“Out,” he bellowed to his men. Those around them were accustomed to their ardent desires. A few men hollered good cheers, as they left the master of the castle alone with his woman. Markus pushed her against the thick wood table. She scooted onto the top and spread her legs. He hiked up her skirts and slid his hand between her thighs. His fingertips trailed along her sensitive flesh. She tried to wriggle into a better position.
“Ah, my sweet is ready for me. Would you like me to fuck you here on the table?” His blunt finger slid between her soaked folds, but she wanted more.
“Yes.” She dug her fingernails into his thick forearm and urged him deeper. With a chuckle, he plunged a second finger, then a third. Cara cried out as he finger fucked her hard. Twisting, turning, and pushing deep until cream trickled from her honeyed core. Flashes of euphoria caused a quickening deep in her channel. Liquid heat flowed through her veins. Her body convulsed around Markus and she thought of nothing but him.
Having had enough foreplay, he tossed up her skirts.
Markus loosened the ties of his pants and stepped onto the bench so his groin was level with her. Swollen and dripping with precome, his cock thrust toward her face. “Take me into your mouth.” He put a hand on the back of her head and guided her mouth to his bobbing penis.
Cara opened wide and licked the pearly moisture from the head. She circled her tongue around the silken crown before sucking him into her mouth. Up and down, slurping him deep, flicking her tongue against the slit while she glanced up into his face and smiled. Her tongue traced the bulging vein along the underside of his rigid shaft. Then she kissed the heavy sac hanging beneath. Pulling the smooth ball into her mouth she rolled it between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. All the while her hand pumped his shaft, working the heated flesh in a gentle vise made by her fingers.
“Ah, my sweet wench is hungry for me.”
She pulled back, but continued to stroke him with her small fist. “Aye.” Then she swallowed his cock again and wrapped her hands around his thick thighs and inched her fingers over his firm arse. After kneading the muscles, she moved her hand back to his shaft. Her fingers wrapped tight at the base of his length, worked his taut flesh as he pumped his hips, thrusting his cock into her mouth in a frenzied gyration. His hands held the sides of her head.
Markus roared and pulled from her mouth. Climbing onto the table, he positioned Cara on her back. Grabbing her ankles, he brought them to his shoulders. With his knees braced against the table, he guided his cock into her sweet heat.
Cara moaned shamelessly. She didn’t care who heard. This was her warrior and she’d spread her thighs for him anywhere. Markus ripped her bodice open, baring her breasts. He played with the firm globes, pinching the nipples, while he pistoned into her drenched core.
“This is how a man shows a woman she’s loved.” Markus continued to slam into her heated depths.
Pleasure sizzled. Her body spiraled out of control. “Yes, yes, yes!” She cried out as her walls milked his cock. Her heart thundered. Panting for breath and throbbing from release, she clutched her lover. Markus threw back his head and hollered into the great hall. His body jerked and he filled her full of his hot cream.
Selena blinked her surroundings into focus. The great hall was quiet.
“Where am I?”
Anthony’s lips tilted into a smile.
“Oh my, I’m sorry,” she said breathless. “I’m not sure what’s come over me.” Selene wiped beads of perspiration from her brow with the back of her hand. The man was going to think her insane. Granted she’d missed tea, but lack of sustenance could hardly be blamed for her lapse in time.
The last thing she recalled was taking a goblet of wine from her host. Next thing she knew she was getting banged on the table in a dining room without a care for propriety. She glanced down to see she still gripped the goblet.
Her knees weakened and she sat on the chair beside her. Anthony caught the goblet as her fingers loosened and he set it on the table. He took the seat to her right. Selene nodded her thanks.
The door opposite where she sat opened and a large, bald man entered the room.
“Selene, my brother, Bassam.”
Selene inclined her head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She prayed he wouldn’t attempt to take one of the hands she kept clasped in her lap. If either man noticed her shaking fingers she’d never be able to explain the mental breakdown she was having in their castle.
She was alone with two virile men. Neither wore a wedding band. If they had women in their lives, they hadn’t been invited to dinner. Her cheeks flushed hot. A few minutes ago she’d imagined sex approximately where she now sat. The man next to her had savagely claimed her, and she’d reveled in the unbridled ecstasy.
As if Anthony read her mind, his smile turned hungry. He had to have carnal instincts. Heat surged into her pussy, engorging the plump lips. She shifted in her seat but it only served to rub her panties against her clit. Tamping down her rousing urges, she focused on the brother.
Muscles bulged beneath Bassam’s casual tunic. He crossed to the sideboard and poured a drink. He seated himself opposite Anthony. Sipping his cocktail, his eyes never wavered from her face. The intensity of his stare made her nervous. Not that it was heated the way Anthony’s brief glances set her skin ablaze. But his eyes lingered longer than was polite. He smiled, yet there was no mistaking the irritated underlying quality in his expression. She wondered why, but encouraging more interaction meant enduring more of his presence. Spending hours with Anthony was difficult enough…for a completely different reason. Her awareness of Anthony scared her because of the voracity of the sexual attraction she had for him.
Two servants appeared from the kitchen carrying silver platters filled with poached salmon, potatoes, carrots, lamb, and roast pork. Bassam smiled as they set the trays on the table then began serving.
“So what do you think of Cleopatra’s emeralds?” Bassam asked.
Selene nodded to the servant who offered her salmon. “Wondrous.” She released a breath of relief. Emeralds and her work were easy topics of conversation. “Several truly unique pieces will require some additional research.” She felt the blush staining her cheeks. Maybe the appraisal wasn’t a safe topic. She certainly didn’t want Anthony to offer further explanation of one particularly unique object. “I’m not at all certain I can ascertain their value without proper documentation of origin.”
“Anthony can answer all your questions. He’s an expert in the artifacts. Most of the pieces are one-of-a-kind.” He glanced at his brother. “I’m sure you could enlighten her on the intricacies of some of the most obscure examples.”
Anthony cast a sharp glance to his brother. “After a day in the library, I think she’d rather hear about this meal you’ve prepared. You’ve outdone yourself.”
The servants filled their plates with food then withdrew. Selene tried the fish. “Bassam, the salmon is divine.” She reached for her wine, remembering too late the erotic encounter with her host she’d experienced only moments ago. She sipped her wine, gripping the stem tightly to keep herself from spinning into another imagined delicious encounter. Then she set the goblet on the table. “Anthony, I would appreciate anything you can tell me about the jewels.” She furrowed her brows. “But I’m curious why you commissioned me to document and appraise the pieces if you’re already aware of their value.”
She caught a flicker of hesitation before he answered smoothly. “We need appraisals for insurance purposes.”
She nodded, her thoughts turning to the treasures throughout the castle. The jewels although priceless, only comprised a small amount of their fortune.
“Then have you lived in the castle all your life?”
Anthony glanced up at the high ceilings and the thick stone walls. His expression softened. He turned his attention back to Selene and she felt physical warmth from his visual caress. “Our family has been in England since the Crusades. But no, I haven’t always lived h
ere. Perhaps later I can tell you about…my adventures. I think you’ll find them fascinating.”
Anthony didn’t look English and certainly didn’t sound English. Truthfully, she couldn’t quite decide where he hailed from. His dialect seemed to be a blend of cultures.
“It must be comforting to know your history.” She flaked the fish with her fork. “I’m an only child. I have researched my family’s genealogy. I suppose that is what fascinates me about Cleopatra’s emeralds.” She met his stare. “Would you be surprised to know that I can trace my family back to the region of Upper Egypt? Because of limited record keeping, I couldn’t claim to be a direct descendant, but my imaginative side has fancied the idea.”
She could almost hear his thoughts. If he didn’t think her a loon before, he surely would now. What made her rattle on so? If she wanted to continue to appraise and catalogue his collection she had best keep quiet.
“If you’re interested, after dinner I’ll give you the grand tour. All you’ve seen of the castle is this room, the library, and the guestroom.”
“That would be wonderful.” Excitement laced her voice…and her heart raced. Dare she spend more time alone with this alluring man? “Are the two of you alone here or are either of you married?” She bit her tongue the instant the words were out of her mouth, but both men chuckled.
Anthony glanced at his brother. “No woman would have Bassam.”
“Yes, and Anthony has been married too many times to count.”
“Oh.” That should give her comfort, only it didn’t.
“Bassam only jests. But I have been married…to one woman.” Brothers’ eyes met. “She died.”
“I’m so sorry. My father died when I was very young.” She glanced out the window. “We lived a few miles from here. After his death, my mother moved us to Norwich.” She shrugged off the morose memory. Moving away had devastated her as a child. When she was older and could’ve returned, an irrational fear kept her away.
Selene had a fear of open water. So she lived in the city and avoided the coast. Had it not been for the emeralds she wouldn’t have returned. “My mother passed a few years ago.” She smiled. “This is quite the glum conversation for such a delightful dinner. And I believe I would like a tour.”
Chapter Two
A short time into the tour, Selene noted an interesting and curious fact about her host. Anthony knew too much about the artifacts to need her assistance in determining their value. The castle was a shrine of antiquity. She wondered why she’d been commissioned to appraise the emeralds when clearly his knowledge of their value and origin far surpassed hers.
But that wasn’t her only concern. She was alarmed with the anxiety heating her blood and causing her heart to race. Selene calmly inhaled, but the exhale only made her shiver. Anthony’s statuesque presence beside her was unnerving. Something familiar in the way he moved tugged on a memory.
“Have we met before?” She had to know if he also had this feeling of déjà vu. “I keep thinking we must have.” She scrutinized his face.
He grinned. “I’m not certain, but I believe you might be right.”
She sighed in relief. “I can’t imagine where, perhaps at an auction or an estate sale.”
He arched a dark brow. “Or perhaps in our dreams.”
She managed a nervous chuckle. Marvelous, now he was reading her thoughts. Well, she hoped he hadn’t read past chapter one because it certainly hadn’t taken long for her to imagine him naked.
“I’m sure we’ll figure it out. Come, I want to show you the grounds.”
They turned a corner in the hallway and two large, solid doors straight ahead opened to the moonlit night and the property leading out to the sea. Selene hurried forward through the doors. Moonlight cast a glow over the cresting waves crashing into the rocky shoreline. She paused. Fear snaked up her spine and clawed her scalp. Her heart pounded painfully. Knees weakened. Tears burned the back of her eyes and she didn’t know why.
Anthony stepped beside her and she instinctively moved closer. The heat from his body warmed her arm. Still the fear swelled in her throat making each breath a challenge.
Selene felt Anthony’s arms around her, but she couldn’t speak. Darkness closed in.
The Year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and three…
Rocks and sand bit into Cara’s back. The air chilled her quivering flesh. Seawater covered her feet, washed over her body and stung her lip. Her soaked dress clung to her skin. Licking her lip, she touched her tongue to a wound and flinched. Somehow she’d split the skin. Blood oozed into her mouth. Her limbs were heavy and she couldn’t move. A shadow neared her. A large man. “Markus.” Her voice was barley a whisper over the crashing waves of the churning waters. Thank God, he’d come for her.
“No, he isn’t here to save you.”
Panic welled in her chest. She knew the voice, had loved the man like a brother. With perfect lucidity she recognized the grave error. Tears seeped from her eyes. There would be no rebirth after drowning.
She moaned as she was lifted and carried onto a boat. “Why?” she croaked. Her lips were swollen and she struggled to form words. “We’re family. I love you.”
He paused. “It isn’t me you love.” The boat pitched and swayed in the angry sea. Keeping her eyes open grew more difficult. With startling clarity she knew his intentions. If he tossed her overboard, she’d drown. Death in the sea would mean she couldn’t return to live another lifetime. ”Markus.”
Suddenly she was thrown from the boat. She crashed into the frigid water. Her body broke and bruised as it was tossed about in the swirling black. She couldn’t fight the sharp stabbing pains of the icy water. Gulps of salty sea choked her as she was pulled beneath the roiling waves. In a final act of desperation she screamed for help.
“Selene! Selene!”
Her eyes startled open. Anthony held her shoulders in a steel grip. He gave her another shake. “What is it?” His mouth formed a thin line and his brows furrowed over his concerned eyes.
Selene staggered under the naked emotion reflected in his blazing irises. Tears threatened. Something was wrong. Unnatural emotions bubbled forth. She needed to cling to him and at the same time she desperately needed to get away. A moment ago she’d mourned this man, felt the acute pain of her own death in the deepest reaches of her soul.
“Perhaps—“ she gulped air. “I’m just a bit fatigued. I think it’d be best if I retired for the evening.” Her voice quavered. A part of her longed to wrap her arms around Anthony and be assured that he was real, that he was mortal. Ridiculous. She was wrong, but about what? The fact that he strummed something in her heart, that she felt possessive over him, or that he was mortal?
“Are you sure?”
She startled, certain in that instant he’d read her mind. Then she nodded, realizing he referred to her desire to retire. Anthony escorted her into the castle. His hand resting on her lower back provided a small amount of comfort. But she still felt the needles of cold water numbing her skin…and the horrible knowledge that she was going to die—again.
* * * * *
“Is it her?” Bassam paced. “Does she have the mark?”
Anthony couldn’t know until he had her naked. When he placed intimate kisses over her delectable body, he’d find the beauty mark, a small, dark circular mole over her pubic bone. Ten generations had passed since he’d last seen her, last slipped his pulsing cock into her slick drenched heat. In every lifetime she had a new name, a new appearance, but the same heart, same soul—his lips twitched—same mole.
“How can you be sure? Shouldn’t she have remembered by now?” Bassam demanded.
Anthony growled and stalked across the room. “I don’t know!” Yet, he did. He had no doubt at least some of her memories had returned. “I think she recalled a memory while we overlooked the water. She trembled in my arms.” He paused and remembered the terror in her voice when she called for him.
“Do you think she recalls how sh
e died?” Bassam’s tone wavered.
Anthony shook his head. “In the past all her memories returned in an instant. But this time…I just don’t know. I’ve relived the night of her death for over three hundred years.” He faced his brother. “What would make her go into the water?”
“You know what I think.”
“You’re wrong, Bassam. She would never take her life.”
“She has before.”
“No! And if you are right, it was because Cleopatra was lied to. She thought I was dead.”
Bassam shook his head. “She knows only an immortal can kill another immortal. Who could’ve convinced her that an immortal took your life?”
Anthony rolled his shoulders. “We’ve spent a thousand years together in a single lifetime.” Although mortal, Selene lived his eternal existence. While they were together she didn’t age. Therefore he had to stay away from her until she reached maturity. After she recalled their past lives, protecting her was his responsibility. Death could still claim her…and had numerous times throughout the millennia. She’d died in the black plague of the fourteenth century, and had succumbed to the poisonous bite of an asp.
“Even if she isn’t the one, you’ll likely still have a pleasant night.” A mischievous grin stretched Bassam’s lips. “She blushes every time she looks at you.” He wagged his brows.
“Not tonight. She’s already gone to bed.”
“Actually she’s working alone in the library,” Bassam said. “I saw her before I came looking for you. Do you think it’s safe? Perhaps I should watch her, make sure her discoveries are limited to the emerald pieces.”
“Leave her to snoop.” In this lifetime, Selena had an analytical mind. She’d need the proof.
Bassam nodded and left the room.
Passion Over Time Page 30
