Atlantean's Quest Volume 1

by Jordan Summers

  * * * * *

  Eros fought the urge to rut with his woman here on the jungle floor. Her thoughts were driving him to madness. His cock ached from the long hours of thinking about her touching his body, torturing his mind, without being able to do anything about it. If he hadn’t snatched her undergarment, he wouldn’t have made it through the night without acting upon his base desires.

  Rachel’s breasts quivered under his gaze and her nipples beaded. In her thoughts, she recalled their intimate joining and he could smell her wetness without having to see or feel it.

  Eros looked up to the sky, begging the goddess for strength. Her guidance was the only way he was going to be able to make it to the village without ravishing the woman. The Seer must first perform the joining ceremony. It was the only way to ensure his fertility. Then and only then, could he claim Rachel.

  He glanced down at her flat stomach. Their child would soon ripen in her belly, completing the prophecy. That same child, while still in her womb, would possess enough energy to start the transport, leading his people to the new world beyond the stars. He could not fail now.

  Eros took a deep breath to calm his raging need. He glanced at Rachel, who despite the smudges of dirt on her face, looked enticing. She was scared, but that didn’t stop her from devouring him with her eyes. The woman was too tempting for her own good. He had to get to the village—fast.

  He swung her up and threw her over his shoulder, positioning her for the next run. Eros knew she’d be bruised from the trip, but she’d heal fast. His long fingers lingered over her rounded backside. She tensed, but her thoughts were clear. She wanted him to spank her again. Instead, Eros touched her lightly, avoiding the temptation. He heard her breath catch and smelled the delicious aroma of feminine musk. His mouth watered at the thought of tasting her again. It would have to wait. He forced himself to move.

  * * * * *

  Rachel’s sex was drenched by the time he slid his hand down to rest on her thighs.

  Damn him. He knew exactly what he was doing to her.

  Her insides jarred with each step he took, and she fought for air. Something hard bit into her thigh and she shifted, trying to gain a more comfortable position. The object in her pocket slid down further and Rachel recalled she’d put her cell phone there during the attack.

  She didn’t need her pack after all.

  Rachel would have smiled, but the gag had drained every ounce of moisture from her mouth, making it impossible to swallow without a sharp dry pain following. He had one arm slung around her, holding her in place. Silky hair brushed the side of her face, sending shivers of awareness through her hungry body. From her upside down position she took in his well-rounded backside as he made his way deeper into the thick growth. The animal hide loincloth barely covered his luscious cheeks. She coughed against the gag.

  The man had a fine ass.

  Muscles flexed and lengthened with his stride. His legs were unusually long and his feet were left uncovered. They were oversized, just like the prints she’d seen in the mud at base camp.

  He was there that night at the stream...watching.

  A mixture of fear and excitement coursed through her at the realization. He’d seen her naked. She’d made him groan.

  Oh, great, just what she needed, a horny Tarzan-like giant holding her captive.

  Despite lust at first sight, Rachel was getting tired of this caveman crap. Didn’t he know it went out a long time ago? The ground blurred. With her hands bound, there was nothing to hang onto. She prayed he didn’t drop her.

  She rested her face against his back, his skin warm against her cheek. He was deeply tanned, but a slightly different shade of brown than the native guides. The golden hue indicated that he’d been fair at one time.

  Interesting…

  Rachel searched her mind for a tribe that would have his characteristics, but none in this equatorial vicinity came to mind. Could he be part of the lost tribe they’d been searching for? Discomfort was quickly replaced with excitement. Was it possible that she’d found them before the Professor? She wouldn’t know for sure until he removed the gag and she got a chance to speak with him. If he was, then Rachel knew she had just made the discovery of a lifetime.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Seven

  The sun was setting when they reached a tiny clearing. The last of the gold beams waltzed with the outstretched shadows. The wild man had been running for hours. Any normal man would have dropped from exhaustion by now, but not her giant.

  He carefully pulled her off his shoulder and set her down, steadying her with his hands, waiting until her legs had enough strength to support her weight. He unsheathed his knife and cut the vines from her mouth and hands, replacing the blade when he’d finished.

  Rachel tried to spit the gag out but couldn’t. She grasped the hanky and tugged it from her parched mouth. Her whole body hurt, from head to toe. The giant reached out and clasped her right hand within his own larger callused ones and began to rub it vigorously, until the impressions from the vines faded and her fleshy pink color returned.

  Satisfied with the first, he repeated his ministrations with her left hand. The heat generated from his fingers astonished Rachel, and for a second she thought she actually saw them glow. But it must have been a trick of the fading light.

  She took a step away from him and looked up. She could see him better, now that his hair was slick with sweat and swept back from his face. No doubt about it, he was a golden-tressed god. His beauty stunned Rachel speechless. Not that she could have said anything at that moment with her throat drier than the Mojave.

  The giant put his hands together in front of his mouth. A strange whistle-like sound occurred, even though he didn’t appear to be blowing out air. Birds stopped chattering and the creatures lurking in the underbrush stilled.

  A few minutes of silence passed and then an answering call pierced the quiet. He made two more consecutive whistles that were answered in kind, then he reached down, picked her up and they were off.

  Rachel’s body felt bruised and battered. She wanted to just stay in one place for a while until the continuous bouncing motion stopped. They reached another section of thick jungle, and this time he slowed to a walk.

  Thank goodness. One more hour and she’d have thrown up on him.

  She was pretty sure she had a bruise on her hip from where the phone had been digging into her earlier. His hand rested on her legs, stroking her soothingly, as he strode into some kind of semi-cleared encampment. From her awkward position Rachel could see about thirty-to-forty people peeking out from behind trees, their gazes curious but not alarmed. They looked similar to the man carrying her, unusually tall, well built—all blond, blue-eyed and beautiful.

  Just her luck, she’d been kidnapped by Amazons.

  Her gaze fell upon a large man, as dark as the others were fair. And I thought I stood out. Jet-black hair hung past his waist, tamed only by a leather strap, which pulled it away from his fierce face. His jade colored eyes followed them, boring holes right through her with their cool countenance. He was beautiful also in a harsh, don’t want to meet him in a back alley, sort of way.

  Rachel shuddered.

  The man frightened her. She decided it was probably best if she avoided him.

  The dark-haired man looked up, his gaze moving from hers to the giant who carried her. His face relaxed, as an unspoken understanding passed between the two men. The jade-eyed man nodded, then silent as a predator he turned and strode out of her line of sight.

  Rachel tried to look around, get a better look at the tribe’s features, but it was difficult given her upside-down position. Her ears were buzzing from the blood rushing to her head. If he set her down too fast she was pretty sure she’d pass out.

  Her eyes continued to search the faces of the strange tribe. From appearances, they could definitely qualify as a lost tribe. There were no indigenous people in this area that had fair hair, their size, and their features. Rachel not
ed that there didn’t seem to be many women visible, which was strange, but not necessarily unusual. They probably considered her a threat.

  She wanted to laugh as she imagined her five foot few inch frame being any kind of threat against these giant people. The kids were probably taller than her at birth.

  Where were all the children? Were they with the women?

  The giant carried her to the far end of the compound, then stopped. He made a big production out of gently placing her in a hand woven bark basket as big as a VW Beetle. With his head held high, he spread his arms wide. He looked at the curious faces, making eye contact with all before he stepped in behind her.

  Rachel couldn’t miss his obvious display and the strange act had her insides twisting into knots. She wasn’t sure of the meaning behind his behavior, since he hadn’t spoken a word, but had no doubt it was significant. Too bad she wouldn’t be staying long enough to find out. All she wanted to do was confirm that this was in fact the lost tribe, then she’d get them to take her back to civilization where she belonged.

  * * * * *

  Eros’s eyes met Ares, the dark warrior hunter, as the basket started to rise. It had been a while since Eros had seen his friend. Ares had chosen to live apart from the tribe many moon risings ago. Eros smiled, genuinely happy to see him.

  Linking telepathically with Ares, Eros explained what had happened to his future mate. I want the red-devil dead. I will form a hunting party and we will set out at dawn for—

  Ares stopped Eros’s mental tirade by addressing him formally. My King, what if you’re unable to locate his trail? Let me take care of the red-haired man for you, if he is out there I will find him. You know you cannot kill him, without it destroying the sacredness of your upcoming ceremony.

  Eros’s brow furrowed. He had not considered that. But he didn’t like the idea of Ares hunting on his own. He worried about the dark one. He’d already distanced himself from everyone, a sign that he’d given up hope that the Atlantean people would ever return home. What would prevent him from taking unnecessary risks? Eros didn’t want to lose him, not when they were so close to fulfilling the prophecy.

  Ares continued undaunted. I am unmated, so therefore not needed here in the village. I will check in with you often, updating you with my progress. You must stay and ensure your mate carries your babe within her belly. We cannot afford to lose you at this very crucial time. The entire village is counting on you.

  I am counting on you.

  Ares’s eyes met his with firm resolve. Eros had little choice, but to grant him his request. Ares would do what he wanted no matter what his decree.

  Be well, my brother. Eros watched Ares fade into the jungle.

  * * * * *

  Blood rushed from Rachel’s head to her limbs, leaving her dizzy. She started to climb out, but stopped as she felt the basket lift off the ground. Rachel pushed her back as far against the side as possible to keep the basket from tipping. The basket rose higher and higher into the treetops. She gripped the woven material tightly as she glanced down at the tribe’s upturned faces. Rachel wasn’t exactly sure what she’d gotten herself into, but had the distinct impression she’d gone from the frying pan into the flames.

  She opened her mouth and tried to talk, but all that came out was a strangled cough. She needed water. Rachel had no idea where he was taking her, but prayed the basket was sturdier than it looked.

  The basket creaked and swayed under their weight. The vine holding it precariously in the air looked well worn. Rachel could see through cracks in the floor, the ground growing further and further away. Her heart began to pound and her palms started to sweat. How high was this thing going to go?

  The contraption continued to climb to the tops of the trees.

  Breathe, just remember to breathe.

  Rachel stared at the branches, trying to focus on the outstretched limbs. The thick growth swayed in the breeze, camouflaging several huts. She tried to ignore the frightening noises the conveyance made as she imagined her and the golden god plunging to their deaths.

  The basket stopped with a jerk. Her heart dropped to her knees. The giant stepped out and then reached down to help her. His strong arms enveloped her, bringing her nose within two inches of his wide Adonis-like chest. She watched a stray bead of sweat make its way down his neck, between the flat disk-like nipples, over his taut abdomen, before disappearing under his loincloth.

  Lucky droplet.

  Rachel inhaled. His musky male fragrance sent her senses into overdrive. She had an uncontrollable urge to taste him, to run her tongue along his chest and lap up his salty essence. If she weren’t so afraid of dying at present, she might have.

  He pulled her forward, snapping her out of her carnal thoughts.

  Rachel shook her head. She’d heard that sometimes when people were in stressful situations they found themselves developing feelings for the people that put them there. It must be Stockholm syndrome. Rachel took one shaky step onto a wooden platform, and then looked down.

  Big mistake.

  They were up about sixty feet off the ground and she’d always been afraid of heights. She lunged for the giant, wrapping her small body around his waist, clinging to him for all she was worth.

  He threw his head back and laughed. A loud billowy sound that made his non-existent belly shake against her straining arms. The deep baritone sent delicious shivers up her spine. Eros looked down into the face of his petite woman. She didn’t even try to hide her fear. Even if she had, her wide-eyed expression would’ve given her away. He’d watched her as they reached the tops of the trees. Her small body quaked, even after she had thrown herself into his arms.

  He longed to continue to hold her, to alleviate her fears, but the start of the ceremony had to be completed first. So Eros reluctantly pulled her tiny body away and led her to his hut. She had to enter willingly or the ceremony would be stopped before it could begin.

  Eros pushed aside the sable-colored hide that covered the entrance to his hut. He entered and lowered his head. He offered all that he had, all that he was, to this enticing woman from the outside world. He’d give her his life if she asked for it. Eros would do anything and everything in his power to make her happy, if only she’d accept his nonverbal invitation.

  Rachel stood outside the door. The giant stepped through the doorway, but hadn’t tried to force her to join him. He waited patiently inside the hut, his eyes downcast, his face unreadable. Her gut said this moment was important to him.

  She debated whether to enter. Different tribes had different customs. Sometimes actions as innocent as stepping over a threshold made you married in the eyes of a tribe. What if that was the case here? There was nothing about this tribe that even hinted at their cultural background. Rachel had looked for totems, symbols, anything that could indicate a belief system. There was nothing, which was…odd.

  Rachel looked over her shoulder at the drop behind her. The only way out of here was to get back into that basket. Even if she managed to make it there without falling out of the tree, she didn’t think she could operate the thing without the wild man’s help. Rachel looked at him again. He hadn’t moved, but his body was tense as if he knew what she’d been thinking. Despite her need to escape, now was not the time. She realized if there were any hope of getting away she’d have to cooperate. Or at least appear like she was going along with the tribe’s customs and edicts.

  What the hell, she thought, then stepped forward. It wasn’t like a marriage here was binding by New York law.

  Her dream man’s head shot up and he smiled, nodding in approval. His muscles visibly relaxed and he expelled the breath she hadn’t noticed he’d been holding.

  Suddenly she felt as if her fate had been sealed. Her gut clenched as panic crept into her body. There were no bars on the windows or solid doors, but she was as trapped as any prisoner could be.

  Rachel ran her hands through her tangled hair, catching each knot with her fingers. Frustrated that she no
longer had her pack, she slapped her palms onto her thighs. Her fingers clipped the phone in her pocket. She’d forgotten about her lifeline. Jac had made sure she could call from anywhere. Thank God for her friend’s paranoia.

  Careful not to draw his attention, Rachel slowly pulled her hands away from her pants. She glanced around the hut. The walls were thatched, as was the roof, intricately woven with patterns that added a subtle Celtic-like, but distinct design. A torch hung from the far wall illuminating the space. Two slotted windows had been perched open to catch the evening breeze. Hides of various shades were thrown on the wood floor, reaching close to eight inches high.

  This was where he slept. The thought burned in her mind.

  Rachel blushed and shot him a sideways glance, but he didn’t flinch. He just watched her closely as she assessed the hut, as if waiting to see her reaction.

  “It’s nice,” she croaked and nodded, looking around some more.

  There was a bucket carved out of a tree stump in the corner, containing some kind of liquid. The giant grunted again and pointed to it, motioning for her to drink. Rachel leaned over the bucket. She sniffed a couple times, but smelled nothing. She didn’t think he would try to poison her after carrying her all this way, but she wasn’t sure what tribe she was dealing with. And if they had been lost for all this time, there was no telling what their beliefs were.

  Her raw throat throbbed with thirst. It was everything she had not to dunk her head into the carved out stump. Instead, Rachel dipped a finger in and found the liquid surprisingly cool, like it had been refrigerated. That would be no small feat considering the outside temperature. He indicated again for her to take a drink.

  She cupped her hands together in the liquid and lifted the wetness to her mouth. Her parched throat made it painful to swallow. She choked the first couple of times. He made a move toward her, but stopped when she shied away. Rachel returned to the stump and took a drink. This time her throat worked. She gave the man a smile, wiping water droplets from her chin with the back of her hand.