[Atlantean's Quest 01] The Arrival (5 page)

She was hot, needy, and ready.

Rachel, you’re in a jungle where the nearest worthy candidate for a good fuck is over a thousand miles away,
was her last coherent thought before she succumbed to pure sensation.

Her hips undulated and the muscles in her abdomen bunched as the familiar pleasure-pain started. Blood rushed through her head, deafening the sounds around her, until they faded to a distant hum.

Faster and faster she stroked her clit as if possessed, wrapped in a world of carnal need. Her legs shook. The tension in her abdomen pulled taut, teetering on the precipice of that elusive peak, ready to plummet to the awaiting bliss.

A loud moan tore from Rachel’s throat as she came hard. The orgasm slammed into her, washing over her in wave after wave of hot slicing pleasure. Warmth spread through her and out to her limbs, leaving everything tingling. She continued her movements, milking her body, until there was nothing left but afterglow.

* * * * *

Eros couldn’t tear his eyes from the woman. Every fiber of his being screamed out to her, demanding her attention. His heated gaze followed her pale hands as they moved over her full breasts, squeezing at the nipples until they protruded like ripe red berries. He had managed to turn off the light and grab her gun before she’d been able to spot him.

Her creamy skin glowed in the darkness, smooth and satiny, flushed and glistening, from the dip in the pool. He watched as she slid her fingers between her rounded thighs and began strumming the damp petals of her womanhood.

Moonlight reflected off the juices seeping from her body, the fragrance as rare as the gold orchid. His cock stiffened like a ramrod. Eros moaned in discomfort. He removed the pistol she’d dropped earlier from his waistband, letting it fall to the weeds. The weapon had no place near his woman.

Her body rippled, slinking with each tantalizing feminine vibration.

She was killing him.

He shook as he tried to maintain the energy surge he’d sent out to ward off the nearby predators so that she’d be protected in the water. Her wild scent called out, beckoning him to mount her, mate with her, possess her.

Eros wrapped his hand around his throbbing cock, his fingers subconsciously mirroring her movements, pumping furiously. The scene before him was too much.

She was too much.

He had to force himself to stay in the shadows, when everything inside told him to go to her, plunge inside, fuck her mindless. He held his breath, stroking himself harder and faster. Like he wanted to be thrusting inside the woman. He imagined her hot sheath closing around his cock, gripping.

She continued with her frantic undulations, her fingers slick from her probing. Rounded hips pumped against her hand as she reached her peak. She moaned in release at the same time he spilled his seed.

Eros groaned. His body jerked violently, lean muscles bunching in taut lines as he ejaculated. Semen jettisoned out over his hand and onto the ferns below, leaving him hot and sticky.

He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. His lungs heaved with the effort and his vision blurred. He shuddered as his cock began to lose some of its hardness. Still he gripped himself, wishing the woman held him instead, refusing to let go of the lingering sensation.

The woman was a sorceress.

Not since he was a young man had he been so careless, so out of control. Eros fisted his hands in frustration. He didn’t like the fact that this woman already had a firm hold on him. The seer had withheld that information. After a couple of agonizing gasps, he slowed his breathing.

Eros watched her breasts rise and fall, their fullness jiggling with each breath. The movement held him spellbound. He longed to lap at the pale globes, swirl his tongue around the rosy peaks until her arousal consumed her once again. Just thinking about it had him growing hard once again.

He vowed the next time she cried out in pleasure, it would be his name forming on her lips.

He’d make sure of it.

Eros turned away from the woman, unable to gaze upon her naked form any longer. His massive body trembled as he fought the urge to seize.

Unconcerned with being heard, he made his way through the jungle, snapping limbs and vines along his route with his powerful hands. He walked a few yards further, then wailed, letting out a warrior’s battle cry. The action released all remaining pent up tension from his body.

Vision be damned, he wasn’t waiting any longer.

* * * * *

Rachel’s breathing remained choppy as she gradually floated back to reality. She slowed her movements down to a few quick strokes, the kind you’d give a cat.

She laughed and brought her arms up and covered her eyes, grasping her elbows and inhaling deeply. The musky smell of sex on her fingers swamped her, the unmistakable odor wafted around mingling with the flowers, permeating the area.

She sighed, contented.

Something crashed near the edge of the trees. Rachel leapt up, her hands flying immediately to protect her exposed flesh. She reached around in the grass, found the light and flicked it on, but its beam was unable to penetrate more than a few feet.

The darkness pressed in around her, surrounding, encircling and immovable. She tossed the light down and grabbed her clothes, throwing the items on in haste.

A tormented cry bellowed out, echoing throughout the jungle. Nothing that she’d ever heard before sounded like that. Birds took flight, squawking in panic. Monkeys scattered and nocturnal creatures scurried for places to hide.

Rachel snatched the flashlight and ran up the trail, tearing at the vines in her way. She felt eyes boring into her back.
What have I done?

Plants and twigs crashed behind her, closer and closer. Her hair snagged on something for a second, before gaining release. She could have sworn large fingers had given her a quick stroke.

Yeah, girl, and Tarzan is going to sweep down from the trees, snatch you up into his muscled arms and carry you off to his hut.

Rachel broke from the jungle in a full sprint. Men were hollering and running from tent to tent with guns in their hands, their eyes bulging, wild with fear. Her arms immediately went in the air as several rifles swung around and pointed in her direction. She slowed but didn’t stop. Another strangled cry permeated the night.

And then it hit her—she’d forgotten her pistol.

She wasn’t going back for it now. Rachel didn’t stop running until she reached the entrance of her tent. She dove through the opening, pulling the flap closed behind her. She zipped the door and tied all the straps. Her lungs labored for breath, choppy gulps were all she could manage after the sprint.

Her heart pounded out a rapid tattoo as she undressed. Her fingers shook from excess adrenaline as she buttoned her over-sized pajama top and slipped into her cot. She placed the mosquito netting around her and stared blindly at the ceiling.

She’d been hunted tonight and had barely escaped capture.

The question was, by what?

* * * * *

Eros looked over his shoulder and saw the woman bolt. Instinct kicked in and he ran after her, a predator hunting its prey.

He reined in his desire, tightly leashing it. He could easily overtake her, but he chose to wait. The camp was already in an uproar due to his foolishness. In the end, she’d come to him. This group would enter the jungle tomorrow. Then they’d be in his territory.

She’d be his…soon.

He reached out a second before she broke from the trees and allowed his fingers to brush against the wet hair clinging to her back. It was soft, like he knew it would be.

Perhaps he’d pay her a visit.

Yes—tonight once all had calmed. He’d taste what he’d been denied moments ago. In the end, her body would be his.

* * * * *

The camp settled down after a couple of watchful hours. Eros made his way through the jungle, following the tree line to the backside of the tents. Hers was easy enough to pick out, since he’d memorized the layout earlier in the week.

He’d gathered the herbs needed to ensure she would be aware of his presence, but not fully awake. The mixture grew pungent as he ground the herbs together into a fine powder, adding his natural energy to the mix. He was immune to the plants effects, as were his fellow Atlanteans.

All he had to do was make it to her tent and slip inside before the guides guarding the campsite noticed. He moved silently, his stealth legendary amongst his people.

He reached the back of her tent. No one saw him slip the razor sharp blade from its sheath and slice through the canvas.
Just as easy the second time, as it was the first
. In moments the opening expanded, big enough for him to slip his large frame inside.

The woman slept beneath netting, protecting her delicate skin from damaging pests. Her breathing flowed deep and steady. In her sleep she made little mewling sounds and her limbs twitched as she dreamt. Eros smiled.

He approached her inert form and knelt down beside the cot. With trembling fingers, he carefully separated the netting to gain access to her alabaster face.

She was beautiful up close, small and compact, yet full and curvy in all the right places. The light from the campfire brightened the inside of the tent, casting dancing shadows across her pale features.

She smelled of rain and earth, flowers and spice. Eros lifted a finger to brush an escaping brown tendril from her forehead, the texture reminiscent of the finest silk. She stirred, her rosy lips puckering as if accepting a lover’s kiss.

Need once again slammed into him, along with rage the likes of which he’d never experienced. From this day forth she’d have no other lovers. Calming his turbulent emotions, he reached into his pouch and pulled out the white concoction. Carefully, he took some of the powder into his palm and gently blew the contents across her face.

She inhaled deeply. Her nose twitched and she let out a delicate sneeze. Her eyes fluttered open and locked on his. They widened instantly. Her pupils dilated from exposure to the waking sleep drug. She stared at him as if she recognized him, which was impossible. Eros sensed no fear, only curiosity.

“Shh…you’re dreaming,” he whispered. Her brows furrowed slightly. “My name is Eros. You won’t remember that by tomorrow, but it’s important that you know it now, for I want to hear it as you cry out when you come for me.” She continued her perusal, her eyes reflecting a myriad of questions, before a slow seductive smile formed on her lips. Apparently the thought of having him pleasure her in her dreams wasn’t unappealing.

The muscles in his chest constricted and his heart did a little flip-flop.

Eros dismissed the sensation as quickly as it had arrived. He reached down to the front of her sleep clothing to unbutton her top. His eyes stayed on her face, looking for any sign of fear or disapproval. He would not force his woman tonight.

He simply couldn’t resist the urge to touch her softness, feel her wetness, and hear her soft cries when she came for him.

When the fabric opened and fell away from her body, he tore his eyes from her face. Even with the faint lighting, he could still make out her creamy features. His breath stole from his lungs. Her breasts were large, like he preferred.

He traced his callused finger along her jaw, down her neck, over her collarbone, until he reached the full globes. Goose flesh rose up on her body and her eyes narrowed to tiny desire-filled slits. His fingertip circled one nipple, teasing, drawing it out until it puckered into a tightly aroused peak. Eros withdrew his finger, replacing it with his hungry mouth.

She moaned as his lips latched on to the beaded areola, the sound so exquisite that for a moment he closed his eyes in ecstasy. His tongue flicked over the succulent flesh, making the tight berry marble in response. He reached up with his free hand and pinched her other nipple gently between his finger and thumb, the rough pad stimulating her enough for her to release another soft moan.

Eros sucked in once more, then ripped himself away from her breasts. He wanted more, needed more. He would accept nothing less than her complete surrender. He closed his eyes, trying to gather strength enough to be able to stop when the time came.

“
Are you ready for me?” he asked, unable to hide the huskiness in his voice.

She tried to move, but was unable. He smiled at her, then slid down until he rested his arms on her thighs. He leaned forward a few inches above the scrap of material covering the crisp curls of her mound and inhaled. He filled his lungs deeply. She smelled of the sweetest flower, the richest delicacy, her arousal thick and musky in the still night air. It was his turn to bite back a groan.

“You want me little one
?”
Eros breathed in once more, cataloging her scent within his body, taking her essence into his soul, so that if she escaped he’d be able to find her anywhere.

“Yes,” she murmured, her voice thick from the drug.

He had the urge to mark her as his own. Claim her for all time. His hard cock jumped within its confines, demanding the freedom to seek her warm channel.

Not until after the ceremony.
The seer’s warning echoed in his mind.

Eros ran a lone finger along the edge of her lace panties, then pulled out his knife, lifted the seam and sliced them off. He brought the material to his nose, inhaling again, then quickly tucked the ruined panties into his loincloth. His finger delved among her slick folds and into her wet slit, gently separating the petals that hid her fiery pearl.

Rachel mewled.

Her juices gushed over his hand. He brought the finger to his mouth and slipped it inside, tasting her for the first time. His mouth exploded in sensation, savoring, relishing, and filing her unique flavor for future reference.

Exotic like forbidden fruit, she was truly a gift from the goddess.

He pulled the finger from his mouth, maneuvering his bulk to the end of the cot, before slipping both hands onto her rounded thighs, carefully separating them enough until he could press his wide shoulders between them. Her breathing came out ragged, on edge with anticipation.