by Jodie Becker
She placed a cautious hand on his shoulder. The cool, slick feel of his skin gave her pause. What would cause him to—? Her heart leaped to her throat as he jerked from her and surged to his feet. His gaze, filled with fear and misery, sliced through her. What was the matter with him?
"Dane?” She rested her hand on his chest and was surprised to find his heart beating wildly. “Is something wrong?"
His lips curled back in a hateful sneer even as his eyes spoke of his desperate need for comfort. “Go away."
"No. You're cold, come by the fire."
"I don't need it. Leave me be,” he rasped.
She grasped his fingers and tugged him toward the fireplace. “Don't be ridiculous, you're as cold as ice."
Jamilah forced Dane forward until the warmth of the fire licked at her skin. She stopped and pressed her hand on his shoulder until he sat on the reed mat. For all his male bluster and harshness, she sensed something truly bothered him.
Crossing her legs, she sat beside him. Her gaze ran over the harsh lines of his features that were drawn taut in misery. His attention remained fixated on the flickering flames, and Jamilah dropped her hand on his arm, her heart filling with empathy for his pain.
His hard gaze fell on her.
"Tell me what's troubling you. Maybe I can help."
He chuckled. It was a harsh sound that lacked humor. “Help me? I can't help me.” He rapped a fist to his temple as though attempting to knock a thought from his head. “I just want it to end."
A warm emotion and need like she'd never known expanded in her chest and encased her heart like a soft embrace. She touched his jaw and forced him to look at her she gazed into his eyes, hoping her own showed how much she trusted and loved him.
Loved? She did. She wanted to ease his pain and make it her own, if she could.
"Dane, please, let me ease what is paining you,” she whispered, running her thumb over the bristles of his cheek.
"Mila,” he whispered raggedly. His eyes slid shut, and the blond lashes fanned his cheek.
"If I could make this pain my own, I would. For you."
His eyes opened, filled with love and shock. “No. Don't ever wish that, love."
Her heart skipped a beat at the endearment. “Then let me ease your turmoil for just a while."
Cupping his face, she drew him down and touched her mouth to his. His opened to her, and his groan reverberated through the room. Her tongue slid into his mouth to taste him and swirled in a delicious duel with his.
His fingers moved over her arms and up the column of her neck to cup her face. Pulling back slightly, she drew his lower lip in her mouth and suckled. His breath shuddered from him.
She pushed against him until he lay back, and his passion-filled expression sent a thrill of delight through her. Mounting him, she rubbed her sex against the hard planes of his stomach, and a brush of erotic delight swirled through her at the simple movement.
He sat up, and the movement forced her to sit firmly against the rough fabric of his jeans. The friction made her gasp. His mouth closed over one of her nipples through the sheer fabric of her gown. His tongue swirled around the bud, and she slid her hands through his locks to hold him there as he suckled. Pleasure spiraled outward as she rode against him, her pussy throbbing for him.
He turned his attention to the other pebbled nipple, his hot breath skittering over her sensitive skin before he showed it equal fervor.
"Please,” she murmured, desperate to feel his skin on hers.
He pulled back, his heated gaze slicing through her. He shifted beneath her, raised one knee and eased her back against the warm mat. His hands tugged at her gown and slipped it over her head. He placed a gentle kiss on the underside of her breast, then murmured her name before he trailed a hot tongue along the line of her abdomen.
Jamilah gasped as his fingers ran erotic circles along her inner thigh, a scant inch from where she wanted him. He placed a reverent kiss at the peak of her femininity, and she gritted her teeth against the pleasure that boiled there.
With gentle fingers he parted her, and his fiery gaze only added a new dimension to her erotic torture. She loved the way he gazed at her as though she were some priceless artifact.
Leaning forward, Dane touched her with his mouth, and heat burst from the center of her. His velvet tongue whirled around her clit, and he suckled, sending a spike of delight through her body.
He tasted her, lapping her juices up like confection. His hot breath skittered over her. Moaning, she parted her legs. Her hand threaded into his hair in a silent plea for him to continue.
His finger pushed into her, sliding deliciously within as her hips undulated with it. Oh God, it felt so good. He placed his mouth on her sensitive nub, and alternated between suckling and licking while his finger pistoned her.
Ecstasy coiled within her and another finger joined the first, making her cry out. “Dane, oh God, Dane!"
"Yess,” he hissed against her.
Then everything fell apart. Light flared behind her eyes as she came.
Dane gasped for a breath, her glorious taste still on his tongue. Easing over her, he brushed a lock of hair from her face. Never had he been tempted so by a woman. Only Jamilah. His beautiful, giving Mila. His heart expanded with love. A love that overflowed and yearned to be revealed. How long did he have before his counterpart took him over completely? Would he be able to hold this moment to his heart before he greeted oblivion, knowing it had been just him and Jamilah?
She opened her eyes, the warm brown swimming with happiness, trust and a deep love. His heart faltered, then picked up pace. She loved him. Him, not this thing within him.
"Mila,” he whispered, then took her mouth in a deep, drugging kiss.
"Please, Dane. Make love to me,” she whispered against his lips. Her arms twined around his neck, and he almost wept for the joy that burgeoned within.
He quickly removed his pants, then settled between her legs, his cock resting over the springy curls that protected her femininity. Beautiful goddess, I worship thee at thy altar; the reverent prayer ran through his mind. She was a goddess. His goddess.
Desire built up and rose like a raging fire within him, and he shifted, sliding the head of his penis into her moist channel. The walls of her vagina clenched around him, and he gasped, unsure if he could last under such delicious torture. Gritting his teeth, Dane closed his eyes and slammed into her.
Embedded in her moist heat, he hissed out a breath. She felt so good. Nothing compared to any of his imaginings. It transcended it all. Tentatively, he eased back and thrust again. The pleasure doubled, then redoubled. Her breath brushed the side of his cheek, and her soft legs rose along his hips and wrapped around him.
Bracing himself, Dane retreated, then pushed into her again. Her cry of joy and ecstasy brushed over him and engraved itself forever on his heart. Wildly seeking what they both desired, he drove into her. The slick sounds of sex intermingled with the musky scent of her and seared through his mind. Dane opened his eyes and drank in her beauty as tears glazed her eyes. Gods, she was his. Only his.
He surged forward, and bliss twined through him as he listened to the crescendo of her cries. The walls of her vagina clenched and pulsated around him. Losing all of his self-control, he grunted and pumped into her, and abandoned himself in her sweet heat as he came with a groan.
He collapsed, breathing harshly, and tendrils of her hair tickled his skin. One of her hands cupped the back of his neck, while the other trailed leisurely along his spine. He jerked as she hit a particularly ticklish spot, and she giggled. His love had a delightful giggle.
"Ticklish,” she murmured in his ear.
Dane pushed up on his elbows to ease some of his weight off her. “A little."
Her eyes glittered with happiness. “Good to know."
A cold wind shifted through the room and skittered along his back like a cruel reminder of his place in reality. He wanted to remain where he was. Forever. But it
wasn't to be so. He'd paid his price for her life, and now faced the consequences. Sighing, he regretfully pulled himself from her warm embrace, and set a distance between them.
His gaze ran over her naked form, the peaks of her nipples and smooth plains of her body, committing them to memory.
She rolled onto her side. “Lie down with me."
A smile pulled at his lips. “All right."
He slid up behind her, her buttocks resting against him as they spooned. With gentle fingers, he shifted aside her hair, then placed a kiss on the back of her neck. “I love you,” he whispered.
"Hmm?” she glanced at him, a question in her eyes.
He shook his head. “Nothing."
He dropped his head on his hand, his gaze focused on the flickering flames. How long did he have to bask in the love he and Jamilah were sharing? He dipped his head to look at her sleeping visage, and kissed the back of her earlobe.
"No matter what happens,” he whispered tenderly. “Know that I love you and will readily accept my death for you."
Chapter Eight
Set threw aside another dead follower, his claws stained with blood. The body hit the ground with a dull thud, and he stepped over it. Within the bedroom that had served as her private chambers, several other followers cowered under his wrath. Useless beings. How could they not sense a presence within his territory? A growl bubbled to the back of his throat. How did that human manage to get past his notice?
But Set knew. He knew deep within how. That measly, pathetic human wasn't just that. The human harbored something with a power so familiar Set was struck blind by it. Blind. He couldn't sense them anywhere after they'd pitched through the window.
Pacing the length of the room, he cast an angry glare over the jewels that lined the armoire. With a roar, the swiped his hand over the perfume bottles and makeup that rested on the wooden surface, knocking them to the floor. Unfaithful bitch. She'd left with that lower being despite the glory she would've had with him.
Where was that damned seer? He hadn't seen hide nor hair of the old hag since he'd sensed a presence in his domain.
His domain.
He whirled on the cowering humans within the room. “I want her and that infidel found and brought back here to face my wrath, or so help me, you shall take their places."
The useless humans scurried from the room to do as he'd bidden. And so they should.
He pressed a bloody finger against the bridge of his nose and released a breath through his canines. Those eyes on that human looked so familiar, yet he couldn't place where he'd seen them before.
In any case, he couldn't account for the fear that bit at the edge of his composure.
* * * *
The soft wind filtered through the bed-curtains, and Jamilah sighed as she stretched against their large bed. A deep sense of contentment hummed within her. Her clothing, sheer and free, allowed air to touch her skin.
Sitting up, she stared through the semi-transparent burgundy fabric surrounding the bed, and eyed a familiar form standing beside the bed. His broad shoulders were silhouetted against the sunlight that shone through the large, arched window.
"Come to bed, my love,” she said.
He pushed the curtain aside, his shadowy form moving forward. His knee pressed against the edge of the bed. “Beloved, it has been so long."
Jamilah laughed. “Come now, surely not that long."
"It feels like centuries,” he said as he dropped a smooth muscular arm over the other side of her body, forcing her to lie back once more.
Her hand dropped over the top of her head as she smiled up at his visage, which was oddly still cast in shadows. She felt incredibly safe in his embrace. He ran a knuckle along her jawline, down her neck and over the swell of her breast. A moan passed her lips as his fingertip circled the nipple. Arching her back, she lifted a knee and tipped it to the side slightly, exposing herself to him.
Never in her life had she felt so loved, so cherished ... so worshipped.
"My love,” she whispered, sliding her hands though his thick locks.
His head dipped, and his hot breath skittered across her breast while his fingers made erotic circles along her inner thigh, toward her center and then out again. He cupped her knee with his palm and forced it farther out.
A deep, possessive growl rumbled in his chest, and Jamilah frowned at the underlying malice in his tone. It was so unlike Dane. Nails dug into the soft skin of her thigh and burned painfully. Crying out, she clenched fists in his hair and jerked him back.
And screamed.
Eyes of blood red stared down at her. The jackal-like features sent a spark of terror through her. “Mine!” he roared.
"No!” Jamilah jerked up and out of the dream.
Her gaze snapped around the quiet chamber, and she found herself very much alone. Fear bit at her with fetid teeth. Oh, my God, where was Dane? With a sob, she searched for her clothing. The feeling of violation slithered across her body. Clutching the dress to her, she sniffled, and a tear slid down her cheek.
She stood and shrugged into her clothes, then glanced around her. Surely Dane hadn't left her, she rationalized as panic began to grow within her. The soft sound of water trickling drew her attention.
Curious, she stepped around the fire and out of the room. The cool sand softened the sound of her footsteps, even as the bells on her anklet echoed in the hall. A gentle splash of water sounded to her right. Following it, she peeked into a chamber door to find Dane, bathing himself in an indoor spa.
What in the world? She glanced at the large hole in the ceiling that let a shaft a light into the room. Large stones lay within the room, worn by age. Could it be that the room wasn't created to be an indoor pool, but was filled with water from the rain?
She stepped further inside, and her gaze fell on a depiction on the wall of a pharaoh and his queen standing under the sun god Ra. Awed by its perfect condition, her hands tingled to touch it. It was almost as though it had been painted only a few months ago.
Dane turned toward her, his eyes filled with delight. Wordlessly he held out his hand, an invitation for her to join him in the water. A thrill ran through her. She removed her dress and dropped it before stepping into the water. The waist-high water brushed along her body as she approached him.
He wrapped her in his embrace, the action so tender it almost brought tears to her eyes. “I thought you left me,” she whispered.
"Never.” He kissed the top of her head.
"I had a horrible dream,” she said into his chest.
His arms tightened around her, a silent encouragement to continue.
Pushing back, she looked into the warm depths of his eyes. She was safe here. Safe with him. “That man, Set. He came to me and ... I thought he was you, but he wasn't, and he tried to force himself on me.” She shivered at the memory.
Dane's lips thinned, and a subtle shift in his behavior came to the fore. “Set,” he hissed. “I won't let him hurt you."
She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “I know."
Dane eased from their embrace, his features filled with concern as he tipped her chin back with a finger. “Did he touch you?"
She shook her head.
He searched her face. “I meant at the palace, before I got there. Did he touch you?"
She hesitated. She didn't mean to, but she couldn't shake what Set had said to her before he'd left. “No."
"Don't lie to me,” Dane said, sotto voce.
Worrying her lower lip, she stared at him. His features were rife with anger, possessiveness and ... fear. She cupped his jaw, loving the way his skin felt under her hand. “He didn't touch me in the way you think. He tried to make me ... remember him. But he had me confused with someone else."
His eyes narrowed. “With whom?"
Her laugh echoed through the room. “He thought I was Isis."
When Dane didn't reciprocate her amusement but continued to stare at her with
such seriousness, her humor shriveled.
"Isis,” he whispered.
She didn't like how he said the goddess’ name like some sort of epiphany. “Dane, I'm not Isis."
He smiled. “No, you're not.” He dipped his head and kissed her collarbone, sending a spiral of desire through her.
"Dane...” she whispered, arching her body back.
He trailed a kiss along the line of her shoulder, along her breasts and circled her nipple with his tongue. Her leg rode up his hip. She stretched her arms over her head and fingered the water's surface as he worshipped her body.
Desire spiraled through her as a fire inside her burned for release. His hands lifted her upright. She ran her palms up his slick body and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She gazed into his eyes, captured by the heat there.
He cupped her ass and brought her up against him. Wordlessly, she closed her legs around his waist as his cock tickled her. Shifting her slightly, he impaled her on his hard shaft, her cry of joy echoing in the room.
He pumped into her, and the delicious friction twined through her body, coiling as she followed his rhythm. His harsh breath skittered over her ear, and he licked her earlobe. “Take it,” he rumbled.
"Yes,” she hissed, pushing against him in this fierce mating, which added a new dimension to her pleasure.
She knew he needed her as much as she needed him.
He pinched her nipple, the pleasure/pain melding as she gasped. Her thighs trembled and clenched around his hips. Ecstasy coiled within her, the hot fingers of bliss sliding through her soul. She arched her back, her eyes shut against the small waves of pleasure that began to roil through her.
"Who do you want?” Dane gasped, his voice torn between torment and desire.
Jamilah drew herself flush against him as he continued to thrust into her. Moaning, she ran a hand along his jawline. He shifted his head and kissed her palm.
"Tell me who do you want, him or me?” he grunted, his eyes filled with a fierce passion.
Jamilah could barely put two words together, and her hips arched into him. “You ... Oh, you, Dane!"
