by Anya Howard
And then the Mistress drew Gillian’s clit into her mouth; she sucked it until it was aching hard. Gillian’s legs strained and her hips went taut, and she felt then the Mistress’s tongue encircle the organ, suck it again, nibble it. Gillian moaned deeply and in turn devoured the Mistress in the same way.
“Aahh,” the woman moaned and suddenly stopped what she was doing. She peered back at Gillian, and her face was contorted with pleasure.
“No, you must stop,” the Mistress whispered.
Gillian wanted to continue to lavish affection upon the succulent flesh, but the Mistress’s stern look stopped her. She was panting, her heart racing; but she lay obediently as the Mistress returned to her own feasting. The woman’s face moved back and forth slowly, as her tongue lapped now at Gillian’s clit, now stuffed her hungry orifice. Gillian’s legs strained and her hips twisted, and her moans sounded low and pitiful in the night. The Mistress’s cherry-red clit peeked out of her jet curls with the rocking of her thighs. Gillian hungered for one last taste of her. Moaning, she turned her face against the Mistress’s thigh. Her lips fell open against her, and when at last a climax spirited through Gillian, she screamed hopelessly into the smooth flesh.
She was half-blind with sensation as the Mistress lapped the juices that squirted out of Gillian’s pulsating sex. The dark woman turned about and crept up beside Gillian. She kissed Gillian’s mouth, her temple, her hair.
Her voice was loving. “Now you may sleep well, precious disobedient one.”
With the last ripple of ecstasy coursing through Gillian’s pelvis, the Mistress enfolded her in an embrace and lavished kisses over her face. Gillian returned these timidly, relieved the woman allowed herself this affection. Gillian couldn’t understand why the Mistress had held back and denied herself that same satisfaction she’d given. At least she allowed her to play with her breasts a little and stroke the dusky nipples until they were hard under her fingertips. Gillian kissed her again and her tongue probed deep into the Mistress’s mouth. Gillian heard her make a sound much like a purr. Gillian’s arms glided about her and took delight in the woman’s solid warmth against her face. Like a dusky panther, the Mistress seemed to Gillian now…a fierce and beautiful creature demanding of respect, yet feral and unswayable in her devotions.
At last the Mistress got up from the bed, and bending down once more, kissed Gillian’s brow.
“Sleep now,” she whispered. “When you wake you shall find your heart’s desire. Not me.” She padded away in the night as soundlessly as she’d come.
For a long time Gillian stared into the shadows behind, wondering what she meant. Never again would she begrudge the Mistress’s discipline. The Mistress had dared disobey her brother to relieve Gillian’s frustrated desires, without demanding solitary devotion back. It was the kind of selfless affection Gillian had thought alien to the Dhjinn-E’nochs.
“Things are not always what they seem,” she said quietly to herself.
Gillian’s thoughts turned to the masterful king; not of how his almost sinfully delicious scent and looks had incited her, but of the time when she’d been alone with him in his private chambers. He’d taken her so wildly then, and in several ways. He had succeeded in making her orgasm with a force that could properly be termed volcanic. And yet, she recalled, for all his possessive passion, he had not climaxed—or at least, not allowed himself to. It made no sense, this restraint of the Dhjinns. But there was a reason for it, though she cared not what it was. This, she was as sure of as the contours of her true lover’s face.
Suddenly she was overwhelmed by the single desire to be with Bruce. In anger her tears flowed and she visualized the Mistress coming to her again, and listening with sympathy and compassion as Gillian shared her most earnest plea. It was the only thing Gillian ever wanted to ask of one of these creatures, and if she didn’t say it now she feared she would never again have the chance.
Her whispered voice shook with emotion. “You may be a free Dhjinn, Mistress, but you are a Dhjinn all the same. Please, if I mean anything to you, grant me this one request—let me be with Bruce!”
She was enveloped in darkness, the kind of darkness that seemed to have a life of its own. Gillian whispered the petition again and again, until it became a mantra on her lips. And after a time she perceived some shift in the pulsating void. There was a gradual softening of the darkness, and Gillian felt a warm breeze against her face. The air smelled different, too; imbued with freshness, and a whiff of the sea and of flowers. She heard the distinct sound of a distant tide, and was aware that the soles of her feet touched earth.
She was nude and divested of every ornament of the Dhjinn king’s claim. Above her, a great orange sun broke through heavy ivory clouds. Several gulls passed overhead and they called to one another with fervent cries. The breeze tossed Gillian’s loose hair over her eyes, and as she pulled it back she now saw that she stood upon a beach. There were great rocks strewn down the shore, and the light of the new sun glinted hazily upon their uneven surface. Gillian stepped toward the shore, delighting in the feel of the cool sand. With the next tide the water lapped over her feet, immersing them in foam that was as white as the sea was turquoise. She wondered if she was alone, and the sea offered silent assurance that she was also free of the Dhjinn King.
Gillian was overcome with gratitude. The Mistress must have taken mercy on her. Although she did not know where to go or even where she was, as she turned to breathe in the beautiful fields of flowers beyond the shore she had no fear. One way or the other she would find a way to face whatever trials this wild new land had in store.
As this assurance settled over her Gillian noticed a movement in the distance. She lifted a hand over her eyes and peered over the stretching beach. A figure was running toward her, bathed in bronze by the morning sun. And as it drew closer she made out the familiar stalwart physique; the warm, manly smile; the dark and ravishing eyes. Gillian’s heart leapt. With a joyous gasp all thought of the Dhjinn washed away like the withdrawing tide. She forgot about the king and even her gratitude toward the Mistress. Memory of their realm and the sensuous trials there disappeared. She could see the eager smile on Bruce’s face, and, laughing, she sprinted across the sands.
They rushed into one another’s arms, and Gillian’s body immediately melted into the contours of Bruce’s strong embrace. His mouth was at her ear, his voice a feral purr.
“I have missed you so much.”
Gillian showered his neck and face with kisses. Her heart raced with the exhilaration of being one with the man she loved. They were together, and she was exactly where she wanted to be. All the worries she’d ever known were worlds away. She cupped Bruce’s face and contemplated on the love in his shining eyes.
“How I love you. Oh, how I love you.”
Bruce drew her down onto her knees and his scorching lips covered her trembling mouth. She felt his hale heartbeat against her breasts, and with her hands she loosened his trousers. His cock was hard and urgent, and as he laid her down into the warm sand, she held to him fiercely. Parting her legs, he drove into her. He thrust greedily, his large hot cock filling her perfectly. Bruce’s hips rocked swiftly, filling Gillian with ravishing sensation. She felt his last, ardent thrust, and heard him cry softly as he climaxed. In its wake Gillian’s pleasure reached its zenith.
“Oh, yes!” she gasped, reveling in the intense waves. “Yes!”
Bruce captured her wrists and pressed them to either side of her head. He watched, smiling, as the pleasure coursed through her. His face glowed with pride and tenderness.
“I love you, my little slave,” he whispered. “In this world and the next. No matter what may come.”
Gillian looked at him through heavy lids. This was the man who had aroused her most intimate passions, who had delivered her to the fruition of her wildest fantasies. The love she felt for him was more poignant than even the pleasures they brought one another; stronger than any force that dared attempt to separate them
. She lifted her face and kissed his lips, relishing their salty taste. His strength sated her entirely.
Bruce kissed her mouth again. The eternal sea roared and the reassuring golden rays of full morning light drenched their flesh. This is heaven, Gillian thought, and she closed her eyes and clutched loving to this man; her true angel and only Master.
APHRODISIA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2009 by Anya Howard
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
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ISBN: 0-7582-4454-1
