His queen’s gasps of pleasure as he tongued her sweetness, drinking the nectar of her arousal, brought his cock to agonizing hardness.
“More,” she pleaded and pushed his head deeper between her legs.
Mark reached for the emerald-encrusted dildo lying beside her and rubbed it against her. Juices made the gold inlay sparkle and brought out the luster in the green stones adorning the sides. A large emerald created the crown of the phallus. He eased the smooth head into her. Coated with her cream, he slid it a fraction deeper and she whimpered.
Cleopatra pinched and rolled her nipples between thumbs and fingers. When he filled her full of the bone and jeweled phallus she bucked and arched. She released her nipples and clawed at his arms until she screamed. Her head thrashed on the soft bedding. Hot fluids coated the dildo that he’d had made just for her. “Mark,” she pleaded in desperation. Her chest rose and fell. Sweat glistened on her skin.
“Come for me,” he whispered, and pulled the emerald back an inch, then twisted it in again. She strained against the stone. He brought the dildo out, then in and out until she writhed with each thrust. When she ground herself against the stone, he leaned forward, took a nipple in his mouth and sucked. She screamed in climax. He sucked harder and she arched against the emerald, her breath coming in hard gasps, then climaxed again, and collapsed back against the bedding.
The tool slipped from her body into his waiting hand. “Do you know how much I adore the taste of you?” He licked a trickle of her cream from the dildo.
She gave a soft chuckle. “It’s a good thing since it pleases me to have your face between my legs.”
“But not as much as you love to be fucked?”
“True.” She tossed her arms above her head. “But what if I said I’m perfectly satisfied already?”
“I’d say you have never been satisfied. You, my love, could fuck for days. Now get to your hands and knees.”
“Will you spank me if I’m disobedient?”
“Later. First I’m going to sate my appetite as much as yours.”
She rose onto hands and knees then glanced over her shoulder at him.
Mark held her gaze as he dipped his fingers into her, coaxing her honey to flow. “Ah, still so wet for me.” He easily plunged his cock into her slick channel. Hot walls enclosed him and he basked in sheer bliss. Fierce need drove him to possess every part of her. He pounded into her welcoming body with powerful strokes. Then, knowing Cleopatra’s needs, he pulled from her and replaced his cock with the dildo. Her internal walls gripped and held it inside.
He spread her cheeks and licked her tight little rosette. With the dildo stuffing her channel and his tongue playing in her ass, she couldn’t stop wiggling.
“Damn you, fuck me.”
Pushing his thumb into her anus, wet from his mouth, he stretched her open. She flinched from the momentary sting that comes from anal play then backed into his hand, wanting more.
“I’m ready,” she said breathless.
Taking his shaft in his hand, he fit the crown to her small, puckered hole. His muscles bunched as he controlled the glide of his cock into her sweet ass. Once the bulbous head pushed past the tight rim, her muscles relaxed. The speed of his thrust built slowly to keep the dildo in place.
Cleopatra arched. Mark gripped one hip to steady himself and reached between them with his free hand and grabbed the end of the dildo. As he plunged into her ass, he pushed the tool deeper.
Cleopatra cried out. Her body convulsed. Violent spasms rocked her as she careened into orgasm. Pressure tightened around his shaft. As he continued to pound into her body, he exploded. Jets of hot come spurt from his shaft. While buried in her ass, he could feel the hard contours of the bone and jeweled phallus still lodged in her passage.
“This is so unusual and unlike anything I’ve ever seen,” Selene said.
Anthony jarred from the memory. He ground his teeth at the pressure that had built behind the fly of his jeans. He shifted his stance to give room to his rigid erection. The change of position helped, but the woman before him blended with the memories of his eternal love.
Too many years had passed since he’d seen her. Three hundred and four to be precise. However, a thousand years could have passed and he’d still remember the feel of her writhing beneath him. A day was too long. And now his hunger for her had left a constant, piercing ache in his gut.
“It’s very unusual in shape.” Selene held the long artifact to the light and traced the inlaid gold with her fingertip. “It doesn’t fit with the other pieces. In my opinion, it’s not from the same collection. The unique scrolling—” She fumbled the piece as if suddenly singed, nearly dropping it on the black velvet.
Anthony straightened. Had she realized what she caressed?
“Oh, I…um,” she gave a nervous laugh. “I may need more time to determine the value of this piece.”
Anthony stepped from the shadows, and Selene sucked in her breath. He wrested the piece from her and ran his thumb over the emerald crown. “The inlay is flawless.” He grasped her finger and traced the golden scrolls along the sides. “Feel how smooth, but with enough definition to produce ribbing.” Her eyes widened. He breathed deeply, his stare never wavering from hers.
The pleasing essence of the mouth-watering wetness between her legs tightened his jaw. Her cheeks were flushed and fluttering beats of her heart were visible in the delicate skin of her neck. She was aroused by him. More proof that Selene was once his queen. Unlocking her memories would bring forth the woman he’d loved for five millennia. In all their lifetimes together this was the longest they’d been separated.
Selene pulled her hand free and grabbed another stone. “Let’s move on.” Her voice broke. She cast a sideways glance before clearing her throat and pointing to the next stone. “Look at the intricate carving of this particular emerald.” Picking up her pencil, she pointed to the fine details of the grooves etched into the stone with the point. “This is astonishing. You can see Cleopatra had her image carved into the stone. It is believed these were gifts to visiting dignitaries.”
She was right. But it was the unfamiliar piece he wanted to discuss. Studying the artifact aroused her. Sexual energy brought awareness of their lives together. Although their connection transcended time, it was the physical connection of their joined bodies that strengthened their eternal bond.
They had lived in the Nile river valley for a thousand years, then traveled across continents, and since the Crusades, they had called England home. She was always born where she died, only the physical body and attributes changed. Her heart, soul, all he loved about her remained the same.
Selene studied the stone. “Emeralds adorn many mummies from the Middle and New Kingdoms. But it is these from 51 to 30 B.C. that are the most prized. You have an extensive collection, Mr. Mager. In fact, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen such a vast amount and the quality is extraordinary. The few pieces known in existence are documented and in museums.” She raised an inquiring brow.
“Remember our contract. No one is to know of my collection.”
She stiffened, thrust out her pointed chin, and looked up at him with her petite nose proudly in the air. “I’ve been paid a commission. I have no plans to renege on our agreement.”
She wouldn’t have to. If he was right, by tomorrow she wouldn’t be able to leave him.
Selene willed her rampantly beating heart to still. How was she supposed to determine the value of some jeweled replica of a penis? She couldn’t concentrate when the space between her and this mysterious man was rife with sexual tension. She needed to be able to focus on details.
Since receiving the email and subsequent letter from Anthony Mager, her interest had piqued in unnatural proportions. Egyptian artifacts had always fascinated her and then there was her affinity with Cleopatra. The Emerald Mines in Upper Egypt were synonymous with the queen.
This wasn’t Egypt, but Britain. And she didn’t normally go to castles in the hills o
f North Wales. At least not alone. The temptation had proven too great. So here she was appraising an ancient emerald sex toy.
What she hadn’t expected was the attractive, virile man hovering in the corner. He was off par from the men who usually drew her attention. He wasn’t studious, with an air of superiority. Perhaps Mr. Mager had a bit of the arrogance, but he wore it as confidence. At any rate, Selene didn’t date the most dashing men. Good-looking men tended to make her nervous. Pompous she could deal with. Mysterious, formidable men who radiated sexual energy didn’t look twice at her, so she’d adapted her needs to what was available. In the exciting world of antique appraisals the men she knew were either too old to have fun or were homosexuals. That Anthony Mager gazed at her with hunger in his eyes baffled her.
Even in light, his features appeared cast in shadow. Dark brows arched over heavily hooded, piercing eyes. Thick black hair slicked back and hung to his broad shoulders. Full lips hinted at a smile. Fine lines creased the corners of his eyes. Although his nose was large, it suited his face. Whiskers covered his strong, square jaw, but he didn’t grow a beard, more that he’d neglected to shave. Men she usually dated—if you could call the few recent excursions dates—never wore facial hair.
“Please don’t let me keep you from your usual tasks.” She returned her attention to the jewelry. “This is quite boring for most people.” She needed him to leave. Her concentration was nil with his brooding stare inflaming her wanton libido. Wanton. She mentally snorted. About as wanton as the Queen of England.
“You’ll find I’m not like most people.”
She started. Bloody hell not. Now he stood directly behind her. She hadn’t noticed him move from the corner. Moist breath warmed her bare neck. Awareness chased up her spine. Feeling flushed, she waved her hand in front of her face. Simply his proximity heated her flesh. Dampness soaked her panties and if he came any closer she’d likely spontaneously melt.
A clock chimed the hour. “Dinner will be served shortly.”
Yes, a reprieve from this confounded intimate atmosphere. “I am famished. We missed tea.” She carefully placed the stone she held on the velvet then faced him. “I’d like to go to my room for a few minutes if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.”
He escorted her out of the office. “Don’t think me forgetful, but I won’t be able to find it.”
He chuckled and she stumbled. An arm shot out around her waist and steadied her. She jerked her gaze to meet his.
Something in his smile made her heart lurch. Achingly familiar, as if… No. She was sure they’d never met before today.
Gentle pressure of his fingers on her hip made her weak. The room began to spin.
Cleopatra gazed into the heavens. The swaying motion of the Felucca sailboat kept pace with the plunge of Mark Antony’s enormous cock into her heated passage. She wrapped her legs around his hips and met his rhythmic strokes with forward thrusts. Her heart beat in tandem with his. “I love you,” she whispered.
Stars winked in the canopy of black above. The gentle lap of water against the hull and the wet sounds of their joined bodies blended with the sounds of the jungle on either side of the Nile. Intermittently, the splash of a crocodile rippled the waters.
She held him with unabashed longing. Heart and soul eternally bound to her lover.
“Are you afraid?” Mark’s gentle voice intruded on the rustle of reeds and flowers of papyrus that grew densely along the banks.
“Never with you.” She clung to his shoulders as her body crested. His cock stretched her on each down stroke, sliding smoothly into her drenched heat and creating intense friction when he retracted. Her walls tightened around his thickness in an effort to keep him buried deep. Blood surged into her swollen folds. Burning pleasure rolled through her body. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply the intoxicating aroma of their blended arousal. She melted around him. “Yes,” she cried. Her words echoed over the water into the cocooning night. With this man she feared nothing…not even the water that could claim her eternal soul if she drowned. Mark protected her, loved her, and had for millennia.
Moist air dampened their slicked skin. Mark slid against her and her breasts pressed against his chest. Leveraging higher, he thrust deeper. The boat pitched and gently swayed. Their lips met and tongues sparred in an erotic dance of taste and retreat.
Mark growled as he neared the precipice of release. His cock surged, felt thicker, and pounded deeper. She took all of him. Locking her legs around his hips, she rocked her pelvis. Muscles in his back bunched beneath her fingers. She held tight while spasms jolted his hips. He roared into the solitude. Shudders racked his body. Finally, he rolled to the side, gasping for breath, and draped an arm over his eyes.
Cleopatra rolled over and nuzzled against his chest. Sex always left them breathless and spent. Without each other they weren’t complete, which is why with every rebirth she returned to him…why she stayed away from open water.
“Bassam has prepared fresh fish.”
She stared, trying to keep Mark in focus, but he began to fade.
The dream lover morphed into the master of this castle, the same, yet with subtle differences. Selene blinked a few times. Tamping down her arousal was difficult with her pulse throbbing between her legs. The lingering effect of the vision still strummed her fervid longings. Her heated desires had moistened her thighs.
Selene scrutinized Anthony. Could he tell she was aroused? If he did, he didn’t make issue of it. “Fish sounds heavenly. Who is Bassam?” The unusual name was familiar to her.
“He’s my brother.”
“Do you have a large family?”
“Four brothers. I’ve become closest to Bassam since he came to live with me…a few years ago.” Anthony escorted her through the castle. “Andreas, the youngest, lives in America but he visits. He’s the rebel in the family. And I don’t see much of the twins.”
“That sometimes happens in families. Lives become too busy. A person can forget what is most important.”
“I can assure you I haven’t.”
Selene stared into his face. No, this man would be possessive of those important to him. “I didn’t mean to imply anything disparaging toward you.”
He chuckled and the hard lines in his face softened. “You haven’t offended me.” They continued on to her guestroom.
Anthony paused at the door. “Do you think you can find the dining room?”
“I’ll follow my nose. I can smell dinner, and I’m ravenous.”
“Then you’re in for a treat. Bassam is a magician in the culinary arts. We have staff, but he occasionally prepares meals for special guests.”
“Then I’m honored.”
Anthony left her. The massive oak door to her room creaked open. Selene crossed the room to the large bed. Ornate tapestries hung on the whitewashed walls. The castle had been modernized but the history of the building was still discernable in the stone flooring and high ceilings. Large windows with wide sills revealed the thickness of the fortress. While she was here, she’d enjoy doing some research on the castle. Perhaps Mr. Mager would share what he knew. That was if she could be next to the man without thinking about banging him on a table in the great hall.
Selene opened her suitcase and chose a brightly colored gypsy skirt and black tank top. She’d brought the outfit and a couple of gold bangles for her wrist on the off chance she made it into the village for sightseeing or a meal. She chose a bendable bracelet and manipulated the metal, wrapping it around her upper arm.
Before heading to the kitchen to meet Anthony she glanced into the antique beveled mirror above the stout dresser. Maybe it was handling Cleopatra’s emeralds, the vision of Mark Antony, or because she was in a castle with a lord named Anthony, but she didn’t feel like herself. Instead, a seductive and alluring woman emerged.
She stepped into the hall. The door closed behind her. She’d paid careful attention when Anthony had walked her to the guestroom. If she was goi
ng to spend the weekend in the monstrous fortress she needed to get her bearings. Her soft-soled shoes were whisper-quiet on the stone flooring. Finally, she turned a corner and the great hall lay before her.
Anthony turned from the massive hearth he faced at the opposite end of the room. “Selene,” he breathed. She blushed under his stare. “You look stunning. Join me for a drink.” He strode to the dining table in the middle of the room.
Selene started forward, her gaze glued to his strong fingers as he reached for the decanter and poured deep red wine into a heavy goblet. She accepted the glass. Her fingers wrapped around the base and a wave of dizziness washed over her. The modern world vanished. But this wasn’t ancient Egypt either.
This was sixteenth century England. Her name was Cara.
She whirled around, her gaze taking in the crowded room, but she didn’t recognize anyone. Or maybe she did, but the memories were vague. Yet she knew she was home…but that was impossible.
Her heart spiked. This was the same castle…the same room where Anthony had just poured her wine, but he was gone. Only the room was the same.
Voices chattered around her amidst chaos and noise. The squeal of a pig pierced the air. Women gathered around the fire in the hearth. The postern door was thrown open and men entered the great hall. Leading them was Markus, her warrior. His sculpted chest was bare. His hair hung in thick locks to the middle of his back.
He crossed the room with purposeful strides. Her breath hitched as lust heated her blood.
“Miss me?” His hands twisted in her hair and savagely pulled her mouth to his. His clever tongue swept past her lips with bold strokes while his palm firmly kneaded her breast. He shifted his hips so that his erection ground into the moist juncture between her thighs. Fierce desire raged through her being. She didn’t care about the men and women around them. She needed his hands on her…in her. Passion flared and she crushed her body to his.
Passion Over Time Page 29
