warmth of the sun on her bare chest. Wicked. But she would not be called a coward. More importantly, she would not lie on her deathbed lamenting the adventures she’d turned her nose up at. Darius chuckled, and she turned to find him watching her. There was a sparkle of enjoyment in his dark eyes, which thrilled her.
“You are perfection, Miss Aston.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Formality is somewhere”—she waved her hand in the direction of Britain—“very far away. Call me something…more personal.”
One dark eyebrow rose. His eyes narrowed. “Mine,” he pronounced with a clear ring of savageness in his voice.
She clapped her hands together. “Perfect.”
High above, a smaller airship was drifting toward them. Thick columns of steam rose from twin stacks on either side of the passenger compartment. Several of the windows were propped open, and men leaned out with binoculars.
Darius raised his arm, completely at home in his native attire. She stared at him, absorbing the raw magnetism. She could feel it—actually taste it—and when he turned to stare at her, she felt her pride rising. Reflected in his eyes was approval.
“I suppose we must return.”
His expression tightened. “Regrettably, yes.”
He reached out and stroked her cheek. “You wouldn’t be safe here, but the idea of remaining is still intoxicating.”
There was another blast of steam and a long hissing sound. The airship descended, sending the villagers scattering. A ladder was pushed over the side of the passenger compartment. Darius reached up and grabbed it.
“But everything ends,” he announced before the ladder lowered enough for her to grab it. His tone was tight, and by the time she reached the top of the ladder, his stony expression was one she recalled too well. The duty-bound Guardian had returned, and it seemed she was once more just another task on his list.
Pain tore through her. It centered over her heart, and there wasn’t a single glimmer of hope in his dark eyes to relieve it.
“The ride will be intense, but it will have to end eventually. Reality will be waiting, I assure you. The sun will rise, and consequences will be illuminated.”
His words rose from her memory, and she felt the harsh bite of consequences taking their toll. The passenger compartment of the airship was full of Guardians, their badges pinned to their vests.
Yes, reality had certainly arrived.
***
“You’re young and impressionable,” Guardian Cyrus Vettel offered.
“You needn’t make it sound like an accusation.” Janette found herself uncomfortable in the dress and its layers of undergarments. It was certainly a curiosity how quickly she had become accustomed to wearing none of it.
“You were hunting crystals for the Helikeians,” Guardian Cyrus Vettel muttered drily.
“She was attempting to rescue her friend,” Darius interjected.
They weren’t in a true Solitary Chamber. Instead, they stood near the doorway of a building under construction. But the makeshift hearing lacked none of the tension she would have felt if it were being conducted back in London. Guardians were set to guard her as Guardian Vettel considered her from behind a stone-hard expression. Lykos and Decima silently surveyed her as well.
“If you hadn’t refused to take the Oath, I might be more inclined to be sympathetic.”
“If the lot of you would stop viewing her as a commodity instead of as a person, my fiancée might be more inclined to pledge her life to the Order.”
Guardian Vettel pointed a finger at Darius. “Is this man your fiancé or not?”
“I am,” Darius confirmed.
“I will hear it from her lips, Guardian Lawley,” Vettel insisted.
Janette suddenly laughed. Darius and Vettel eyed her disapprovingly. “You will not hear anything of the sort because who I choose to have in my bed is none of your Order’s affair.”
Guardian Vettel opened his mouth, but Janette interrupted him.
“As for the Oath of Allegiance, I will complete my training year. That is my right, laid down in the laws of the Illuminist Order. As for any of you who do not care for my choice, I suggest you invest more time in treating me like a member instead of a thing to be controlled. Now I am going to see my friend.”
She turned her back on them and their impromptu trial. It was a daring move, but the Guardians moved out of her way. Each step took her farther away from Darius. Her feet felt heavy, but she continued onward.
She was an Illuminist—she had rights, the same as any male member of the Order.
You’re a woman in love…prey to the same weakness as other women…
A hard hand caught her upper arm. Darius spun her around to face him as Lykos and Decima sent the others away from them. He pulled her around the corner of the building.
“Damn us both, Janette.”
She pushed at his chest, but he held her tight. “So you’ve told me, Darius.” She wanted to push him away, wanted to insist he release her, but instead, her hands curled into his vest. “I won’t take the Oath now. Nothing you say will change my mind.”
Surprise lit his eyes for a moment before savageness flickered in them. “I don’t give a damn about the Oath.”
“Then why are you stopping me from seeing if Sophia is well?” Why was he insisting on tormenting her with his touch? It seemed unbearable now.
“If you’re going to reject me, Janette, do it to my face.”
He was growling, and suddenly her temper flared up. She lifted her arms and brought them down on top of his wrists just like she’d learned in Asian fighting class. He let out a profane word as his grasp on her biceps broke.
“Reject you?” She stabbed him in the center of his chest with one finger. “You’re the one who continues to warn me away.”
“You are the
one who just refused to acknowledge me as your fiancé.”
She felt like steam could have risen from her ears, her temper was so hot. “You never asked me to marry you, Darius. You just said it because you were doing your duty to protect me. Well, I’m going to be an Illuminist, and marriage is only for love. I don’t want to be your duty wife.”
“It wasn’t duty that prompted me to say such. It was the fact that I just couldn’t tolerate having you taken away from me.” He leaned closer, pushing her back with his superior size. “Tell me you don’t love me, Janette, and I’ll walk away, but it will tear my heart wide open because I sure as hell wouldn’t have said we were engaged if I didn’t love you. Soft, flowery words are not my way.”
He captured her arms again, pulling her against his chest before planting a hard kiss against her surprised lips. She was slow to respond because she was too busy sorting through what he’d said. But her body knew what it wanted, and it was deeper than just desire. She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck, and trembled as she kissed him back.
“Why are you kissing me back, Janette?” he asked, but there was a need in his eyes that betrayed him.
She had never seen anything so sweet. She tilted her head and kissed his hand where it was still holding her neck. “Because I love you.”
Surprise registered on his face. “But—”
“But nothing, you arrogant man,” she admonished him softly. “Do stop telling me what to think, Darius.”
He shook his head, but she cupped his face. Rising onto her toes, she pressed a soft kiss against his lips. She slipped out of his embrace and walked around the wall. The rest of the Guardians were clearly waiting for her.
“He is my fiancé.”
Her choice, her lover, and the man she loved. Perfection truly could be found on Earth.
***
“These glasses are too dark,” Sophia muttered.
“You can change to lighter ones in a week or so,” Bion told her.
Janette watched her friend aim a frustrated glare at the First Officer—except Bion was a passenger now. They were returning to London on a different airship than the one they’d arrived on.