[Atlantean's Quest 01] The Arrival (12 page)

“I am known as Eros.”

Rachel laughed. She couldn’t help herself. “Eros? Like the god of love?” She giggled again and wiped at the tears forming in her eyes.

He can’t be serious
.

“I’m no god.”

“Obviously. Eros is a myth.”

He frowned and dropped the clothes at her feet.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” She held up her hand in surrender. “It just struck me as funny.”

“Put that on.” He scowled and pointed to the pile of fabric on the floor.

Obviously he wasn’t used to being teased.

Rachel picked up the outfit. The material started to glow everywhere her fingers touched. She ran the sheer garment over her hands and it turned emerald green. It was beautiful. She looked up into Eros’s handsome face. He appeared satisfied by her reaction.

“Could you please turn around?”

“We are alone, my Queen. You need not hide yourself from my grateful eyes.”

The look Eros gave her appeared almost wounded, as if her asking him to turn hurt him physically, but that wasn’t possible. She waited. Finally he faced the door, the pain on his handsome face unmistakable.

Rachel shucked the last of her clothes and tried to put on the outfit he’d brought. She pulled the skirt over her hips, but it kept slipping down, riding low across her pubic bone. She looked around but couldn’t find the top.

“Eros, I don’t think this is my size.”

He swung around and sucked in an audible breath. Rachel covered her breasts with her hands. She felt heat rise over her body as his eyes took in her almost naked form.

“I need the shirt.”

“There is no covering for your upper body, as is custom.”

“What?” she shouted. “You didn’t tell me anything about going topless.”

“You didn’t ask, my Queen.”

“Stop calling me that.”

Rachel watched his lips twitch. He thought this whole thing was funny. She shook her head, trying to muster up a look of disgust.

“The skirt’s too big,” she said between clenched teeth.

“The skirt fits you well, my
Rachel
.”

It hardly seemed possible, but hearing her name coming from his mouth struck her with more intimate force than when he had called her ”my Queen”. Rachel closed her eyes, trying to block out the sexy man before her. He was way too dangerous for her sensibilities.

She tamped down on her feelings, attempting to keep them out of her mind. Rachel gritted her teeth. “It’s almost falling off me.”

“’Tis as it should be.”

Rachel looked down at the loose material. Her pubic hairs stuck out of the top of the skirt it hung so low. The bottom of the drape material reached her ankles. There was no way she was leaving the hut looking like this.

“’Tis the acceptable covering for the women of my tribe.”

“Well it may be acceptable for them, but it’s not for me. I look like I’m part of a harem.”

Eros flashed a grin. “You will get used to it.”

“I won’t be here long enough to get used to it.”

“We aren’t finished.” Eros raised the brush from the bowl. Red liquid dripped off the end.

“What are you planning to do with th-that…blood?” Rachel’s head swam at the thought of having blood spread across her body.

“’Tis dye from the lipstick plant.” He swirled the liquid around and around the bowl. “I will paint your nipples with it.”

“You’ll what?” She backed up, putting distance between them. “You stay away from me, Eros, and keep your kinky tribe away, too.”

Eros threw back his head and laughed, vibrating his whole body. He set the paintbrush into the dye. “This will not hurt.” He pulled the two gold rings from the side of his loincloth and placed them on the table, then walked to a cabinet that lay hidden in the wall and removed an alien looking instrument that could easily have found a home in a gynecologist office.

“What are you planning on doing with those, and what’s that for?” Rachel pointed to the tool in his hand.

She looked from his face to the table where the gold hoops glowed in the firelight, and back to him. A flash of gold on his chest caught her attention. A flutter rose in her belly as her gaze darted from his nipples to the table and back again.

When had he gotten pierced?

Her eyes widened as it fully dawned on her what he wanted to do with the rings. “Oh, no you don’t. You’re not piercing my nipples.” Rachel tried to dodge around him, but tripped on her stupid, pubis-exposing, floor length skirt. She would have fallen face first had Eros not stepped forward, extended his arm and caught her.

“I promise, Queen Rachel, you will not feel pain.” His voice grew husky and dropped an octave. “Only pleasure.” The words barely left his mouth when Rachel felt her entire body begin to heat from the inside, sending shivery tingles leaping across her skin. He was doing something to her with his hands. She struggled against his firm hold, unable to break the connection.

“Eros, please, no,” she whimpered in defeat.

“Trust me.”

Rachel fought down the heartache and the overwhelming urge to cry as she remembered another man asking her to trust him. She recalled the agony of finding her fiancé, Stan, in the arms of his bubble-headed blonde secretary, Bambi “boom-boom” Murphy.

Her muscles tensed and she held her breath as Eros raised the first gold hoop to her left nipple, then stopped before he touched her quivering skin. Tears pooled in her eyes and she released a ragged sigh.

Eros lowered his hands and tentatively gripped her arms, his fingertips lightly trailing over her flesh until goosebumps rose. He leaned forward until his forehead touched hers, skin against skin. His breathing, shallow and labored, matched hers breath for breath.

“I am not Stan,” he murmured, then rubbed his nose across hers in an Eskimo kiss.

His thumb switched from stroking her arm to gently caressing her nipple, grazing the sensitive nerves with his fingernail, teasing the nub until it tightened and peaked.

Eros dropped to his knees before her and sucked the tip between his lips. He moaned against her breast, licking, nipping, arousing. The rumbling sound only served to enhance her need. He filled his hands with her fullness, devouring her with his insatiable hunger.

Rachel was tired of fighting, tired of trying to resist the carnal demands her body was making on her. Hell, she was tired of being celibate. Men were capable of fucking ’em and forgetting ’em, so why couldn’t she be?

With that last fleeting thought, Rachel lost herself in the moment, unable to think or even speak. She relished the feel of Eros feeding at her ample bosom. Her head dropped back, exposing the long column of her neck. She moaned, sinking her trembling fingers into Eros’s blond locks. He was satin and fire all rolled up into one and she couldn’t get enough.

Eros guided the hoop in place. A quick pop and Rachel’s left nipple was pierced.

Rachel jumped, her unfocused gaze latching upon the gold hoop now dangling from her areola. She’d all but forgotten what his original intention had been. As promised, she didn’t feel a thing.

Eros smiled. He knew his eyes were as glazed over as hers. He stuck out his tongue. Only then did he see surprise register on Rachel’s flushed face. Eros watched emotion flash in her eyes as memories from that night in her tent flooded her mind. Her right nipple beaded instantly.

He swirled his tongue around the kernelled bead a couple times, refusing to break eye contact with Rachel. Her breathing deepened and she closed her eyes. Eros took that moment to finish the piercing. It was done. She was officially claimed in the eyes of the Atlantean people. He stood. The heat flowing from his hands intensified and the wounds healed before his eyes, along with cleansing her body of the dirt and sweat that had accumulated.

Rachel looked up into his face, stunned, unable to move. Never in her life could she imagine being pierced anywhere but her ears. The rings made her feel sexy, dangerous and more than a little naughty. She watched Eros pick up the bowl and raise the paintbrush to each nipple, leaving red dye in its place.

The bristles stroked and tickled. Eros swished the brush back and forth and an answering wetness formed between her legs.

She swallowed hard. Heaven help her, she was getting so turned on. In another minute or two, she’d end up attacking him if he didn’t stop.

Eros dropped the brush into the dye and pulled his knife from its sheath. He raised the blade to Rachel’s waist, then lowered the knife to her pubic bone.

“Uh uh. No way. Not a chance.” Rachel backed away with her hands held out to prevent Eros’s next move. “It’s one thing to pierce my nipples, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting you near my clit. So you can forget about it.”

Eros laughed heartily. The deep rumbling sound washed over her like the spray from a waterfall. His eyes sparkled with mirth. He wiped his hand across his face, apparently trying to hide his amused smile.

“The blade is not for piercing, ‘tis for shaving.”

Rachel’s body throbbed with need. Just the thought of his hands on her, shaving her bare was enough to almost send her over the edge. The intimacy of the act was on par with a man painting her toenails, although she’d yet to experience that either. She felt like a mass of electrified nerve endings, reaching out to make contact with the one being that could ground them. The rings on her nipples felt cool against her heated skin.

He closed the distance between them and carefully brought the blade to her mound. With precision, he began to shave her pubic hair off.

With the first scrape of the cool steel across her sensitive skin, Rachel’s pussy lips became drenched in her own juices. Each stroke of the razor’s sharp edge was erotic, intoxicating—intimate. Her clit began to swell and pulse, until Rachel was incapable of anything more than animalistic moans.

Eros sliced over her tuft-covered skin once more and Rachel’s knees buckled. He held her firm in his arms, pressing her into his side until he’d completed his task. He sheathed his knife and lifted up a corner of her skirt, sliding one hand beneath, scraping his short nails across her hip.

Rachel shuddered. Her body felt as if it would fly apart in a million pieces. Eros placed his hand upon her abdomen. The same intense heat that she’d felt earlier seemed to concentrate its energy on her womb, then lower still. Her body convulsed, as an orgasm hit that literally knocked her off her feet.

Eros sat on the floor and pulled Rachel onto his lap. He ran a fingertip along her slit. Wetness covered him as he sought out her pleasure center. He massaged his way up and down her outer lips, teasing her, drawing out her satisfaction. One finger slipped inside her tight opening. She felt like heaven on Earth.

His cock throbbed and pulsed under the loincloth. He grit his teeth and continued finger fucking her. Rachel’s eyes closed and her body trembled. He pulled his wet finger out and circled her clit. She moaned. He looped around and around until her breath came out in panting gasps.

Her body’s tremors started once more from deep inside and radiated out. He kept up the lazy motions, leaning down to cover her mouth with his, hungry, wanting, and needing much more.

Eros captured her scream as Rachel came once again. He kissed her deeply, pulling her into his chest, probing the recesses of her mouth with his seeking tongue. She tasted of the sweetest honey, the tangiest nectar, and she was his…all his.

Rachel’s body swayed with the force of her second orgasm. Eros had promised her pleasure and he’d delivered. His kisses were heated with a passion beyond her comprehension.

Eros, the god of love.

What was she doing
? She pushed against his muscled chest, trying to free herself from his lap. She had to get away from this godlike man before she did something stupid, like agree to stay. Rachel shoved again.

He broke the kiss reluctantly and allowed her to pull away. His eyes were glazed and his hard-on was enormous. Rachel felt an instant pang of regret. She missed the warmth of being held in his arms. The comfort of his touch.

She didn’t need this. She didn’t need him. She had a life, an apartment—a job waiting for her back in New York. It’d be for the best if she tried to remember that. Jac and Brigit were probably worried sick.

And why in the hell did I let him pierce my nipples?

Rachel stood and took a step back, hoping that the little space would afford her more breathing room and better sense. “Thanks, but I don’t want you getting the idea that I’m easy, just because I let you…let you…”

“Pleasure you?” He raised a wicked eyebrow.

“Why did you,” she paused searching for the right words, “do all this?”

“To prepare you for the mating ceremony.”

She could not have heard him right. “For what?”

“You heard me, Rachel.”

Rachel pushed her hair away from her face and began nervously twisting the strands into a bun. She always wore her hair up when she had a serious meeting at work to attend. It made her feel confident, professional—and she needed all those traits now.

She blew out an unsteady breath. “I heard you. I just don’t believe you. There really must be some mistake. I’m no Queen. I’m not a Princess. I’m not even a native New Yorker.” Rachel dropped her hair and began kneading her palms. “I’m just plain ol’ Dr. Rachel Evans from Salem, Massachusetts.”

Eros followed her with his eyes, patiently listening to all her reasons of denial. “That was your old existence,” he said, folding his arms over his broad chest. “Here you are Queen to the people of Atlantis.”

“Sure.” She smiled in a let’s-soothe-the-man-who-forgot-to-take-his-medication-way. “I’m Queen,” she pointed to herself, “and you’re from the fabled city of Atlantis.” She shook her head and began to pace. A nervous giggle escaped her throat. “Just my luck, I meet a gorgeous guy and he’s crazy.”

“You know I speak the truth. You’ve witnessed my powers.”

“I realize you believe that what you’re saying to me is the truth.” She stopped and raised her hands. “But it’s crazy, not to mention impossible, since Atlantis has never been proven to exist. Besides at this moment, I’m convinced I definitely have malaria or some other fever-inducing malady. I’m not sure if anything I’m seeing is real.”