Atlantean's Quest Volume 1

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Atlantean's Quest Volume 1 Page 18

by Jordan Summers


  Ares coughed. His gaze averted to the floor. “I have one more thing to do in preparation of the ceremony.”

  Rachel heaved in a breath and fanned her face. “What? We look pretty done to me.”

  Ares pulled out a flask and poured the contents into a bowl.

  Rachel’s eyes widened. “I’m not drinking that,” she said, pointing at the bowl. “Every time I drink something from you people, I end up with bizarre dreams and a hangover.”

  Ares grinned. “’Tis not for consumption.”

  “Then what’s it for?”

  “’Tis a special blend of oil.” His eyes never left his task. “Where would you like to have me apply it to your skin, on the bed, while seated, or while standing?”

  “You’re going to rub that on me?”

  Ares’s eyes flashed to hers, hot and dangerous—terrifyingly male.

  Rachel licked her lips. She owed him. Her nipples pebbled tighter at the thought of his calloused hands moving over her body. The thought shouldn’t turn her on, but it did, even though she had no feelings for the handsome warrior other than gratitude and a blossoming friendship. She coughed, trying to alleviate the sudden dryness in her throat. Her mind scrambled to the bed furs and back.

  Ares met her gaze. “Well…” He quirked an arrogant brow.

  “You choose the position of application,” she croaked.

  Rachel heard something like a growl come from his chest. Ares stuck his hands into the amber liquid. He rubbed the oil into his palms, while he walked around behind Rachel.

  He stopped a hairsbreadth away, his breath coming out in warm puffs against her bare shoulders, sending shivery sensation racing through her nerves. Rachel felt the heat emanating from his muscled body. Her skin prickled and gooseflesh rose as if she could feel his gaze taking in her nakedness. She gulped. Her heart belonged to Eros, but she wasn’t completely immune to the sexy man standing behind her. His presence demanded attention. There was nothing politically correct about it.

  Ares’s rough palms came down on her shoulders, the sound of flesh hitting flesh rang out in the silence of the hut. Rachel felt the jolt clear to her toes and flinched. He seemed to ignore her reaction and began to rub the citrus scented oil, massaging it in circles over her smooth skin.

  “Relax,” he whispered against her ear, his lips lingering on the tender flesh.

  Rachel’s breathing hitched.

  His hands massaged down the length of her arms and then back up. He worked his way to her collarbone and neck. The rings in Rachel’s nipples felt as if they were vibrating with each stroke. She closed her eyes and inhaled. She couldn’t believe that such strong hands could be so gentle.

  Lost in sensation, she didn’t feel his fingers drift lower. The pad of a rough thumb scraped across her nipple. Rachel’s eyes flew open. She tried to turn, but Ares’s arms pulled her close, her bottom snuggling against his straining erection.

  “Ares, I’m not...I can’t...Eros.” Rachel couldn’t even put a coherent sentence together.

  “Relax, my Queen. I’m only here to prepare you, not join with you,” he purred. “’Tis important that you are sated before the ceremony begins. ‘Tis part of the ritual, nothing more.”

  Ares reached up and cupped both her breasts with his large hands. It didn’t feel like “nothing more” to Rachel. He squeezed her nipples, circling them, while playing with the rings. Her folds grew wet and her clit twitched. Rachel bit her bottom lip to keep from moaning and all thought of resistance left her.

  * * * * *

  Ares spread the rest of the oil along her legs and over her buttocks, massaging her muscles. The urge to rut was great. The thoughts Rachel broadcast were in turmoil, her mind torn between enjoying his caresses and being ashamed by her body’s response. Her thoughts kept racing to her friend named Jac. A vision flashed in Ares’s mind of long legs, tight high breasts and short blonde hair. She had a strong yet feminine face with wide blue eyes and bright red lips. Her expression was one of fierce determination.

  His cock hardened painfully, as he followed Rachel’s wayward thoughts, bucking beneath his loincloth. She looked up to this woman for her courage and strength. Rachel considered this Jac daring and tough, trained to fight in a man’s world.

  He’d been confused when she’d asked herself mentally what Jac would do in this situation. Then it occurred to him she sought the woman’s guidance from past experiences. He bit back the urge to laugh, recalling Eros’s earlier warning.

  Ariel, the Seer had been even more cryptic. She told him he would find what he least expected yet most desired, following the King’s orders.

  Ares’s curiosity was piqued by this woman named Jac. He imagined what it would be like pleasuring her in the same manner as the Queen. From Rachel’s thoughts and memories, he knew she’d fight like hell. He decided he would like that—a lot. Excitement filled him, flowing to his loins as he pondered his new assignment. His job was to locate her friends, not engage with them. Ares considered the challenge of taming the warrior woman. Perhaps he’d alter the orders slightly. A carnal smile stole across his face as his hands found the Queen’s pleasure center.

  He held her close and spread her knees slightly apart with his own. Her breath came out in gasps as she ground her hairless mound against his hand. Ares circled the little nub hidden beneath her folds, stroking, teasing, coaxing, and then flicked the pearl-sized bundle with his nail, sending the new Queen over the edge. She shrieked as her orgasm rocked her.

  Ares stepped a short distance away and wrapped his hand firmly around his cock, visions of Jac swimming in his head. Shuddering, he found his release, spilling his seed into his loincloth. Stunned by his physical reaction to Rachel’s thoughts, Ares pulled himself together by sending an energy burst through his body. Not since he was very young had he lost all control. He had only one person to blame…Jac. He took a shuddering breath, then observed his handy work. She looked stunning--almost as stunning as her friend. No one would ever suspect that she’d been attacked last night. He would have to live with that shame for the rest of his life.

  “You look beautiful,” he said.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  The Queen was officially prepared for the ceremony.

  * * * * *

  Rachel stumbled toward the table and dropped into a chair, her legs too rubbery to hold her up. Her skin was flushed and slick with oil. She still couldn’t believe she’d allowed Ares to bring her to orgasm. But she did owe him and if this was part of his official duties, then far be it from her to complain.

  It amazed her how fast she’d gone from lecturing Jac and Brigit about the pitfalls of sexual gratification to willingly participating. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Never in all her years would she have been able to predict that she, Dr. Rachel Evans, would find herself participating naked in a pagan-like mating ritual. Jac would have a field day with this info. Rachel shook her head, glancing down at her oiled skin, and then giggled as she imagined Jac’s strangled expression.

  Ares stood next to the hut entrance. His face glowed with pride. His eyes held no sign of judgment. “I will wait outside to escort you once you are dressed, my Queen. Thank you for the honor you have bestowed upon my family’s house.” He bowed and went out the door.

  Rachel walked to the other chair and picked up the clothing. Once again, there was no top. The material was aquamarine like Eros’s eyes and felt like silk. She pulled it through her fingers, luxuriating in the feel.

  Rachel slipped the skirt on. The fabric draped low on her hips. She took a couple of deep calming breaths, then exited the hut. Ares stood on the other side of the door, his large frame blocking the branch path.

  “What do you think?” Rachel twirled, sending material swirling in the air. She heard a sharp intake of breath as she came to a stop. She smiled. “Thank you.”

  “My Queen, I only hope that my future mate is as lovely.” Ares inclined his head toward her, then stepped aside.

  “So you�
��re not mated?”

  He smiled. “No.”

  “When we first met, I thought you were, but then Eros explained the meaning of the gold hoops. I still wasn’t sure since you seem to operate under different rules than the rest of the tribe.”

  His lips quirked. “That is an interesting way of putting it,” he said, then held out his elbow and waited for her to place her hand on his arm. “I follow my King’s dictates, not my peoples’.” He led her down the path and into the basket, lowering it quickly.

  A crowd had gathered in the center of the compound. A long table had been set up on the side. Fruits, breads and fish were piled high, making it a sumptuous feast. Rachel searched the crowd, her eyes seeking Eros.

  He stood next to the Seer, his blond hair separated into three intricately woven braids. He wore an ocean blue sarong, almost identical to the one Rachel had on. Gold bands encircled his muscular biceps and wrists. His head was held high and his shoulders were thrown back, exposing his massive chest. His shallow breaths sent ripples through his washboard stomach, making the gold hoops in his nipples quiver.

  Rachel stopped. Never in her life had she gazed upon such fierce masculine beauty. Her body tingled as she considered the ramifications of this ceremony. She was binding herself to this god of a man, to these people that she really didn’t know well. The thought terrified and excited her. She’d be Mrs. Eros or Dr. Rachel Evans, Queen of Atlantis. Eros’s eyes met hers. They were swimming with love. Rachel swallowed the lump in her throat. She’d settle for being Eros’s woman.

  “Are you ready to accept your position as Queen?” Ares asked, a mark of hesitation in his voice.

  “It is all that you asked of me when you saved my life. I think it’s the least I can do,” she replied.

  Ares spun Rachel around until she faced him. “Eros deserves more than that.” His jade eyes speared her, demanding the truth. “Are you willing to give him all?”

  Rachel knew that when she answered Ares’s question, there would be no turning back. But in truth, she had no wish to go anywhere. Her place was here at Eros’s side no matter what happened in the future. “I love him, Ares, with all my heart. I accepted the fact the other day when Eros and I went to look at the crystals. Last night only reinforced how important he is to me, because I came so close to losing him.”

  “You would’ve never lost him. He would not have allowed it.” He grinned. “But ‘tis good you feel this way.” He patted her hand. “Now let us join you to your future mate.” Ares winked. “I fear he can wait no longer.”

  They proceeded forward. Eros practically vibrated with leashed intensity. It must have taken a lot for him to stay in place and wait. His orbs sought hers in assurance. Rachel smiled up at him, then turned to thank Ares. He nodded and stepped aside.

  Ariel walked forward and bowed to each of them. “Shall we begin?”

  Rachel and Eros both nodded their assent.

  Rachel expected the ceremony to resemble a regular pagan wedding, but that was not the case. The Seer placed her hand upon Rachel’s head. She felt intense heat and then heard a loud, deafening pop. Rachel clutched her ears, then looked at her hands, surprised to see no blood.

  Are you all right? The Seer asked.

  “What?” Rachel stared at her for a few seconds, disoriented.

  I asked if you were well, Ariel said, but her lips hadn’t moved.

  This wasn’t possible. Rachel blinked and shook her head to clear it. It was one thing to have Eros read her thoughts. It was quite another for her to hear them loud and clear inside her head. “How are you doing that?” she asked.

  Perfect. The Seer smiled, ignoring her question, then started the ceremony.

  The vows were delivered in Atlantean as was customary, but Rachel heard and understood every word. No one told her she’d be telepathic after the ceremony or that she’d understand this new language. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this gift, but figured since most of the Atlanteans spoke to each other in this manner, it was probably a good skill to have, even if it would take some getting used to. She snorted at her staunch practicality.

  The strange thing was it seemed to be more than simple telepathy. With each uttered word from the Seer, Rachel’s understanding of Atlantis expanded, solidified, defying all explanation. It was like she was being passed sense memory. As unbelievable as it seemed, Rachel now knew beyond a doubt that these people were in fact Atlanteans.

  The ceremony ended when Eros placed a set of matching armbands on Rachel. He dipped his head down, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss. The crowd erupted in cheers and well-wishes, as the couple turned as one. She was officially married, at least in the eyes of the Atlanteans. This was a day she’d never thought she would see. The weight of her decision hit her square in the chest and her eyes rounded as Rachel stood by Eros’s side taking in the sight of the people…her people.

  “All hail the new Queen!” Eros said.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Sixteen

  Eros led Rachel to the feast table. He couldn’t help himself when he ran his hand along her spine, reveling in the tiny shivers he provoked. He guided Rachel to a chair toward the center of the table, pulling it out as he waited for her to be seated. She was his—all his.

  She appeared to be overwhelmed by her new ability, but presented a brave face to the crowd. She didn’t yet know how to tune out the endless chatter. He grabbed her hand and raised her fingers to his lips.

  She shuddered, desire filling her dazed eyes.

  He took the seat next to hers and raised a cup to toast his new bride. Everyone joined in, their joy and good tidings emanated out, wrapping around the newly formed union.

  Why am I so warm? Rachel thought.

  ’Tis just the energy from our people. They are healing and changing your primitive system. You will now age as we do and it will aid in our fertility.

  You’re kidding, right?

  No, my Queen. By the time we leave the feast you will be ovulating and I will be potent. ’Tis the way Atlanteans guarantee procreation. His lips twitched as he fought to keep a smile from forming on his face.

  Eros didn’t think Rachel would find this particular item of knowledge amusing.

  You mean if we have sex tonight I’m going to get pregnant? Her face drained of color.

  If? He arched a brow in her direction. You do not wish to bear my spawn? Eros clenched his jaw and braced himself, waiting for her reply.

  I…I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it might incriminate me. She crossed her arms over her chest and refused to meet his eyes. Were you serious about the aging thing?

  Eros nodded, then burst out laughing, all tension leaving his body in a flood of emotion. He looked forward to the completion of the meal so that he could take his bride and experience what he could only before imagine. He practically growled at the thought.

  Her taut full breasts teased him. Her arms pushed them up, plumping them high until they all but spilled over. He caught glimpses of her rosy nipples peeking out. Eros longed to lap at them until they kernelled into tight balls. He brushed the underside of one with his knuckle. The skin puckered, begging for his touch.

  Rachel’s breathing hitched.

  He grew hard once again thinking about finally enjoying the pleasures of her body. Eros decided that he shouldn’t be the only one suffering, so he sent Rachel a very vivid picture of exactly what he planned to do to her once the celebration died down.

  Her eyes darted from side to side, before meeting his gaze head on. She squirmed in her seat. Her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink. How could you embarrass me in front of your people?

  Our people cannot hear what I am saying to you or showing you. I have used what you would call a private line, to contact you.

  “Oh,” she said aloud, her shoulders slumping in relief.

  Eros slid his hand along her leg until he reached the juncture of her woman’s center.

  “Don’t do that,” she chastised breathles
sly. Her eyes sparked, but with a different kind of fire.

  No one can see us. The table conceals my actions. He trailed his fingers over her thigh until he reached her clit. Rachel’s skin flushed and she looked about the table at the faces around them. No one seemed to notice. They were too busy celebrating. Eros began a slow, lazy massage through her skirt. The material only added to the friction as he followed Rachel’s thoughts.

  A slow grin spread across his face. If you cry out they will know what we’ve been doing.

  Rachel looked at Eros, then down at the table. She bit on her lower lip to keep from groaning aloud. Her sex throbbed and her nipples marbled. She couldn’t believe she’d allowed him to do this to her at their reception dinner.

  She was convinced the jungle had somehow transformed her into a different person, a wild exhibitionist that held no ounce of shame and lived only for hedonistic thrills. Eros continued his probing, all the while having conversations with the various men at the table.

  Rachel felt the pressure building. As if on cue, Eros intensified his movements, pressing on her clit, sending her over the edge. Light flashed behind her eyelids. Blood pounded in her ears. Before she could cry out he captured her mouth in a scorching kiss, drowning all sound. His hungry lips devoured her, demanding the same in return. Rachel gave him everything she had, her body pulsing in release.

  When she’d finally floated back to reality, she realized he hadn’t played fair. See what he thinks of this. Rachel bit her lip and conjured the most erotic picture she could of her naked, riding his mighty cock, her head thrown back, her hair tickling his thighs, nipples jutting as one hand reached back to caress his balls, while the other dug into the flesh at his abdomen. She sent the image to Eros.

 

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