by Amber Carew
"Why do you want my virginity?"
His hands stroked up her arms then fastened on her shoulders. She shivered beneath his touch.
"It's not your virginity I want. I want the thing that is most precious to you."
Her eyes widened. "And that is?"
"I want you to give up control."
She dragged her gaze from his and turned away slightly, grabbing a small round cushion and stroking the velvet distractedly. His hands fell away from her shoulders.
"If you want me to… give in to you… why didn't you try gentle seduction? Pretty flowers… soft lights… music? Why put me in a position like this? Why make it hard for me?"
"Jerette, I have chosen your deepest, most passionate fantasies… the ones you keep hidden away, even from yourself. But they're just below the surface of your conscious mind. In each one the common thread is: someone else takes over. Deep down inside you want control taken from you. Because you're afraid to give it up yourself." He tugged her chin around so she had to look at him and his eyes flickered back and forth as he searched her face. "I will take it if I must."
His hands stroked up her back as he brought his lips down on hers, gentle and persuasive. She let him draw her close, suffered the erotic stroking of his tongue on her lips, submissively let him thrust his tongue inside her mouth, within the boundary of her teeth… then she clamped down. He jerked his mouth away, cursing. She shoved her hands against his chest, knocking him backwards, and leaped to her feet. She ripped open the door and fled… right into the giant guard standing outside. The man grabbed her arm, holding her immobile. She battered her fist against his chest, but to no effect.
He ignored her and turned to Phantom. "Master, should I give her a whipping?"
Jerette stared from the guard to Phantom, her eyes widening. At Phantom's menacing glare, she feared she'd made a tactical error.
"No. I'll take care of her." Phantom seized her wrist and dragged her back into the room, kicking the door closed with his foot. He slung her down onto the cushions and scowled. She stared back with wide eyes.
"So we come to violence, do we?" She hated the quiver in her voice.
"Violence?" He glanced toward the door then back to her, his eyebrows quirking up. "No, I don't intend to beat you, Jerette." He dropped down beside her, his face an unreadable mask. "You know what I intend." He reached for her and she drew in a sharp breath, afraid of what he might do, but he simply trailed his finger down her neck and across her collar bone. Heating her skin. Branding her with his touch.
She felt helpless and she didn't like the feeling. She hadn't felt helpless since she was a child.
Her father, damn him, Sergeant-Major Salenger, had sought to control her life from the time of her birth, making every decision. She couldn't eat, sleep, or move without his approval. To him she was a spineless, senseless automaton who couldn't be trusted to do anything on her own. Anything that required a brain, that is. He'd died when she was seventeen, and she'd taken great pleasure in using his money to put herself through college, and succeeding with honors.
She glanced up at Phantom's strong face. She wasn't stupid, she knew that. And she wasn't helpless. But here with this huge, dominating man, she became that little girl again. She shivered.
"Jerette. I'm not like your father." His hands clutched her shoulders and the taut lines of his face showed sympathy. "Trust me."
"No!" She scrambled across the floor, out of his reach but he lurched forward and grabbed her ankle. He tugged her sharply toward him, her arms flying out to the sides. He prowled over her and she shrank back, her weight pressing into the cushions.
"Jerette, don't make this more difficult than it is."
"Do you expect me to just lay back and give in to you?" she demanded.
He lowered his weight onto her, enflaming every inch he touched. She flattened her hands against his chest and pushed with all her might, putting several precious inches between them.
"Leave me alone," she cried.
"That's not what you really want."
He nuzzled his lips against her neck and she felt quivers of need ripple through her, draining away her strength. Her rigid arms turned to pliable rubber and his body sank onto hers again. His mouth claimed hers, his tongue dipping inside to stroke gently, but never straying past the danger of her teeth. She forced her tongue to stay still, quelling her urge to engage in an erotic dance with his, to draw him inside. She felt his hands slide between their bodies and tug at the fastening of her gown.
"No." She squirmed under him, pushing his fingers away, but he grabbed both her wrists in one strong hand and forced them over her head. The weight of his hips anchored her lower body to the floor while his other hand pulled open her gown, revealing her breasts. At the naked desire on his face, her nipples rose into erect peaks. At her response, his body grew firm against her stomach. He lowered his head toward her, his intent clear, and she tried to wiggle away, afraid that the feel of his hungry mouth on her breast might break her resolve to fight him. His lips surrounded her nipple with warm moisture, heating her blood to a dangerous level. He tugged with a gentle suction, then swirled his tongue across the sensitive nub. A long moan of anguished need tore from her throat. She arched her chest toward him and felt his smile against her heated flesh. A second later, he nipped her other breast with a gentle teasing of teeth on flesh, then suckled. A shaft of pleasure shot through her, from his mouth to the melting slickness between her thighs. Automatically, her intimate muscles clenched, screaming for him to be inside her.
"Jerette, you do want me."
"No!" She shook her head violently, silently pleading with him to ignore the wayward response of her body.
He held her gaze as he stroked one nipple with a single fingertip, smiling at her answering shudder. He traced a slow path down her stomach and under the edge of her panties, dipping into her damp, aroused folds. He swirled his finger around, then drew it back to her breast, smearing moisture across her nipple. He smiled, then licked the glistening peak. Her eyelids fell shut in self-defense, blanking out the erotic image. He stroked the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, urging her legs apart, edging his knees between them. When she felt his hard male arousal fall against her stomach, she panicked.
Writhing and arching, she threw all her strength and determination into freeing herself, but her wrists remained firmly in his grasp and he lowered his body onto hers, forcing her to spend her energy needlessly. Finally, exhausted and weak, she lay still, panting. His rigid shaft nudged the folds of skin between her legs, and she cried out, "No, Phantom. Please… don't." Tears trickled from her eyes. She hated her weakness, but if begging would stop him…
He met her gaze with tenderness, stroking wayward tendrils of hair from her face. "Sweetheart, fight your own misguided instincts, not me." He kissed the path of tears down one cheek. "Fear is blinding you to your own needs." He nibbled the tip of her chin. "Not fear of me, but of yourself, of losing the control you value so highly." He brushed his lips against her temple, then nuzzled her ear. Tingles rippled down her spine at his gentle ministrations. "Lose control and find your real self."
Phantom's fingers slipped inside her and stroked once, then twice. Sweltering waves of need rippled through her, holding her suspended in a whirlpool of pleasure so intense she felt herself spinning out of control.
His arms slid around her and she felt the strength of his tender embrace. His chest pressed against hers and she felt the staccato beat of his heart answering hers, the rhythm of the two coming together in a chorus of matching desire. He shifted slightly and she felt his firm shaft of flesh slide along her inner thigh.
He swiveled his hips forward and his rigid strength filled her. She briefly wondered at the lack of pain, then a firm stroke of masculine hardness within her shattered her last crumbling barrier of control. She could no longer deny her need for him, her desire to have him make sweet, passionate love to her, to take her to the hidden realm of ecstasy she had always den
ied herself. He pulled back and surged forward again. She moaned, desperate for more. Vaguely, she realized he'd released her hands as she curled them around his neck and pulled him tighter against her, reveling in the feel of his coarse chest hair against her sensitized nipples. When he thrust again, she arched to meet him, then wrapped her legs around his hips.
They moved together in a dance of passion and she moaned on a long, low note. She felt herself rise on an ever increasing swell of desire. An implosion started deep inside her and her world contracted to a tight ball of ecstasy. A sharply rising cry tore from her throat as emotion built to near cataclysmic intensity and finally burst in a frenzied, exhilarating release.
Slowly she became aware of how right she felt enveloped in his protective embrace, his maleness still buried within her. She had been so empty before but now she felt complete. He fit her perfectly, as though her body had been built for him—or his for her.
They fell asleep, nestled in the warmth of each other's embrace.
When she opened sleepy eyes, he smiled down at her. She snuggled more deeply into his arms and sighed. Then she shifted and stretched, brushing her nipples across his chest, sliding her thigh against his growing arousal.
"Imp." The word held a world of promise.
"Are you complaining?" Her hand grazed where her leg had been and she smiled at the sound of his in-drawn breath.
"Not at all."
He brought his lips down on her nipple and it became her turn to gasp.
"This loss of control," she murmured when she could catch her breath. Then she gasped again as his tongue flicked lightly across the sensitive nub. "Tell me… did I do it right?"
"Right?" His tongue paused. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, because I think maybe we should do it again. Just to be sure."
He proceeded to oblige her.
As Jerette lay in his arms, spoon fashion, savouring the feel of his warmth around her, she knew he had been right. Phantom had known what she needed better than she had. Giving of herself gave her more control than she'd ever known. Because the control she'd had before had been only an illusion. The only control in her life had been fear, and it had controlled her. She'd been afraid of losing herself. Now she knew she couldn't. She wasn't that weak little girl any more. She had inner strength. And there was enough of her to share. With Phantom. Because she loved him.
She'd never seen a man so strong, yet so tender. His fierce determination to free her from her bonds of fear had touched her more deeply than anyone ever had—or could again.
"What are you thinking, sweet Jerette?"
"Don't you know?" She glanced up at him in surprise.
"I don't intend to make a habit of invading your thoughts, you know. I did it only because I knew you would resist, and I had to convince you."
"Mm. Too bad."
He nuzzled the hair behind her ear with his nose.
"Why? Would I like what you're thinking?"
"You be the judge." She wiggled into a more comfortable position, pulling his hands more snugly around her waist. "I was thinking how much I love you."
The stiffening of his body sent tremors of alarm rippling through her.
"Don't tell me that makes you nervous?" She tried to sound nonchalant but fell short.
"Nervous?"
"Yes. You do know what the word means, don't you?"
She slowly pulled away, feeling the cold as she left his embrace, wrapping her arms around herself as she sat up. She felt him drape a blanket around her shoulders and she pulled it close around her body.
"I… think maybe we'd better get dressed."
He pulled on his trousers, which lay discarded on the floor beside the bed of cushions. She found her ragged garment and pulled it over her head.
"What happens now?" she asked. "Will you tell me who you are and how to reach you? Or… is this it?"
She didn't believe it, she couldn't, but when he hesitated, fear surged through her anew.
"Jerette." He hesitated, sending her pulse raging. "I… don't think we should see each other again."
"What?" She turned around and glared at him. "You can't mean that? You come into my fantasies. You make me want you. You take everything I have. Then you say we can't see each other again?"
He cupped her cheek with his hand, a haunted look in his eyes. "I hope I gave you back as much as I took."
A tear escaped her eye. Anger surged through her but she couldn't lie. "Yes," she whispered. She grabbed his hand and held it between both of hers. "Phantom, please. Don't end this. Tell me who you really are."
He dropped his gaze. "No."
"Please. Let's talk about this."
"We can't, Jerette. I want to but…"
"But?" Sensing the futility of her mission she pursued another avenue. "Then, tell me where you live. Do you live nearby or.…" It suddenly dawned on her that he could live on the other side of the world. With the Internet, he could live anywhere.
"I live in a different world than you."
"So you are far away. Surely we can find a way to close the distance. I could fly to wherever you are. I could take some time from work, I could…"
The tense set of his jaw told her it was pointless to go on. Suddenly she knew she'd been wrong. She'd trusted, and lost, and the pain was unbearable.
"No, Jerette. Don't feel that way. I… I don't want you to regret what we had."
"How else can I feel?" A steady stream of tears rolled down her face now and she hated the weakness it showed.
"Oh, Jerette." He pulled her against him and cupped her head against his chest. "I didn't want to hurt you."
She pulled back to look up at him. "Why did you do all this?"
"I've known about you for a long time. You first captured my attention when you got involved in the discussion groups over the net. You had some very radical ideas about things."
"I did?"
"I wanted to know you better."
"You could have written me an e-mail."
"I was a little too… immature for that then."
She gasped. "Good heavens, you aren't…"
He smiled at that. "No, I'm not some young teenager. I'm quite grown up, I assure you." The light in his eyes made her wonder if he'd reach for her again, but he didn't.
"You started coming into my fantasies," she prompted.
"Yes. At first I just observed, then started taking minor roles."
She wanted to ask him how he got into her system after she'd disconnected it from the net, but she didn't want to chance redirecting his explanation.
"I quickly realized you were suppressing your real desires, living a life you don't really want."
"What do you mean? I love my life."
"Do you? I don't think so. You're still trying to prove something to your father."
"He's dead."
"I know that. Do you?"
"Of course I do, I—"
"Then let go of him, Jerette. Admit to yourself that what you really want to do is create VR landscapes."
"Design e-scapes?"
"Of course. Your designs are stunning. I've never been in another with the richness of detail that yours provide. You have a wonderfully creative mind. Use it. Don't stifle yourself in a boring, systematic job."
"It's not boring. It takes a great deal of creativity to—"
"I grant you that, but it's a creativity you'd be better using to help others enjoy their own fantasies. It's what you really want to do."
He was right. She knew that deep down inside, though she'd never let the thought surface before now.
"All right. That's why you wanted me to let go of my control. So I can learn to let go of reality and delve into fictional worlds."
"Yes, you do that now in VR but you need to learn to share them with others."
Despite herself, her tone turned petulant. "So now that you've done your good deed you'll be on your way. That's all this was about. You being a boy scout."
"Of course not, Jerette
, but…"
A sudden inspiration hit her. "Are you afraid you won't live up to my expectations?"
"What?"
"Well, here you are this gorgeous hunk of man. I doubt you really look like this." Her hand waved across his body. "Are you afraid I won't love you once I see you? Do you think I'm that shallow?"
"Jerette…"
Her eyes widened as a thought occurred to her. "Oh, Phantom. You're not… You aren't physically handicapped, are you? If you are, it doesn't matter to me. If you love me—"
"I do have a handicap. But it's not what you think."
"What then?" Her heart quivered in fear of his answer.
"I don't have a body."
"You mean you're paralyzed?" Oh, no. Poor Phantom. But they could still be together. And they still had the VR.
"No, I mean I have no physical body." He took her face in his hands and stared into her eyes. "Jerette, I am the computer net. Over the years I've developed my own intelligence."
She backed away a bit. "You're saying you're… You don't really exist?"
"I exist, all right. I'm just not human."
An artificial intelligence. After the major shock wore off, Phantom sent her back to real space. Without him. Because, of course, he didn't exist in the real world. He had told her he was drawn to her because she had always argued in favour of artificial intelligence. Most people didn't believe it could exist. Those who did usually believed that an AI shouldn't have any rights. That it wouldn't even have a soul. She disagreed, believing that any intelligence is sacred and should be treated as such. But never had she thought she would meet such a being. Let alone fall in love with him.
Phantom had insisted she get on with her life, get involved in relationships with real men. She knew he was right but she also knew she could never love another man. It would be pointless.
As the weeks went by, she missed Phantom terribly. She started to wonder if it would be so bad to keep seeing him in the VR. Even that half existence had to be better than being alone in her so-called reality. But she wouldn't survive being with him and not knowing if he returned her love.