by Anna Hackett
He finished washing out his hair, and he watched the way her gaze followed his movements. There was hunger on her pretty face.
This wild, vibrant woman wanted him.
Desire beat hotly in Oliver’s blood. He slid his palm over his stomach and took his cock in hand. He stroked himself.
Percy’s lips parted, her hungry gaze on his hand.
Unable to stop, Oliver kept pumping his cock. He imagined it was her touching him. Her gaze never wavered from his hand and cock. She didn’t look away shyly or pretend she hadn’t seen.
No, Persephone Blake was direct, and she always went after what she wanted.
He watched as she slid off the rock and jumped into the water, fully clothed. She started swimming toward him.
Persephone had learned pretty early in life to not want too many things. To not care too much.
People had left her disappointed too many times, and she’d learned the hard way that things you cared about could easily be lost or snatched away. Too often, she’d been left empty-handed.
Nope, life had taught her to depend on herself. If you did want something, you went after it yourself, and you tried not to care about it too much.
Right now, all she wanted was Oliver Ward.
She wanted every glorious, firm inch of him. And dammit, she cared. Too much.
Pushing through the water, she let her gaze run over his muscled body. He wasn’t musclebound, like he was always in the gym, but he clearly worked out and took care of himself. He had the body of an athlete, with a firm chest, muscular arms, and toned abs. He was seriously screwing up her stereotype of a stuffy historian.
She swallowed, need pumping through her, leaving her lightheaded and breathless. Screw it all. She was done being careful. Right now, she was throwing caution to the wind.
She reached him and stepped up onto the flat rock he was standing on.
God, he looked even better up close. She didn’t know if he grabbed her or if she grabbed him, but suddenly they were kissing. She pressed her palms to his slick chest, and his hands were tearing at her clothes.
He made short work of her shirt and bra, tossing them onto a nearby rock. Then strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her up. She slid her hands into his wet hair just as he lifted her a few inches higher. He licked one of her nipples and sucked it into his mouth.
“Yes.” Her hands twisted in his hair.
“I’ve wanted to do that ever since I first laid eyes on you.” He sucked on her nipple, tongue lapping.
Sensation exploded through Persephone and she moaned.
“I’ve been half hard ever since you crashed into my life,” he growled.
She was panting now. “Only half?”
He growled again. “Not right now.”
He set her down and opened her trousers. A second later, he skimmed them down her legs. Yes. She needed to be naked. She needed to feel this man against her, skin to skin.
She kicked the trousers away, and Oliver grabbed them before the water washed them into the depths of the pool. He tossed them with the rest of their clothes.
Naked, they stood there, staring at each other. Water washed over his skin in rivulets. She watched the streams run down, past his rock-hard cock that was standing firm against his belly. Down the strong columns of his thighs.
She reached for his cock. His beautiful, smooth cock. She started stroking it.
“Not so fast,” he ground out.
“Now. I need you.” She felt so damn needy. She needed him to douse this fire.
“I don’t want to rush it,” Oliver said, his mouth nipping her neck.
For Persephone, sex had always been quick, fun tumbles. She looked into his blue eyes and saw some emotion churning there. This…this was something else.
He scooped her up and then walked through the curtain of water. A ledge of flat rock sat behind it. He set her on it, the falling curtain of water giving them a sense of privacy.
She looked into his eyes. They were so intense. So possessive.
Something inside her stuttered and she reached for his cock. “I need you inside me.”
She knew they only had this moment. This adventure. A man like Oliver Ward would never stay around. Not with a woman like her. She felt a sharp pain somewhere around the region of her heart.
Then he was kissing her again. His warm lips caressed her breasts, and he sucked on her nipples until she was panting. This wasn’t what she was used to. Emotions battered at her and she tried to reach for him again. His talented mouth moved down her belly, and she arched up. Then, he was nudging her legs apart.
“We aren’t fucking fast and hard, Percy.” Before she could draw a breath, his mouth was on her, licking at her folds.
Oh. God. He started sucking, his mouth finding her swollen clit.
“I’m going to worship you. Going to drive you wild.”
Panic fluttered in her chest. She liked control. “I…can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” He groaned against her and kept licking.
Persephone didn’t have time to prepare herself. Her orgasm was roaring closer, with every lick and suck. It was like being tossed into the air with no safety net. She ground herself against his mouth, crying out his name. The pleasure was too much.
Persephone exploded.
When she was able to see again, she was sprawled on the rock, Oliver’s tense face above hers.
Desire was etched deep on his face, his lips still glistening with her juices. She’d never seen anything so sexy. She reached for him.
His big body moved, nudging between her legs. She lifted her head and watched as he notched his cock between her thighs.
“I don’t have any condoms.” His voice was a gritty rasp.
Persephone knew her body well, and if she’d learned anything about Oliver, it was that he was a good, trustworthy man.
“Come inside me, Oliver. I need you.”
He lunged forward, his cock lodging deep.
Her mouth opened. “Oliver!”
“Take me.” He shoved into her again.
Persephone felt her body stretching to accommodate him. “I am.”
He pressed his hands to the rock on either side of her, taking her with wild thrusts. Her charming scholar was gone, and in his place was a hard, ruthless lover with need riding him. Need for her.
This wasn’t sex or loving. This was a possession.
Persephone wrapped her legs around his hips. As this big, gorgeous man moved inside her, something deep within her trembled.
Then the heated sensations started to build inside her again. She gripped him tighter, husky cries ripping from her throat and echoing in the air. She reached up, wrapping her arms around him. As another orgasm exploded through her, she opened her mouth to scream. But his lips were there, swallowing her cry. She raked his back with her nails.
With another hard thrust and a deep groan, he came inside her.
Chapter Six
What the hell was that? Oliver’s chest was working like bellows. Jesus.
He tried to get his legs functioning again. He managed to lever himself off Persephone’s prone body. Her eyes were closed, her head turned to the side, and her face flushed.
He lifted her and lowered them both down into the water. When his cock slipped out of her, she moaned.
Dammit, he was still hard. That had never happened before, even when he’d been a randy teenager.
Suddenly, Oliver felt a violent need to imprint his claim on this woman. To show her that she belonged to him. He was well aware that Persephone Blake lived her life on her own terms and depended on no one. Hell, it was one of the things he admired about her.
But he wanted her to trust him. To depend on him.
The primal need beat through him. The thought of her waltzing away from him after this, like what they shared meant nothing, made him growl.
“Oliver?”
He gripped her hips, turned her around, and pressed her belly against the rock where he’d
just fucked her. Her pretty ass was out of the water, and he stroked the firm curves of it. She made a low sound, pushing back against his palms. He slid his hand down, stroking between her thighs. He found her clit, rolling it between his fingers.
She jerked and let out a deep, husky cry. She looked back at him over her shoulder. “You still raring to go?” She licked her lips. “Professor, you are full of surprises.”
Her tone was teasing, but there was something serious in her eyes. He pushed two fingers inside her and her body clenched on him.
“Brace yourself.” His voice was guttural.
She froze, her breath coming in pants. “You look…dangerous.”
“I’d never hurt you, Percy. But right now, I’m going to fuck you hard.”
She licked her lips again and opened her legs, pushing her ass back at him.
Oliver growled, gripping her hips. He watched as she pressed her cheek to the stone. In surrender to him.
He leaned forward and slammed his cock inside her.
She grunted and pushed back. “More.”
He started pumping into her. She was wet and tight and glorious. Merciless desire drove him, like the primal beat of the jungle had ignited something deep inside.
But he knew it was all Percy.
As he thrust inside her, Oliver lost track of time. He lost track of how many times she’d climaxed.
Sensations gathered inside him—hot, hard, unstoppable. With a shout, his release rolled through him and he came again with a deep roar.
“God.” He collapsed on her. Unable to do more, he tangled his hand in her hair and turned her face toward him. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
“Not quite the mild-mannered archeologist I thought you were,” she murmured sleepily.
He pressed his lips to hers again. “Not with you, sweetheart.”
Right then, Percy’s stomach growled. Oliver pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder and felt another feeling overtake him. The need to take care of her.
“I’d better feed you.” He tried to pretend that the Earth hadn’t just shifted under his feet, and stood. “Then, we’d better keep moving. I’d be happier if we put some more distance between us and our friends before we find someplace to camp for the night.”
She stood, heedless of the fact that she was naked. She scooped up some water and splashed it against her chest.
His gaze slipped down, taking in her small, firm breasts and noticing a few red patches where the rock had abraded her skin. He gently pulled her into the water and took over splashing water on her. As he gently washed between her legs, she watched him, her cheeks pink.
Persephone had no problem with raunchy sex, but anything approaching intimacy appeared to scare her.
She’d been alone a long time. He was planning to change that.
Back on the riverbank, they set their clothes out to dry. Oliver pulled on fresh clothes and offered her a clean shirt. They ate together, sitting on the edge of the pool, both of them staring down at the red river below.
“So, what’s our next move?” He arched his head to look at the black cliffs towering above them.
She pointed upward. “We need to get up there.”
He frowned. “Have you got some secret climbing gear that I don’t know about?”
“Nope.” She grinned. “But we don’t need it. Look.” She pointed behind him.
Oliver swiveled. He looked at the black rocks of the cliff. They were overgrown with vines and other plants. “What?”
Percy bounded up and gently pushed some vines back.
He hissed in a breath. “Damn.”
Crude stairs had been cut into the cliff face. They were old and weathered by time. The vines, moss, and other growth had almost completely obscured them. But not, it seemed, from Percy’s eagle eyes.
“Fancy a bit of hot, sweaty exertion?” she asked.
“I think we already exerted ourselves in the waterfall.”
She smiled. “True.”
He stood and grabbed his backpack and machete. “But yes, I’m ready.”
They quickly packed up. Oliver watched Percy pull her damp trousers back on and wince, but she didn’t complain.
At the base of the stairs, Oliver hacked away at the vines.
“Let’s go,” he said.
The stairs were rough and wet. In places, old, rotting leaves had accumulated. It was a slick and dangerous climb.
Halfway up, Oliver was soaked in sweat, and his muscles were burning. But then he heard Percy laugh.
He looked back at her. She was having the time of her life, and he smiled. With this woman by his side, Oliver had never felt so alive.
Persephone woke up, once again plastered against Oliver’s bare chest.
He was still asleep, and she took the chance to look at him without the full force of his blue eyes and personality shining on her.
The man was so handsome. He had strong bones that would help him age well.
She shifted a little, feeling an avalanche of aches and twinges come alive in her body. Some from their mad jungle dash and the harrowing, slow climb up the cliff. Some from Oliver sliding that sizable cock of his inside her body.
Persephone released a long breath. By the time they’d made it to the top of the cliff, daylight was already waning, and they’d both been tired. They’d decided to set up the small tent and get some rest.
The tent was only designed for one, so it was a tight fit, but Oliver made the most of it. He ended up getting her naked again and had her screaming against his mouth. She blew out a shuddering breath. It hadn’t been sex or fucking, which were the only things Persephone had experience with. What she and Oliver had done had been something else. Something that scared her.
She shook her head, lifting a hand to stroke his cheek, his stubble scratchy under her fingers. It didn’t scare her enough to back away. She couldn’t keep him, but she could enjoy him while he was hers. After this crazy adventure, Dr. Oliver Ward would go back to Denver, be the darling of his university, marry a well-bred woman, and have a nice, sensible life.
Persephone swallowed against the rock in her throat. He was so beautiful, his handsome face relaxed in sleep.
A fierce, hot feeling burned in her chest. For now, he was hers, and she was taking everything she could get. Making memories that she could take out and cherish when she was sitting on her white-sand beach.
She stroked her hands down his chest, sliding down his body. She pressed a kiss to his hipbone before she cupped his beautiful cock. She wasted no time sucking him into her mouth.
He woke with a groan.
“Percy.” His hand clenched in her hair, but he didn’t pull her off him, or take over. He let her keep working him, licking and sucking.
She felt how tense he was, his body on the edge, and about to come. Then he yanked her upward, pulling her to straddle him.
He was flat on his back, and Persephone lifted her hips and sank down on his cock.
They both groaned, and then Oliver curled up, rising to kiss her. She moved her hips, riding him slowly, and their gazes locked. His eyes didn’t move away from hers as they made love. She took him deep inside her body, savoring the growing warmth in her belly.
She heard his breathing change, and the sensations in her coalesced to a sharp point.
“Percy.” His hands clamped on her hips, driving her down.
Her climax raced through her, and they both cried out. As she came, she felt him spurting inside her.
When she could think again, her head was resting on his broad shoulder.
Oliver pressed a kiss to her temple. “Much as I’d like to stay like this all day, we have an emerald to find.”
Percy moved off him, her body clenching and feeling strangely empty. She pulled out her envelope and showed him the diary page. “The next clue says to head toward three snow-covered mountains.”
He nodded. They’d spotted the three mountains in the distance, from the top of the cliff before the sun had se
t. He curved a hand over her hip. “Then I suggest unless you want mosquito bites all over that creamy skin, you get dressed.”
They worked well together, grabbing some quick breakfast and packing up the tent. Oliver wouldn’t let her carry the backpack, but Persephone insisted taking a turn with the machete.
They moved steadily through the dense jungle. When her muscles started to ache, Oliver took over. Damn, she could watch the flex of his muscles under his shirt all day long.
They took turns a few more times. The cool, refreshing waterfall was now a distant memory, and Persephone felt tired, hot, and sweaty.
“Drink break,” Oliver said.
She lowered the machete to the muddy ground. He moved over to a fallen log and opened the backpack. He pulled out the water, tipping it back to take a drink.
A flash of movement caught Persephone’s eye. She moved fast, adrenaline surging through her bloodstream. She rammed into Oliver, knocking him aside.
The snake struck out, missing its target. Persephone swung the machete, bringing it down to behead the reptile.
“Fuck.” Oliver stared at the dead snake. “Looks like some sort of pit viper.”
Persephone’s heart was still racing. She took in the snake’s brown-and-black markings. “Either a lancehead or a bushmaster.”
“Both of which are highly venomous.” He looked at her. “If it had bitten me, I would have been dead.”
Her gut rolled. “I like you alive.”
He leaned down and pressed a hard kiss against her lips. “I like being alive.”
They kept going, but as Persephone hacked away at the vines and foliage, all she kept seeing in her head was Oliver dying from a snake bite. Dammit, she hated even the idea of it.
Suddenly, the machete hit rock, and pain reverberated up her arm.
Oliver pushed up beside her, shoving some vines aside.
They both froze, Persephone’s heart pounding in her ears. It was a carved stone statue.
A lot of the statue had been worn away by rain, and time, and the jungle, but it was clearly a standing man, wearing some sort of headdress, his hands clasped in front of him.
“Definitely Incan.” Oliver’s face was alive with excitement.