Atlantean's Quest Volume 1

by Jordan Summers

  Atlantean’s Quest

  Volume One

  by

  Jordan Summers

  Atlantean’s Quest - Volume One

  Copyright 2012 Jordan Summers

  Atlantean’s Quest Book One: The Arrival

  Copyright 2003 by Jordan Summers

  Atlantean’s Quest Book Two: Exodus

  Copyright 2003 by Jordan Summers

  Atlantean Heat

  Copyright 2003 by Jordan Summers

  Artwork by Croco Designs

  Formatted by IRONHORSE Formatting

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  Series Table of Contents

  ATLANTEAN’S QUEST BOOK ONE

  ATLANTEAN’S QUEST BOOK TWO

  ATLANTEAN HEAT

  Other Titles by Jordan Summers

  About The Author

  ATLANTEAN’S QUEST BOOK ONE

  THE ARRIVAL

  by

  Jordan Summers

  Table of Contents: Arrival

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Dr. Rachel Evans, specialist in ancient languages and extinct cultures, would do anything to get the promotion she’s been passed over for twice before. That includes traipsing through an uncharted piece of jungle, known for being a land based Bermuda Triangle, with the man she hates more than any human being on the planet — her boss, Professor Donald Rumsinger.

  What she doesn’t anticipate is being sacrificed by Donald to ensure their native guides’ continued cooperation on the expedition, or being rescued by a Tarzan-like sex god named Eros, who claims she’s his prophesied mate.

  To make matters worse, Eros believes he is the King of the Atlanteans and that once the mating ceremony has taken place they’ll bear a child together who will lead his people off Earth and back to their home planet. Talk about delusions.

  Rachel wants adventures and the sex with Eros is to die for, but is it worth letting go of her old life and past hurts? Is she strong enough to take her rightful place at Eros’s side as Queen of the Atlanteans? Or will she return to a tiny New York apartment to revel in her job promotion, forgetting all about the sultry nights she spent in Eros’s strong arms? Only time will tell…and it’s not talking.

  * * * * *

  Prologue

  The jungle air was thick and repressive, palpable to the taste. Like a living entity it vibrated and pulsed with an energy all its own. Animal cries rang out as predator met prey in a violent exchange that played out night after night.

  A small pot set in a clearing boiled with pungent herbs and the flesh of the mighty anaconda. Steam hissed, thick fumes of smoke bellowed, wood burned, popping as each piece of kindling was snatched up by the ravenous flame.

  The woman, known as Ariel the seer, stood over the crackling fire stirring the contents of the pot. Visible through the sheer material of her earthen skirt, firm muscles in her lithe legs strained. Sweat beaded her delicate brow.

  With each swirling pass of the spoon, Ariel’s ample breasts bobbed. Rose-colored nipples marbled from exposure to the warm night air, begging to be caressed and suckled. Long blonde hair fell in loose waves around her trim waist and over her rounded hips. Her aqua gaze fell trancelike upon the brew in search of the elusive vision.

  Eros stood to the side of the seer, his massive arms crossed over his wide hairless chest, expanding his biceps to inhuman proportions. He’d braided his blond hair in the ceremonial custom of his people, divided into two plaits that fell to the small of his back. His breathing was even, despite the nervous energy coursing through his muscle-corded body, as he waited for the seer’s vision to form.

  Ariel gestured for Eros to come forward. Tonight the medicine must be stronger. I need your seed to add to the brew.

  The words came into his head on a whisper. Such was the way of Atlantean communication. Unquestioning, Eros untied his loincloth, allowing it to fall away from his trim waist and thick thighs.

  The night air taunted like a dream-lover’s caress, promising much, delivering little. A faint breeze spilled over his rod, rustling the crisp curls that grew at the base. He reached down to take himself in hand, but the seer stopped his movement with a light touch of her fingertips.

  I must be the one who brings your seed forth this night, for the ritual to be complete.

  Eros nodded and dropped his hands to his sides. The seer stepped forward and cupped his heavy sac in her soft palms, transferring his weight back and forth until balance was achieved. Her gentle touch brought forth the desired results. His staff hardened, lengthening to its full ten inches within seconds.

  At once, she slipped to her knees impaling her mouth with his throbbing cock. Her lips were hot, moist, made for giving pleasure. He sucked in a breath, but said nothing. Ariel began swirling her tongue around the head of his staff, like she’d done so many times before when he’d sought relief. Her hands gently massaged his balls, supping at him as if he were her first meal after a long starvation.

  Eros gave his body up to the pleasurable sensation and closed his eyes, imagining what it would feel like to thrust into his future mate. Like a siren of the sea, the warmth of the seer’s mouth urged, beckoned, and lured the seed from him. He felt his sac draw up as Ariel added pressure and switched to sucking, sliding her hand up and down his thick cock.

  As he started to ejaculate, Ariel pulled away, ensuring he spilled his essence into the strange mixture bubbling within the pot. Eros jerked as the last of his fluids were milked from his body.

  Ariel returned to the pot as if nothing had occurred and stirred a couple more times. Her eyes intense, focused, waiting.

  Excitement filled her mind, spilling over into Eros. She comes, my King. Her arrival heralds the new dawn of our people.

  Eros lowered his gaze in respect. Are you certain? He normally never questioned the seer, yet tonight he had no choice. Her vision must be true.

  For his sake. For the sake of his people.

  Ariel hesitated, clearing the smoke from around the gurgling pot with a wave of her slender hand. ‘Tis true. She will ar
rive within seven moonrises. ‘Tis more than enough time to bring her here and perform the mating ritual. Remember, you must not join with her until the ceremony has been completed.

  Aye, he answered silently.

  Wait. She stilled, her eyes widened a bit and her breath caught. You must use caution, for she does not travel alone.

  Eros stiffened, rage coursing through his body. Do you see her with a mate?

  The seer’s mouth held the trace of a smile. His heart pounded painfully against his ribcage. It should not matter to him whether the woman had chosen a mate, but the ice forming in his veins said it did.

  Nay. Ariel shook her head. But she is in danger from one who is very near.

  His stomach clenched. His hands fisted so tight he half expected to hear bones breaking. I will not allow any harm to come to her.

  Eros raised his head to the heavens. After all the waiting, his mate was finally coming. He had almost given up hope. But tonight Ariel had seen her. He could barely believe his good fortune.

  Soon, he too would lay eyes on his future mate. Until then, there was much to do.

  All is as it should be. Eros looked into the seer’s face and nodded. You have done your part, now ‘tis time for me to do mine. Be well, Ariel the seer. He dropped to his knees before her, kissing each bare nipple reverently as was custom, then rose and slipped into the darkness.

  Be well, my King.

  * * * * *

  Rachel was back in the jungle—naked. Monkeys chattered and parrots screeched as she lay on a soft bed of grass in the small clearing. The blades tickled her bottom and stroked her shoulders as a breeze gently rustled them. Water gurgled and splashed playfully in the background, calling out for those around to join in its merriment. She considered answering its call, but she couldn’t seem to sit up. The smell of exotic orchids wafted on the breeze, perfuming the air, bathing her skin with their luscious scent.

  Suddenly all sound stopped. Even the leaves refused to whisper.

  Rachel’s heart began to pound, a combination of excitement and fear. Her rosy nipples stabbed skyward.

  He was here.

  Silent footfalls heralded his approach. Shadows from the trees shifted like a mirage as he strode toward her. Flawlessly muscled, his body chiseled perfection.

  Rachel gasped and tried to get a glimpse of his face, but before she could do so, a strange shadowy light filtered over him obscuring his features.

  She knew she should scream, but the sight of this stranger’s body and his mammoth cock made her mouth water, her legs tremble, and her insides ache. It had been far too long since she’d had a man, and she wanted this one, more than she wanted her next breath. She raised her arms to reach for him, but he pulled back.

  Rachel cursed.

  The man kneeled between her thighs and pressed them apart, exposing her. The shadows around his face refused to budge. He lowered his head and lapped at her swollen folds. Every nerve ending came alive, as his seeking tongue sent shockwaves through her body. She was already wet. A thin sheen of perspiration broke out on her skin, her nipples puckered even tighter. Rachel moaned, low and deep—animal-like.

  Fuck me, please, she begged in her mind as she attempted to shift her hips.

  He did not answer.

  She heard his labored breath as he rose and positioned the head of his great cock at her entrance. He smelled of earth, spice and sex incarnate. A heady human aphrodisiac of male testosterone and primal urges. Rachel bucked her hips, nudging, encouraging, and pleading for his thick length. Didn’t he realize how much she needed him?

  He groaned. His large frame shook as if grasping for control.

  She felt the pressure as he started to push the tip of his thick erection inside, stretching her body beyond its limits. The moisture from her channel eased his way. Rachel whimpered, trying to find the words to ask for what she needed, but before a single syllable was uttered he vanished.

  “Noooo!” The scream died on Rachel’s lips as she jackknifed up in her bed. She blinked a couple of times and her apartment came into focus. Her body was drenched and her breathing ragged. The sheets were twisted around her ankles, effectively binding her to the bed. She looked around her studio apartment. The man was gone and her clit ached.

  She’d been having the same erotic dream every night for the past month. Shadowy, elusive—downright frustrating, like the man in it. Rachel snorted and shook her head. She thought about him as if he were real.

  She kicked the covers away and threw her legs over the side of the bed. Rachel padded into the bathroom, her bare feet echoing off the hardwood floors. There was no way she could go back to sleep without a good orgasm.

  The buzz of her vibrator and her own soft moans rang out in the night’s silence as she brought herself to climax while she imagined being fucked by the jungle god.

  * * * * *

  Chapter One

  The restaurant in the Metropolitan Museum hummed with conversation. The day was brilliant. Light filtered in from the skylights, dappling the patron’s faces as they devoured the delicacies before them.

  Rachel Evans, Jaclyn Ward, and Brigit Taylor sat huddled in a corner, their chairs turned away from the throng, successfully closing out the masses.

  “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Jaclyn asked, her voice deceptively cool.

  “Absolutely.” Rachel took another bite of salad, chewing the crisp greens. “This is the opportunity of a lifetime.”

  Jaclyn picked up a pickle from her plate. Making a face close to revulsion, she placed the spear on Rachel’s plate. Rachel laughed and lifted it up in front of her, like a conductor holding a baton. She stared at the pickle for a second. The veggie was firm and stiff, dripping with juices.

  Visions of her dream man’s massive cock flooded her mind. She bit down on her tongue to keep from moaning aloud. Her nipples tightened beneath her cotton shirt, making each scrape of the material exquisite torture. She took a bite of the pickle, sending its tart juices squirting into her mouth. Closing her eyes for a second in ecstasy, she murmured, “Mmm—I love dill pickles.”

  “Pickles. Riiight…” Jaclyn laughed, throwing her blonde head back. “You could have fooled me. That face you’re making looks more like a woman having an orgasm than eating lunch.”

  Jaclyn pursed her lips in thought and toyed with the potato salad on her plate. “I think you need a good stiff dick inside you—the larger the better—instead of traipsing into the jungle. Say the word and I’ll open my little black book and make a call.”

  Rachel’s eyes widened as Jac pulled out her smart phone and started scanning. Jac methodically went down her address list, throwing out names. “Brett—now there’s a cock a woman can sink onto—mmm…mmm…eight inches of pure male pleasure.” She growled in remembrance, before glancing at the pickle in Rachel’s hand and making a sour face. “I can’t believe you can eat that.”

  Rachel grinned and sucked on the dill spear. “I am in ecstasy over my pickle. Just the pickle.” She looked around to make sure no one listened, before leaning in to add, “And contrary to what you believe, a big penis does not solve all life’s problems.”

  Jac gazed at Rachel as if she’d just blown tea out of her nose.

  Rachel shifted under the scrutiny. “Jac, you’ve watched True Blood and Sex in the City one too many times. Besides, I’m not sure Brett would appreciate the assessment, pimp woman.”

  An image of her dream man flashed through Rachel’s mind. She saw him above her, on the verge of thrusting inside her aching channel. His perfect ten-inch phallus poised, dripping with dew. Rachel felt herself grow wet.

  Brigit laughed and snapped her fingers in front of Rachel’s face. “You still with us?”

  Right on cue, the telltale warmth of embarrassment spread across her face, until it felt as if her ears would burn off. Rachel sputtered. “I—of course.”

  Jac leveled her gaze on Rachel, challenge echoing in her voice. “When was the last time you had a go
od lay? Six months? A year? Never—if you’re thinking about Stan, that lame excuse of a fiancé you dumped a while back.”

  Rachel flushed anew and shot Jac a pointed look, taking in her friend’s fierce expression. How long had it been since she’d had sex? A year? Two? Yikes, the last time was with Stan and that was ages ago.

  Last night, the little voice in her head whispered.

  Rachel rolled her eyes. She was losing her mind if she was actually considering dream sex real. The fact that it was better than anything she’d ever had spoke volumes about her love life.

  She missed sex.

  Maybe the time had come to consider ending her self-imposed abstinence. And she would, just as soon as she got back from the expedition.

  “You better enjoy that pickle now, because you’re not going to be able to get those, or good cock in that god forsaken jungle.” Jac’s gaze narrowed into icy slits and her voice lowered to her corporate attorney “this is serious” tone.

  Rachel released a heavy breath. Jac had been trying furiously to dissuade her from going on this expedition, since she’d mentioned it to her on the phone earlier this morning.

  Brigit took that moment to shove a horoscope in front of Rachel’s face. Brigit’s mop of red hair hung in arranged disarray. The afternoon sun caught the color, turning it into living flame. Freckles dotted her rosy cheeks and wire-rimmed glasses slipped down her slender nose, giving her a disgruntled funky schoolmarm vibe.

  “Jac’s right.” Brigit poked the paper for emphasis. “The signs are bad. It’s all here in black and white. If you go to that jungle you’ll be in grave danger.”

  Rachel shook her head at Brigit’s fanaticism for astrology.

  Her friend was dressed in a day-glow green skirt, with a matching striped shirt. The color set off her cat-like eyes, making Brigit shine in the ensemble. Anyone else wearing that outfit would have looked like a deformed caterpillar.