by james
She pulled up to another stoplight, glad for the respite. It’d been a long drive from The Lust Bastion and it was still five miles to her apartment. She couldn’t help another peek at his equipment. He knew she was looking, too, because his penis twitched as if he were intentionally making the organ pulse.
“Doesn’t that thing ever go down?”
“I am always ready for my mistress.”
“Look, the whole mistress thing is creepy. I feel like I should wear black leather and snap a whip while yelling, ‘Who’s your momma!’”
He tensed in the seat, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “If you wish.”
Kira pursed her lips. “I could do anything I wanted to you, couldn’t I? That’s
part of your curse, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“What the hell did you do to piss her off?”
His answer was his silence. The light turned green and Kira punched the gas,
cursing the slow Las Vegas traffic. She needed to get her naked man home and figure out some way to dress him.
“What happened to Selena? She came over…then you and Bast messed with my head. Does she remember, too?”
“She went home. She does not remember coming to your home or meeting me. It is better that way.”
“Yeah. Probably.”
Her gaze slid toward his crotch again. “Aren’t you allowed to wear clothes?”
“Most of my mistresses did not want me to wear clothes.”
She knew why, too. He was tall, muscular, beautiful, and always ready to perform. In a way, she appreciated the idea of a gorgeous naked man at her beck and call, but in another, she felt sad about his circumstances. Maybe he deserved Bast’s punishment, but three thousand years of sex slavery? What crime could a man commit that deserved three millennia of retribution?
“You didn’t rape anyone, did you?”
“No.”
Relief swept through Kira. Other than murder, rape was the worst crime against a woman she could think of…wait a minute. Murder? Her throat dried. “Did you kill someone?”
“No.” He turned toward her. “Wouldn’t you rather fuck me than ask all these questions?”
“Well, yes, but we’re in a moving car and I have to use the car’s gear shift, not yours, to get us home.” She sighed when they had to stop again. “I prefer not to treat you like a piece of ass, Smenkare. I know too well what it feels like to be used.”
“Mistr—Kira, can you find a secluded place for us?”
“Why do you—” She caught the glance of a woman driver in the lane next to them. Her eyes were wide as saucers as she checked out Smenkare’s luscious nude body. Then Kira saw her pick up a cell phone. Either she planned to call her girlfriend to brag about what she’d just seen, or more likely, she was dialing the police to report indecent exposure.
The minute the light changed, Kira gunned the engine, racing ahead and switching lanes. She could only hope the lady was too befuddled to write down her license plate number. She turned at the next street and took back streets to the next major crossroad. Instead of turning toward the direction of her apartment, she went the opposite way. If Smenkare wanted secluded, she’d show him secluded.
In fifteen minutes, they were cruising along a lonely paved road into the desert. In another ten, she turned onto a dirt road and drove until she reached a thatch of trees. She stopped the car and looked at Smenkare. He stared at the lush foliage, an anomaly in the desert, and at the small pool of water just visible
through the trees.
“What is this place?”
“The oasis. When Selena and I were in high school, this is where everyone
came to make out.”
“They still do this?”
“Apparently, it was an eighties thing,” said Kira. “Most teenagers these days don’t want to go too far from the Strip.”
“We are alone?”
“Even if someone wanted to come out here, they wouldn’t be here at this time of day.”
Smenkare undid his seatbelt. “Come, mistress.”
“Smenkare—”
His smile was apologetic. “It is difficult to be treated as an equal. I am not used to it anymore. Long ago, I was…”
Kira waited for him to finish, but his gaze sought the oasis, a far-off look in his eyes. Was he thinking of Egypt? Of his life there? Everyone he’d known had been dead for centuries, every place he’d lived reclaimed by the sand. She touched his shoulder in empathy, once again tainted by the sadness she felt for him.
“Let’s go,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt.
They slid out of the car and walked to the tree line. Beyond, the small pond shimmered in the dying light, the setting sun turning the water purple.
“It is beautiful,” he whispered. He turned to her and grasped her hands to pull her close. “You are beautiful, too.”
“Please, Smenkare. You don’t have to lie to me. I want honesty between us. I know what I look like in the mirror.”
“You are blind if you do not see the beauty of your own face.” He stroked her cheek. “Soft as a flower’s petal.” He touched her lips with his. “Succulent,
talented mouth.”
His grin made her blush.
“Eyes like the Nile on the first day of spring. Never have I seen such a shade
of green, my princess.” He picked up a strand of hair and rubbed it between his fingers. “Hair as fine and soft as a bird’s wing.”
She trembled at his words.
He kissed her neck, the hollow of her throat, the thin line of her collarbone. Through the thin T-shirt and silk bra, she felt the warmth of his mouth as he sought her nipples through the material. They hardened, tingled.
She didn’t stop him from unsnapping her jeans, from dipping his hand inside, from finding her pussy wet and ready. He scooped her into his arms and walked to the Saturn. When he put her down, she shed her jeans and panties. He sat on the hood of the car and scooted backwards until he rested against the windshield. She didn’t need a map to know the destination. She crawled onto the hood and lowered herself on his cock, shuddering at the contact.
His hands crept under her T-shirt and unsnapped her bra. When it loosened, he wasted no time cupping the tender mounds, kneading them before finding and tugging her nipples. She moaned low in her throat and increased her movements. He felt so good inside her, so hard, so right.
“Kira,” he murmured, his eyes closed, his hips matching her movements. “My Kira.”
One of his hands traveled from her breast to her clit. While one hand cupped her breast, played with the nipple, the other stroked her clit, murmuring words she didn’t understand. His voice had changed, an accent thickening his tone. Pleasure vibrated through her body, centering on the magic created by Smenkare’s finger and their movements together.
“Oh God,” she moaned, “I’m going to come.”
She shattered, her cry of release echoing through the desert night. Smenkare grasped her hips and pumped into her until he, too, cried out and arched against her, his cock throbbing its release.
Kira collapsed against his chest, smiling when his arms encircled her. His heart beat furiously under her ear, his breath harsh in his chest, and his still-hard cock filled her. He felt warm and solid and with his arms tight around her, she
felt the affection she’d been missing for so long.
“Is it always like this?” she whispered.
“Like what, princess?”
“So…out of this world…so perfect.”
“No,” he said. “It has never been this way.”
His fingers combed through her hair; the repetitive motion made her feel drowsy, content. With hundreds of liaisons notched on his bedpost, she couldn’t imagine he was telling the truth about their coupling. But for this once, she didn’t care if he lied.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You just did.”
“Ha. Ha. Why are you circumcised?”
“I
am not. Bast can create me any way she chooses. In the last century, most of my mistresses have been Americans. There is a peculiar tendency among American males to trim their penises. So I am the same.”
“That’s almost too much information.”
“You asked. Can I ask you a question—after this one?”
Kira laughed. “What?”
“Why did you buy the vibrator?”
Her laughter subsided. She rubbed her palm across his flat nipple. “I’m not good at relationships. Men are just… I don’t know. They don’t like me unless they’re fucking me.”
“You underestimate yourself, my Kira.” He tipped her chin so that she was forced to look at him. “I will teach you the ways of love and you will find the man of your desires.”
Her heart thudded in her chest. “What if—what if I just want you?”
“It is not possible.” His gaze softened.
“You’re the only man I’ve ever known to treat me like a woman worthy of
respect instead of a woman worthy of a cheap bottle of wine and quick sex.” “You get what you expect. Raise your expectations.” “Just like that?” Smenkare kissed her and the gentle movement of his lips started her engine
running all over again. Such a simple gesture and she was ready to attack him. How many times a day could she want a man?
His always-hard cock still filled her so she rose and offered her breasts to him. He cupped them and brought them close to his face. He suckled one nipple then the other. His movements were tender and unhurried. She placed her palms on his chest and moved forward and back as slow as she could. When his hands fell away from her breasts and his eyes closed tightly, she rose on her knees, keeping the tip of his penis just inside her pussy and squeezed her vaginal muscles around it. Then she slid slooooowwwwlllyyy down it.
Then she did it again.
And again.
Smenkare’s whole body shuddered. When she lifted her pussy to torture him
again, he grabbed her hips. “It is too pleasurable.” “I am your mistress.” He opened his eyes and stared at her, uncertainty in his gaze. “Yes.” “I will pleasure you how I wish.” His eyes lowered. “Yes, mistress.” “Look at me, Smenkare.” He did. A flare of resentment resided with desire and she knew he wasn’t
angry with her, but with his circumstances. Her heart ached for him. If only there was a way for him to feel like a normal man. Or a normal Egyptian prince. Smenkare would never be a normal man.
Then it hit her.
Of course.
She lowered her head as if in obedience. “What do you wish of me?”
His eyes widened and she saw a flash of surprise. Then his jaw clenched. “It
is not my place.” She bent down and kissed the underside of his jaw. Her lips grazed his as she whispered, “What do you wish of me, my master?” Kira waited, a knot lodged in her throat, as the silence stretched between them. Then Smenkare said, “I wish you to free me.”
Her sexual desire disappeared like smoke from a dying fire. She slid off him. This wasn’t how she imagined he would play the game. How was she supposed to free a mystical sex slave? She liked him—a lot—but what did he want from her?
Her soul?
No way. Not even for him would she sacrifice herself. She’d already given up pieces of her soul for other men.
She gathered her panties and jeans from the ground. She shook out the sand
from the jeans and put them on, tucking the useless underwear into her pocket.
“You do not wish to free me, do you?”
“Of course I do,” she said, tears in her eyes, “but how do you propose I do that? Challenge a goddess? You did that and look what it got you.”
“I am sorry, my mistress.” He got off the hood and gathered her in his arms. “I should have never asked you. You wanted sex, not truth.”
His statement hit her in the solar plexus and she sucked in a breath. He was right. She’d wanted to please him in a sexual way. She’d never considered he would ask for the one thing she had no power to give him.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I wish I could free you.” She sniffled against his chest then looked up at him. “We could stop the sex for the rest of the time you’re with me and you could just go do what you wanted. You don’t have to
stay with me.”
He kissed her brow. “I must stay with you.”
“Because of the curse?”
“Because I wish it.”
Kira blinked away her tears. “You want to stay with me? The only freedom I
can give you is the next twenty-eight days. And you don’t want it?”
“I want you more.” He kissed her. “And I will not give up sex.”
“Thank God.”
* * * * *
Kira couldn’t find a decent pair of pantyhose. Every pair she pulled from the drawer was ripped. She threw the fourth pair onto the floor and muttered curses under her breath.
“Your legs are beautiful,” said Smenkare. “They do not require the vanity of pantyhose.”
“I can’t believe an Egyptian is counseling me on vanity.”
“It is not vanity when it is true.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. He lay on the bed, his head propped on his hand as he watched her. His gaze smoldered as he looked at her. She wore
a plain cotton bra and underwear, her hair was in curlers, and she was at least five minutes away from finishing her make-up. But Smenkare’s gaze made her feel like a supermodel. She was already running late because, after the alarm woke them, he had pinned her to the bed and fucked her senseless.
“I’m not vain. I work for a corporation that has a dress code.”
“What do you do for this corporation?”
“I’m in marketing.”
Smenkare didn’t look too impressed. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “I wish you to stay home with me.”
“I can’t,” she said, digging under her socks. Didn’t she buy some new stockings the other day? She grasped a small plastic bag and pulled it out, triumphant. “Yes! Hosiery prevails!”
“I do not wish you to cover your legs. I do not wish to stay in this claustrophobic domicile all day. I do not wish you to leave.” He sounded petulant, like a spoiled boy whose favorite toy had been taken away.
“I’m sorry, Smenkare.” She sat on the bed and ran her hand over his smooth chest. “I have to work so I can pay for this claustrophobic domicile.”
His fingers curled around her hand. He brought her palm to his lips and kissed the center. Her hand tingled from the contact. “Stay with me, my princess.”
Kira wanted nothing more than to stay with Smenkare all day, every day, for the rest of her life. But though she had a fantasy man—at least for the next month—she still had to live in reality. She didn’t have many vacation days left and, due to a vile case of the flu earlier in the year, she’d used most of her sick days. Her heart ached knowing that Smenkare would be gone soon. Yet she couldn’t chuck her normal life out the window to please him or to please herself.
He must have seen her decision in her eyes because he sighed and kissed her palm again. “I will miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” she said, and meant every word. Had there ever been a time a man had looked at her the way Smenkare looked at her now?
Never.
Her heart lurched. He really was going to miss her. So what if he only missed
her because she was his only entertainment? She didn’t care—no, not really—if it wasn’t because he loved her so much he couldn’t be out of her presence.
“Listen, you can spend the day doing whatever you want. Put on the sweats I bought you yesterday and lounge around. Watch TV and eat Twinkies.”
“Twinkies?”
“You’ll love them.”
“When will you be home?”
“By five-thirty or six. I’ll stop on the way home and get us dinner and movies.”
“All
right, Kira.” His lips lifted in a half-smile and he cupped her breast. “Perhaps you could be a little late to work.”
She smacked his hand. “No.”
But already her body was responding to the swipe of his thumb across her nipple and the desire darkening his gaze. She slipped off the bed and headed to the bathroom. As she plucked the curlers from her hair, Smenkare entered the bathroom and knelt next to her. His strong warm hands coasted up her thighs then his fingers looped the edge of her panties and pulled them down.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
She unpinned more curlers and almost stabbed herself with one of the metal pins when she felt Smenkare’s lips on her ass. He kissed her inner thighs and stroked the backs of her knees. She quivered…and spread her legs apart to give him better access. He turned, sat, and scooted under her.
“You have a beautiful pussy.”
The last curler fell into the sink. “Thank you.”
She took her eye shadow from her make-up bag, but wasn’t sure she’d be able to apply it. Her fingers trembled too much. Glancing down, she caught Smenkare examining her privates like an eager gynecologist.
“Yes, I like your pussy very much.” His finger stroked her clit. “It is not too hairy.”
“Gee, thanks.”
He pressed his mouth against her, tasting her. When his tongue plunged inside her, she gasped and dropped the eye shadow brush.
“You should probably stop,” she said. She pushed against his mouth, encouraging him to suck her clit. He took the hint. His hands crept around her ass and cupped her, bringing her closer.
“Really, Smenkare. This isn’t a good time.” Grabbing the edge of the sink, she bent her knees and moved slowly against his mouth. His tongue dipped into her vagina and she shuddered.
“Oh no,” she moaned. “No. Definitely not…”
He moved to her clit and suckled. Streamers of shocked pleasure shot through her. Then his tongue licked her, stroked her, his fingers digging into her ass as his strokes became more insistent. His mouth was hot and wet against her, so hot and so wet…she screamed when she came, clutching the sink’s rim so hard she broke two nails. Violent shudders wracked her body. She didn’t protest when Smenkare pulled her down onto his cock. Her still-sensitive clit rocked against him as she rode him, her knees scraping the vinyl of the floor.