The Lady Smut Book of Dark Desires (An Anthology)

by Liz Everly

  Scattered across the lawn were piles of discarded robes, tossed away with the impatience of illicit lovers meeting for a secret tryst. The scene before her, however, was far from secretive as couples and trios openly kissed and caressed, their passionate moans drifting lazily through the forest. It was some kind of bizarre spiritual nymph orgy. Faith's mouth fell open and she jerked away from Alexandru.

  "What… what is this?"

  "Enough!" He clapped his hands and the activity stopped at once.

  "Shield yourselves," he ordered, and the nymphs scrambled to obey, donning robes in seconds. The reassembled themselves in a circle around their master, eyes shining up at him, faithful disciples eager to please.

  Alexandru nodded and smiled, then invited Faith to sit back on her throne.

  "In their desire for the mating ritual, my followers have gotten ahead of themselves," he chuckled.

  Faith frowned. "The…what?"

  "This is the reason we were brought together, Faith. To mate." He spoke slowly, like someone speaking a foreign language to another who struggles to understand. Faith pushed herself back in her chair, needing as much distance as possible between herself and the crazed lunatic sitting across from her.

  "I'm not mating with you," she said, defiant. Yet even as she spoke the words, the sizzle of heat between them flared anew.

  "Oh, but you will," he murmured, faint shimmers of gold arousal swirling about his head. Faith's gaze flicked down and saw the tent beneath the robe where it draped over his thighs. She licked her lips, her breaths becoming shallow. The pull of this crazy god was undeniable. Still, she had to keep her wits about her. Summoning strength, she steered her gaze away from him.

  "I know you want me, Faith," he said. "Though you try to pretend differently." He sighed, a low, heavy sigh, like that of a teacher disappointed in his pupil. Sitting back in his throne, he steepled his fingers beneath his chin and locked his gaze directly with Faith's. "Let me tell you a story," he said. "After which, if the story pleases you, the mating ceremony shall begin."

  "If the story pleases me?"

  "Correct. If it does not, you are free to leave."

  "What about Dana?"

  "I shall release her as well."

  "Unharmed?"

  His voice took on a sharp edge. "I already assured you, she is unharmed."

  She bit her lip, considering. There had to be a catch. All she had to do was say that the story displeased her and he'd let her go? Why would it be that easy? She chanced a look around. The nymphs sat in rapt attention, their gazes still cast upward, like earth's faithful looking toward heaven. But these nymphs were no earthly beings, and they prayed to a very different God from the one she knew. Still, if she had any hope of escape, there appeared to be little choice but to go along with what he wanted.

  "Fine." She shrugged. "I'm game. Tell me your story."

  "Very good," Alexandru said softly. "I'm pleased you have agreed."

  "Did I have a choice?"

  "My mistress has claws," he responded, ignoring her comment. "I like that." He clapped his hands together and in an instant a servant appeared out of nowhere. He was strong and athletic, like an ancient Greek sculpture come to life. His hair was dark, almost black, and his skin deeply tanned. If he were an earthly being, Faith would have guessed his age to be in the mid-twenties. As it was…hell, who could say. He could have been a thousand years old for all she knew. Draped in white robes like the rest of Alexandru's followers, he held a silver platter in his hands bearing two goblets filled with dark red liquid.

  "Ah, Eryx," Alex took the goblets from the servant, setting them on a table beside him. "Thank you, my love." Eryx smiled and bent forward, leaning in to Alexandru. The god looked up, locking gazes with the younger man before giving him the barest of nods, as if granting permission. Slowly the servant lifted a hand to touch his fingertips softly, almost reverently, against Alexandru's face. He slid his other hand through the god's hair as he closed the gap between them, bending down to sweep his tongue over the god's lips before eagerly plunging into his open mouth.

  Alexandru circled his arms about Eryx's waist and guided him forward to sit beside him on the massive throne. Once the servant was settled, he lifted his hands and slipped them gently, worshipfully, beneath Alexandru's robe. Seconds later the god broke the kiss and cried out, a low, husky moan drenched in passion. He bucked his hips, gyrating against Eryx's ministrations. The servant dipped his head and ran his tongue along Alexandru's throat, leaving a trail of moisture in its wake. Then he kissed the god on the mouth once more, long and deep, as he and Alexandru groaned in ecstasy.

  Faith watched the duo, almost feeling as if she were invading a private moment but unable to look away, helplessly aroused. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted some of the nymphs locked together in their own passionate embrace. She couldn't deny the hypnotic pull of the erotic scene before her, shifting in her chair as she watched the two men. Her pussy throbbed, begging for touch. A sudden, powerful urge to give herself relief flooded her body but she resisted, telling herself it was all Alexandru's doing. He'd put her under some kind of spell and she needed to, had to, resist it. She would not be a puppet to this crazy god, allowing him freedom to do as he wished. With iron will she gripped the sides of her throne, ignoring the pulsating ache between her thighs.

  Eryx slipped down the throne to kneel before Alexandru. One hand remained beneath the god's robe but with the other Eryx drew aside the robe from one of Alexandru's legs, exposing a smooth, powerful thigh bulging with muscle. The servant began kissing Alex's leg, starting low, his mouth voyaging over the side of the calf, up over the knee and then along the thigh, all the while his hand continued its work beneath the god's robe.

  Alexandru groaned loudly and Faith looked up, straight into his deep brown eyes, although now they were coated black with lust. He likes me watching him. Alexandru nodded, a coy smile playing about his lips.

  "Yes I do," he whispered in a ragged voice, reading her thoughts. "And as much as I love my dear Eryx, I would prefer you in his place." His breaths were quick, shallow, as the servant continued lavishing attention on him. Alexandru refused to break eye contact with Faith, drawing her into his lust-filled world through the power of his gaze.

  "Join me, Faith," he urged, gasping as his arousal grew. She shook her head, barely able to resist him but knowing she must. Despite the enticing scene before her and the hypnotic pull to do as he asked, a small part of her instinctively knew escape would be impossible should she allow herself to be sucked into his world. She bit down on her lip, tasting blood, and allowed the pain to distract her so she could pull away her gaze.

  Alexandru's curse vibrated throughout the room. "Away!" he shouted, and as Faith looked back over she saw Eryx rise and scamper off. The god readjusted his robes. His eyes shot sparks at her and his skin was flushed. Despite her determination to stand up to him, she couldn't stop the tremors coursing through her body, as if she'd been shocked by a lightning bolt. Her eyes grew wide as he approached her throne, his great height making her feel like a mouse in a hawk's shadow. But then, to her great surprise, as she braced herself for the onslaught of Alexandru's fury, instead the god's mouth fell open and out came a great bellowing howl of laughter.

  All around her the laughter increased, voices joining in and growing louder, like the chorus in a sympathy. It echoed off the trees, rolling across the meadow, and Faith could see the nymphs shriek, holding themselves as they shook with mirth. She had no idea what was so funny but couldn't deny she preferred that over Alexandru's bone-shaking anger.

  When at last he brought himself under control, he looked upon her with what could only be described as pure adoration shining in his eyes. "My queen," he said, extending his hand out to her, "I laugh from sheer joy. My happiness at finding you knows no limitations. Come join me for a walk and I shall tell you my story."

  Faith shook her head, wary of being led away. "Just tell me the story here," she said, determ
ined to keep her voice from trembling. "I don't want to go anywhere."

  "You don't trust me?"

  "Why should I?" She frowned, angered by his arrogance. "You've taken my friend, you've turned a hospital into a forest, you claim to be not of this world and you've got an army of nymphs who'll do anything you command. We humans are taught from a young age not to trust strangers so I'll stay right here, thank you very much."

  "Rise." Ignoring her, Alexandru held out his arms like a conductor signaling for the music to begin. With slow but deliberate purpose he swept his arms upward and, in spite of every ounce of resistance within her, Faith began to rise. Her body lifted from the chair as if pulled by invisible strings. She felt the ground beneath her feet, yet the strides she took seemed to serve no purpose. Rather than walking toward Alexandru it seemed as if she were being transported, like being on one of those moving walkways in an airport terminal. Whether she took steps or stood still, in the end she was nonetheless brought before the god.

  He smiled with satisfaction, reaching out his hand to take hers. Once more his touch sparked desire and she wondered again if he'd cast her under a spell. The urge to resist him waned, then disappeared. She was a sleepwalker in a trance, unable to pull away. "We shall walk," he said, softly this time, and Faith could do nothing but follow, helpless as a lamb being led to slaughter.

  They descended the stairs onto the soft meadow grass. The nymphs parted to allow their passage like the Red Sea before Moses. Alexandru guided her through the trees and toward the crystal stream. Casting his gaze before the sight, he murmured, "How I love water."

  "So do I," Faith agreed. "I always have."

  "Of course you do."

  His cryptic talk unnerved her. "What do you mean? How would you know?"

  "The story first," he said, waving a scolding finger. "Then it shall all make sense."

  She sighed with impatience, although another side of her was excited, like a child at a party awaiting gifts. Inexplicable as it seemed, Faith felt that she was about to receive answers to things in her life she'd always wondered about.

  They reached a fallen log alongside the stream and it was here where Alexandru led her. They sat side by side, shifting positions so they could face one another. The god smiled and snapped his fingers. Eryx appeared once more holding the wine he'd brought earlier. This time he did nothing more than hand each one of them a glass before slipping silently away.

  Alexandru tilted his glass toward Faith "Noroc. That is what we say in the language of my old country. I believe here you say 'cheers'."

  "Cheers," Faith replied, though she refrained from drinking. Could be a glass full of poison for all she knew.

  "It's not poison." Alexandru drank deeply, emptying the glass. He signaled for more and the chalice was refilled at once by the ever-attentive Eryx.

  Faith frowned. "I don't like you reading my thoughts."

  "I can't always, my queen. You are exquisite at shielding them, most of the time. But every so often an unguarded one slips through." He took another drink of the wine. "I think it happens when you are nervous. Your control weakens."

  She tucked that bit of information in the back of her mind, silently celebrating the fact that she'd just been given an essential tip for getting out of here. Stay calm and carry on. Oh, and don't let crazy gods read your mind.

  Her gaze slid sideways to study Alexandru while he drank more wine. His robes did little to mask the sculpted body beneath, his steely muscles bulging defiantly against the draped cloth. Strong fingers lightly grasped his ever-present chalice. As she watched him she noticed a strand of ivy hanging around his neck, curiously reminding her of the titanium rope necklaces often worn by baseball players. It was said to give them energy, she recalled, wondering if ivy did the same thing for Alexandru.

  All at once, as she idly sat waiting for the god's story to begin, clarity struck with near violent force as she realized who he was. It had all been right in front of her, the answer there for the taking, but until now she hadn't seen it. Her mouth dropped open in an astonished "o" and she let out a small gasp, pushing her hands against the log as she jumped up and stepped back.

  "You're…you're…"

  "It took you long enough, my queen."

  "I'm not your queen, Dionysus," she hissed, jaw clenched tight.

  "Or Bacchus," he calmly replied, "depending upon whether you favor the Greeks or the Romans."

  The picture rapidly came into view, like a mirror cleared of steam. Suddenly Faith understood everything: the nymphs, the wine, the ecstatic atmosphere surrounding her. She thought back to what she knew of mythology. Dionysus' father was Zeus. He was the last god to be accepted into Mt. Olympus and the only one to have a mortal mother. He was worshipped for being the god of winemaking, harvest, madness. And ecstasy. At that last thought she was scorched by a heat wave, infusing her body with a heady rush of desire. And once more, like a drug, Alexandru's irresistible pull intoxicated her senses.

  No, she reminded herself. Not Alexandru. Dionysus.

  "Why did you lie to me?" she asked, ignoring the ache of her sensitive nipples as they strained against her blouse.

  "A small test," he shrugged, waving a hand in the air as if to brush away a fly. "I needed to see if you would figure it out on your own."

  "And I did." The heavy pulses between her legs had slowed but still she didn't trust herself to be near him. She remembered her body's reaction when he had first touched her. And then kissed her. Knowing he was the god of ecstasy reminded her to keep her distance.

  "Now tell me the story so I can leave."

  "If the story displeases you," he reminded her. "But only then." He patted the empty place beside him. "Come back here, Faith. I need you next to me."

  She shook her head. "No. I'll stay here."

  His dark eyes blazed into hers. "You know I can force you."

  A sizzle of anger ripped through her veins. She gritted her teeth. "Why even bother with your story, then? If you can make me do whatever you want, why not just go ahead? Screw your pretense of a story and acting as if I have a choice." Her body shook as her fury grew, like a tornado gathering energy as it roared across the plains. She wanted to lash out at him, to yell and scream and pound him with her fists. But she remembered what happened the last time she'd beat at him. Her mortal strength was no match for a god.

  "It doesn't work that way," Alexandru replied evenly. Faith could tell by the twitching muscle at the back of his jaw that she'd angered him, but for the moment he kept his cool. Still, the swirl of black in his eyes teemed with foreboding. She needed to get herself under control if she had any chance of getting out of there alive.

  With trepidation she stepped back over to the log and sat down, keeping a safe distance between them.

  "Fine,” she said. "Tell me the story."

  He released a slow breath and then drank deeply from his chalice, emptying the silver cup. He set it down on the ground beside his feet and turned his attention to Faith.

  "You know who my father is," he began, "and I assume my mother as well?"

  "Semele," Faith confirmed. "You rescued her, did you not?"

  "Yes. From Hades. And forevermore my mother presides over my frenzies as we celebrate freedom. Her freedom and the freedom of all who have been imprisoned." He shifted his body, turning to face her more directly. "That is why I am god of madness," he said, his words laced with conviction. "Madness imprisons the mind and denies it the freedom we all desperately desire."

  Faith's eyes unexpectedly filled as she thought back to her beloved Nana, locked away for her "madness." She'd lost her physical freedom, but Faith realized that the undiagnosed mental illness had cost her grandmother emotional and psychological freedom as well.

  She swallowed against the lump in her throat. "The "frenzies" you mentioned," she said, her voice halting. "Are you talking about the bacchanalia?"

  The god smiled. "It is what others have called them. But yes, the bacchanalia I am known for are
nothing less than a celebration of freedom, a way to cast off fears and restraints."

  "But how does this all apply to me? I still don't understand."

  "Soon you shall, my queen. Very soon." His soothing voice drew her back into his web, and without his urging she moved closer, his body heat flowing into her like steam from a sauna.

  "Many years ago, when I was young and foolish, I lusted after a beautiful, powerful goddess. She consumed my every thought and my desire was unquenchable. I burned for her." He chuckled at his last sentence, but Faith scarcely noticed. Irrational though it was, she struggled against the great roaring beast of jealousy that howled within her as Alexandru spoke of his lust for someone else. She balled her hands into fists, driving her nails into the soft fleshy part of her palm in an effort to banish the monster. At last, in a tight voice, she said, "I don't understand why this is amusing."

  The god reached a hand out toward her and lightly traced a finger along her thigh. Even through her jeans, her skin tingled where he touched, the energy like an electrical current. "Because the goddess I burned for was Vesta."

  Despite her jealousy, Faith smiled. Vesta, goddess of the flame. She now understood his humor, that he burned for the goddess of the flame.

  "But…" She frowned, remembering something else about mythology. "Wasn't she a virgin?"

  "Alas, yes. In spite of my best efforts."

  "What happened?"

  "I pursued her for years, stealing kisses whenever I could but never more than that. She absolutely forbade it. Finally I grew weary of her denials and turned my attention to others. I thought Vesta would be relieved that I no longer chased her, but I was wrong."

  His earlier humor gone, Alexandru frowned at an invisible speck of lint on his robe and with quick flicks of his wrist brushed it away. "Very wrong. Vesta still wanted my undivided attention and she was furious when she realized that my interest in her was gone." He expelled a deep breath. "In her fury, she vowed revenge."