And then Akenov wanted her—but this time, he took Jane from the pool and brought her to the bed where they’d first been. He put her on her hands and knees and slipped his cock into her mouth. Zenovia watched with sharp, cold eyes as Jane sucked and stroked the massive rod that filled her mouth. Its length made her gag and choke, and its girth was enough to stretch her lips as she moved up and down, sliding back and forth with her saliva lubricating the way.
Just as Jane felt the sizzle of cum sliding up inside the length of his cock, Akenov pulled himself away and turned to Zenovia. He barely made it to her in time, thrusting home just as his seed shot forth. At the very least, one had to give him credit for doing his duty.
But Jane didn’t really care. All she wanted was rest, and sleep.
At last, as the light waned and darkness fell, they seemed to tire of her, and all three of them collapsed into slumber on the bed. Jane was lined up between Akenov and Zenovia, each of them with a possessive hand on her body. Akenov behind, with his hand covering her breast from the rear, and Zenovia in front, with her hand slipped between Jane’s legs—as if to protect her from any unwanted advances from the man.
Now, as Jane awoke, she lay very quiet, wondering what had awakened her. She should have been dead to the world for hours. During their slumber, both of her lovers had lost their hold on her, and there was space—blessed space!—between her body and that of Zenovia’s.
That was when she realized what had pulled her from her slumber. Akenov was no longer in the bed next to her.
Jane had hardly absorbed this information when a shadow loomed over her, and a hand covered her mouth. She stiffened—and for a moment, a brief, hopeful moment—she thought it was Zaren who stood over the bed.
But it was Akenov’s lean body that moved, sliding onto the mattress next to her, his hand stifling any sound she would make.
Her eyes met his in the dim light, and though Jane could see little but shadowy shapes, she could read the determination in his movements and touch.
His hand fixed over her lips, he settled himself over her, pushing her legs apart as he eased between them. Jane’s eyes goggled, and she went rigid with fear—for Zenovia was right there. Right next to them. Any movement, surely any movement at all would awaken her—and then…Jane shuddered with nausea.
She was already meant to be punished. But if Zenovia caught them at this—
Jane tried to shake her head free from Akenov’s hand, but it was firm, as if glued to her mouth, his fingers pinching into her face and crushing her lips against her teeth.
She had no choice but to lie still and pray he would finish quickly and with as little movement as possible. That was her only hope. Yes, Zenovia would be furious with Akenov, but she’d already been outsmarted by the man once—possibly even more. Jane was certain any fury from the woman would be directed at herself more than at the man who now bent to press his lips to her neck.
Jane went still, shocked at the sudden, tender touch on her skin. No, she thought, fighting away the sizzle of pleasure zipping down to her belly. No, no, no! This isn’t going to help.
But he was insistent: tasting her, nibbling sharply at her throat as his ready cock pressed against her quim. He was large and warm and strong, his body lined up along hers in a way Zenovia had not allowed earlier. It had been a long time since she’d had a man against her—inside her—and Jane couldn’t control a shiver of lust when she recognized the smooth slide of his muscles, and felt the rough sensation of his body hair brushing against hers.
Please just do it, she thought desperately—even as he teased and taunted her, kissing, licking the delicate zone at the side of her neck. She couldn’t hold herself still; he was drawing pleasure and lust from deep inside her. It was almost as if he were making love to her—and that was not part of the plan. Not anything she wished to be part of.
“You’re so lovely,” he murmured into her ear, then jammed his tongue deep inside her ear, hard and strong. Jane twitched and gasped behind his hand, delicious licks of desire growing hotter and more insistent as he blew gently therein, all the while fully aware of the thick, tumescent cock between her legs. The soft tickling sensation at her ear was unbearable, and she closed her eyes in an attempt to keep herself from awakening Zenovia.
Above all, she mustn’t do that. The very thought brought cold terror to her heart, and some of her lust eased.
“I am utterly enchanted by you, Jane,” Akenov said, moving to her other ear and the other side of her throat, where he continued to tease and woo her with his lips and tongue. He shifted, pressing his cock against her…sliding and moving enough to awaken all of her nerve endings, finding just the right spot, pushing against her sensitive little pip.
Overcome by hot, rolling waves of desire, Jane could do nothing but allow herself to accept his touch and the skillfulness of his mouth and try to keep still. She dared not move.
She grew wet and swollen, pressing against the hot length of his cock as he trailed kisses along her neck and throat, to the top of her chest and down over one breast. She tightened, expecting the rough onslaught of his prior actions—but again, Akenov was soft and easy, swirling his tongue around the hard point of her nipple as if he had all night to do so. To tease and coax her into submission.
As if the woman who would kill him—kill them both—wasn’t lying less than a finger’s length away.
Zenovia moved, moaning in her sleep, reaching out blindly for her slave. Jane nearly passed out from terror as her mistress’s hand settled on her arm, narrowly missing a brush against Akenov’s torso.
Her heart rammed in her chest as she looked up at Akenov, knowing her eyes were wide and wild in her face, pleading for him to release her—even though he couldn’t see those details the dark. Surely he understood.
“Be still, my enchantress,” he murmured into her ear as Zenovia’s fingers touched her on the arm. She felt his mouth stretching in a smile against her cheek and realized he is enjoying this!
Terror tightened in her chest again as he eased away enough to aim his cock where it wanted to go—pointing against her slick, wet quim, finding the soft, welcoming opening there as Jane closed her eyes, praying Zenovia wouldn’t open hers. The chieftain’s hand was still closed over Jane’s arm, and she feared that any movement that jolted her limb would awaken her mistress.
But when Akenov fitted his large, dripping cock head against her, and then pushed himself inside, all thoughts of Zenovia vanished. Jane’s eyes flew open wider than ever—but this time, it was from pleasure and want. She moaned behind his hand, grateful now for the muffling effect, for she couldn’t hold back the sound of repletion, of anticipation, as he filled her.
He was enjoying it too—and he moved very carefully, slowly and steadily, in and out, still covering her mouth with one hand, propped up by another. Their bodies touched now only where they were joined as Jane’s legs fell open and she angled her hips—she couldn’t help it—to meet his easy thrusts.
Still aware of the threat lying next to them, anchoring to her, Jane tried to remain still, tried to keep from moving and moaning and shivering—but it was impossible. Akenov was beautiful and skilled, and Jane could no more resist him than any other man who knew how to play a woman’s body so perfectly.
Her desire grew, rising in a billowing sort of cyclone that could not be contained: swirling and circling through her, rolling powerfully inside her as he kept the rhythm slow and steady—yet, oh, not quite where she needed it. Not exactly what she needed. No, she was desperate for more, for speed and power and force. She needed him to hit her hard, to thrust and shove and slam into her…
And then with a soft, erotic groan just above her ear, Akenov came on one last, easy slide, pulsing and emptying himself inside her as he panted softly above.
Jane arched, biting her lip in frustration, her little pearl throbbing in wait for satiation that wouldn’t come. She moved against him impudently, feeling the thick slide of cock as it shifted inside her
channel, pressed neatly against her pearl…but not quite right. Just not quite right.
Akenov’s soft laugh was low enough for her to hear, but not enough to awaken Zenovia. To Jane’s surprise, he reached between them to find her ready pip, and, slick with his and her juices, he used a finger to coax her into a sharp, happy orgasm.
Jane shivered, smothering her gasp of relief as she tipped over into pleasure, hardly aware of those possessive fingers brushing her arm.
“More,” Akenov muttered into her ear as he sank onto the bed next to her, sliding off to the opposite side from Zenovia. “I want more, my enchantress.”
He covered her mouth with his, pulling Jane toward him, full frontal against his torso, and pushing her hand between them to cover his cock.
But just then, Zenovia shifted alarmingly. With a loud sigh, she reached for Jane’s arm. Before Akenov could react, the chieftain had pulled Jane close to her, sliding an arm around her body and nestling her up against her breasts.
Even Akenov dared not make another move now.
And, thankfully, Jane’s lover was still asleep enough—or exhausted enough—to merely hold her in sleep, rather than to begin an exploration of her body that would lead to another encounter.
With relief mingled and apprehension, Jane closed her eyes and was allowed to fall into sleep once again.
But it was a sleep encumbered by the dark, intense eyes of Akenov, and his promise: “I want more.”
— VI —
Jane opened her eyes once more.
The chamber was still dark, and once more, she was sandwiched between Akenov and Zenovia. For a moment, she wondered if she’d dreamed about Akenov lifting himself over her, sliding inside, and teasing her into satiation.
But no…the memory was so intense, so clear in her mind, she knew it had been real.
And he’d managed to do it all undetected. She gave a little quake of relief that her mistress didn’t seem to realize what had occurred immediately next to her in the bed. Thank Providence.
And sometime in the latter part of the night, after the interlude with Akenov, Zenovia had allowed her slave to slip from her grasp once again…leaving Jane free and unencumbered. She lay there for a moment, but realized she needed to rise and relieve herself. And surely the moment she moved one of them would awaken and be on her with greedy lips, tongue, hands…
But at last she could lie still no longer, and raised herself up on shaky arms as gently and quietly as possible. Hardly daring to breathe, she eased down toward the foot of the bed, careful not to touch either of them. Neither shifted, nor did their breathing change, and Jane felt a rush of relief as she lifted herself from the bed.
Her legs were unsteady and she wanted to wince with every step, but she made her way quickly to the commode in the corner. Then she caught sight of the welcoming steam of the pool, and without hesitation, took the opportunity to sink down into the hot water.
Though she stifled her groan of relief, Jane knew it was the most honest and true sensation her body had felt since arriving here on Amazonia. The heat soothed her sore muscles and tender flesh, and she sat, eyes closed, relishing a rare moment of solitude and relaxation.
But it was only a moment before her eyes bolted open. Zaren. Dear God, she had to find him—had to find a way to speak to him, to make him understand what had happened. To beg his forgiveness…and if he wouldn’t give her that, at least to beg of him to take her from here.
Surely he was still here. Surely he hadn’t arrived and then left in a matter of hours. He must still be here in the fortress-castle.
If she could slip out of the chamber, perhaps she could find him. Both of her bedmates were sleeping. Jane could even hear the soft rumble of the chieftain’s snores, and that gave her the impetus she needed to rise from the pool.
She was going to find Zaren. She’d take the chance of disobeying and being caught—for whatever the punishment might be, it could be no worse that losing the man she loved.
Feeling stronger and steadier, Jane padded silently over to a cabinet that looked as if it would hold clothing. She was relieved to find a stack of folded togas inside, and quickly slung one on, then pinned it at the shoulder. Though she still wore the brass cuffs at her wrists and the ugly collar that marked her position as slave, Jane felt surprisingly liberated dressed in clean clothing on her own. This gave her greater confidence: she would find Zaren, and they would both leave this horrible place.
With one last glance back at the bed, confirming that neither Zenovia nor Akenov had moved, Jane moved through the silken draperies to the other side of the chamber—a place she hadn’t yet seen.
To her surprise and delight, tall windows studded the wall, and on the opposite side was a door. It was likely Zenovia had stationed a guard outside, just in case something happened with Akenov—or in the event Jane decided to do precisely what she was doing—so Jane’s first option was the windows.
The first thing she noticed was that it was just beginning to get light outside, and so the illumination was gray-turning-to-blue. That would help her move about unnoticed, and so would the fact that the windows were covered only by shutters. Jane couldn’t believe her good fortune when she peered through the cracked shutters to discover that not only did the window open into a courtyard, but no one appeared to be about.
She was just about to climb through the window when a long, low sigh came from the direction of the bed on the other side of the silken drapes. Her heart stuttered and her body went cold. She froze and waited, listening, but there was no further rustling or sighing, and after a moment, all went silent.
Her mouth dry, hands trembling, Jane wasted no further time. She gathered up the skirt of her toga and climbed through the window, which was only knee-high from the ground.
Once outside, she stepped onto cool, damp grass and breathed in fresh air. Fresh air. She’d been on a ship or locked up inside the Amazonian fortress for weeks, and this brief moment of freedom and silence was beautiful.
But she had no time to spare, for as soon as Zenovia—or Akenov—awakened, they would be looking for her. Wanting her. Jane shuddered, and to be truthful, a part of that shudder was one of remembered pleasure and lust. But not very much of it. Most of it was exhaustion and apprehension.
Jane kept close to the building as she edged along the wall of the courtyard, using elements of the garden—benches, statues, a fountain, and even some weeping and cascading trees—to hide herself as much as possible. There were windows all along the courtyard like the one through which she’d clambered, and she peeked inside each one in hopes of finding Zaren.
She could only assume—hope—that he had been afforded hospitality as that of a guest rather than a prisoner, as she’d been. If that was the case, it was reasonable to hope he’d be in one of these comfortable rooms.
Jane’s determination paid off. As she came to the end of one of the courtyard walls and peeked inside the last window, she saw a long male arm uncovered by the sheets that covered the rest of a sprawled body. Her heart leapt with joy. She would know Zaren—or any part of him—anywhere. She knew it was him.
Jane climbed silently through the window, her heart pounding crazily. Taking care to ensure there were no other watching eyes in the form of servants or guards, she hesitated and looked around. Nothing. No one. Silence, but for his even breathing. Then she began to make her way to the large bed in the center of the chamber. She’d taken barely two steps from the window when Zaren moved, shifting and rolling, seeming to awaken rather suddenly.
His handsome face—that beloved, chiseled one—became illuminated by the growing dawn spilling from the window through which she’d just climbed. Jane’s belly flipped, her heart softening with love and hope…and then just as quickly, her mood changed and she froze, suddenly terrified of his reaction when he saw her. Would he send her away? Would he shout for the guards? Or worse…would he merely look at her with disdain?
Had she ever even seen disdain on Zaren’s face?
He was so kind, so fair-minded, so…sensitive.
But…yes, she had, she realized with a horrid start. Today—no, yesterday. Yesterday, when he’d seen her with Zenovia in the court. Jane’s insides tightened unpleasantly. He had looked at her that way then. As if she were a bug he’d just as soon not even take the energy to squash.
But no. Surely he didn’t truly hate her. Surely not. But her throat was dry and that made it difficult to swallow, and Jane found herself easing up against the wall, just out of his eyeshot as he moved, coming fully awake. A muscular hand flung away the bed coverings, and Jane barely held back a gasp of shock when she saw the naked female body lying next to Zaren.
No. No, no, no… Her heart shattered violently, and sudden tears stung her eyes. Even as she knew it was unfair for her to be hurt or angry, she felt both of those emotions rushing through her. How could you, Zaren?
At least he had a choice.
He’d had a choice.
She’d had none. Didn’t he understand that?
Jane’s eyes burned with tears and she blinked, suddenly blinded. Suddenly feeling more devastated and alone than she had done when she thought Zaren was dead.
She gripped the silken curtains that seemed to cover every wall in this bloody damned palace, using them to help keep her upright as unimaginable pain shot through her, crippling her. Blinding her.
The sharp sound of a hand slapping flesh had her jolting and spinning her attention back just in time to see the lush female body rising from the bed. The woman’s heart-shaped arse had a red mark on it from Zaren’s hand.
“Go,” Zaren said, pointing in an unmistakable command. At first, Jane’s heart stopped, for she thought he was speaking to her.
But then she realized he was ordering his bedmate from the room. Jane couldn’t help but watch the lovely figure as she strode away: long and lean, with lush curves and infinitely long ink-black hair that swayed in a thick waterfall as she sashayed to the door without a backward glance. Apparently, the smack on her arse had sounded worse than it was. She seemed much too confident and complacent for it to be otherwise.
Enraptured Page 5
