“That was incredible,” she said in a sleepy voice.
Eros felt his cock begin to harden. Energy pulsed through him. Rachel’s eyes widened in surprise before she smiled, then her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip. Eros angled his head, kissing her gently at first, before turning up the heat. He bucked his hips, sending his shaft deeper into her core. He swallowed the gasp that escaped from her lips.
“You can’t be ready to go again,” she giggled, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
He raised a brow and stared into her sated face. “What do you think?”
She burst out laughing. “I think I’ve discovered a monster.”
Eros rolled, bringing Rachel with him, until she was seated on top, straddling him. “I want you to ride me like the women were doing around the campfire. I want to feel your body gripping mine, taking me.” He nudged his hips, enough to draw out a moan from her kiss swollen lips. “I want to watch your face when you come apart in my arms.”
* * * * *
Rachel slid her fingers over the expanse of his chest, reveling in the muscles beneath her palms. The warmth of his smooth skin, the flat pierced discs that made up his male nipples, and the rock hard cock buried in her body. Like a piece of Michelangelo’s marble come to life, this man was every woman’s fantasy, yet he was all hers. Only hers. She smiled again, this time wider.
She rose up an inch or two, then sank down, feeling his thick length slide back inside of her. The sensation was powerful, intimidating—addictive. She didn’t think she’d ever tire of it. Rachel leaned forward releasing even more of his erection from her velvet grip. She closed her eyes for a second, relishing the feel of the hard steel searing her flesh.
Rachel captured his gaze and rocked her hips, picking up speed. His eyes bore into her, watching her every move. Her nipples bounced, sending the gold rings flopping against her skin. His breathing deepened. Eros seemed mesmerized, unable to tear his gaze away from her. Rachel kept her smile to herself, exalting in the power she wielded over this mighty warrior king. Her body sucked him deeper while her clit scraped over the crisp curls at the base of his cock. She groaned, allowing the feeling to sweep over her and radiate out, then squeezed him again.
Eros sat up, capturing her nipple. His tongue swirled and flicked. Rachel rode him harder, her body undulating as she raced toward to release. It was Eros’s turn to moan. Her movements faltered. He gripped her waist, lifting her effortlessly up and down onto his hard shaft as his hips rose up to meet her. Rachel whimpered as her orgasm slammed her violently. Her body trembled and shook as her vaginal walls pulsed, locking onto Eros’s cock like a vise. It was enough to send him careening after her. His essence filled her with pulse after pulse. Rachel held him tight, keeping him buried deep, taking all he had to give, then collapsed forward onto his chest.
“I love you,” she rasped, her voice drowsy and sated. She drifted off to sleep.
* * * * *
Eros drew her to his side, tucking her beneath his shoulder. She was so small and delicate, yet fierce in her determination. “I love you, too, my Queen,” he said, placing one large hand protectively over her flat abdomen that would soon swell with new life. Rachel had saved his people. Saved him from a life of loneliness.
He sighed, his body and mind content for the moment. Their struggles were not over. His people still had a long journey ahead, one that would be fraught with many perils before they reached their final destination. Professor Rumsinger had escaped. It was only a matter of time before the cockroach returned, but they would be ready. Eros looked over at his new Queen and smiled to himself. Together they’d survive. Together they would activate the crystals and reach Zaron to begin their new lives.
# # #
ATLANTEAN’S QUEST BOOK TWO
EXODUS
by
Jordan Summers
Table of Contents: Exodus
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
Epilogue
Pistols…Check
Knife…Check
Bug spray…Check
Determined to find her missing friend, Rachel Evans, Jaclyn Ward was prepared for everything a sultry jungle could throw at her. Everything but an encounter with a dark-haired, jade-eyed Adonis named Ares. Nothing on the planet could have prepared her for him…her greatest sexual fear-a man she can call her equal. Join Jac as she pulls out her entire feminine arsenal in an attempt to avoid a heat-seeking missile known as Ares.
Hunter becomes hunted as two strong wills collide.
In a game of domination there can be only one winner.
* * * * *
Chapter One
After a hellish week away litigating, Jaclyn Ward entered her sleek Manhattan apartment and tossed her mail on the entryway table. The Toronto business trip had been sheer torture, but she’d argued effectively enough to save her company millions. Those Toronto boys never knew what hit them, she was the best when it came to fighting and winning. And she always got what she wanted in the end. Just the same, sometimes being a top corporate attorney was a bitch. Jac dropped her suitcase and walked to the phone. The light on the answering machine blinked like the warning light on a bomb set to explode.
Thirty un-played messages. I haven’t been gone that long.
She pressed the button as she retrieved the mail. She was flipping through the envelopes when Rachel’s voice came on the line.
“Hey, Jac,” was all Jac registered of her friend’s message. Jac smiled for the first time that day as she realized how much she missed Rachel. Hopefully her friend would let her know what date she’d be returning.
Then Rachel screamed and the line went dead.
The envelopes slipped from her fingers and Jac stood by the phone, frozen, unable to breathe. Her mind went blank as the room filled with the harsh sound of a dial tone. Did she just hear her best friend die?
The answering machine clicked on to the next message, as Jac sank to her knees the room swimming around her. She was dimly aware of Brigit’s frantic voice informing her that Professor Donald Rumsinger had returned from the jungle expedition—without Rachel. Jac’s jaw clenched and her stomach somersaulted as something deep inside her spoke:
I knew it. I knew that low-down son-of-a-bitch was up to something.
Muscles at the base of her skull took that moment to tighten into the mother of all headaches. Jac shook as the overwhelming panic subsided, slowly being replaced by a fury the likes of which a volcano couldn’t contain. She spent the next hour phoning the museum and then the local authorities down in the god-forsaken jungle, but to no avail. Apparently one missing museum employee wasn’t worth their time.
The Professor had convinced everyone that Rachel wanted to stay longer for further exploration and study. He’d used that fact that she wanted a promotion at the museum to sell the idea. After all, it had been her idea to go with him. He’d made no secret that he hadn’t wanted her to go along.
Was she dead? Had he killed her best friend? Or was Rachel lying somewhere in the jungle, waiting for help to arrive? There was only one way to know for sure.
Jac knew exactly what she had to do.
* * * * *
Two days, twelve inoculations, and fifteen hours on four different charter flights later, Jac’s plane circled the jungle runway. She had managed to get an expedition
arranged by phone, but god only knew what she would find when she stepped off this tin can masquerading as an aircraft.
She was hot, sweaty, and pissed off that the Professor had somehow managed to slip in and out of New York before she could get her hands on
him. Rumsinger had a three- day head start on her. If he hurt Rachel, she’d make whatever country they were in expedite his happy ass back to New York so fast that his head would spin. Then Jac would personally castrate the bastard.
Hell, she’d cut his balls off here, if she could find him.
The plane landed with a thud, jarring her to the present, then skidded to a halt. There was nothing to see out of the tiny window other than miles and miles of trees. The pilot popped through the door and made his way down the aisle. His eyes wandered over Jac’s nipples and then to her mouth, before meeting her gaze. He reached out at the last second to retrieve her bag.
“I’ve got it, thanks.” Jac’s gaze pinned him.
The man gave a curt nod and backed away.
Jac stood, grabbing her pack in one fluid motion, and then lugged it to the door. She jumped over the step that had been placed on the ground. The air was thick enough to slice with a blade. She patted her knife to make sure it was still strapped to her calf. Mosquitoes swarmed around her in a tiny cloud. Her Tomb Raider outfit supplied little protection against the carnivores, but the fact that she looked good wearing it made up for any impracticality. She reached in her pack and grabbed her can of bug spray.
“Take that, you greedy little vampiric bastards.” She pressed down on the top and sprayed the killer mist over her arms and legs. “You’re not getting my blood.”
After the fumes cleared, Jac shaded her eyes and looked around. The guides she’d hired were a few hundred yards away and the tents were already set up. She lifted the backpack into place and began the short hike across the clearing. All the green made her miss her houseplants back home. She sent a silent prayer to the heavens that Brigit remembered to water them. Considering Brigit’s absentmindedness, Jac didn’t hold out much hope she’d return to anything living. Couple that with Brigit leaving to attend MercuryCon, a huge sci-fi convention in New York, and her plants were as good as dead.
She’d walked several yards when the hair at her nape stood on end. Jac swung around, dropping her pack, the can held out in front of her like a weapon. “Just try something, whoever you are. Go ahead, make my day,” she growled in her best Dirty Harry voice, daring anyone or anything to come forward out of the jungle to face her. She felt antsy, anxious, as if the nerves in her body were firing all at once. It was a decidedly unpleasant sensation that Jac had no intention of indulging, which in turn made her even crankier. She was itching for a good fight. Anything to relieve some of the tension knotting her muscles.
A breeze swayed the tops of the trees. The green canopy tilted from side to side, like the waves on an ocean, the slight swooshing noise the only sound she heard besides a few raucous birds. Jac scanned the shadowed line, unable to shake the feeling that she wasn’t alone.
Nothing moved.
She stood there, one hand planted on her narrow hip, straining to hear that one snap or crunch that would give her enemy’s position away. “Bring it on,” she muttered. Jac waited another beat, then continued to base camp. It was time to proceed on her mission to find Rachel, kick Donald Rumsinger’s ass, and get them both back to New York before the weekend was up.
* * * * *
From the protection of the trees, Ares watched the tall blonde. Her hair was cropped close to her neck and those long legs were bare except for a scrap of material at the top, covering her. He’d seen plenty of women in long sheer skirts, but he’d never seen a woman in short pants. The material accentuated her lithe muscles, making her movements appear sleek and controlled. Her breasts were compact and firm, as was his preference. Her composure was cool and aloof, daring anyone or anything to step into her territory. A warrior woman through and through.
Ares lips twitched. He was willing to accept that dare and more.
Queen Rachel’s memories had been true in every respect. She’d be angry with him if she had known he’d eavesdropped on them so easily. Ares hadn’t been able to help it. The woman known as Jac had intrigued him from the beginning, and now she was here, not more than a hundred yards from him. Tempting, calling, provoking.
Ariel, the Seer had been right. His mate had arrived. It was time to hunt.
* * * * *
Jac reached the camp without further incident. She dropped her pack and stretched her arms over her head. Her muscles were sore from being cramped in little seats for hours. She’d managed to dismiss the weird foreboding, but couldn’t shake the sensation of eyes boring into her back and over her limbs. Her body was still hyper sensitive, which did nothing for her peace of mind. She needed release. Some people drank or turned to food to cope with stress. Jac preferred sex. She’d choose a good tumble over single malt or a salty chip any day. Orgasms didn’t cause hangovers or give a girl a fat ass.
A handsome twenty-something guide approached her. “My name is Xavier.” He stuck out his hand. “You must be Ms. Ward.”
She nodded, grasping his palm to shake it. “Call me Jac.”
Her gaze ran the distance from his well-developed calves, up his long legs, to his wide muscular chest. Xavier’s eyes were a soft cocoa and his skin the finest sienna. He had rich black hair shorn to a short made-for-the-weather crop. His lips were full and sensuous as they split into a dazzling white smile.
Jac’s clit twitched—she hadn’t gone native before. Might be fun. Her eyes flicked to the front of his shorts, taking in the slight bulge behind the seam. Jac gave him a telling smile. Maybe she wouldn’t have to rough it on her own in the backwoods after all.
Xavier raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as his eyes zeroed in on her tits. Jac knew her nipples were hard. She didn’t bother to hide her reaction. She was a very sexual creature by nature and was in no way ashamed about being so. He guided her to her tent, pointing out the trail that led to a nearby stream.
“You have plenty of time to explore if you like before the meal will be served. I recommend the stream, but be careful. There are anaconda and caiman in the area.”
“Care to join me?” Jac asked.
Xavier’s gaze traveled up and down her legs. “Perhaps if I get done charting our course before nightfall, I will,” he said.
“I’ll be waiting.” She saluted, then stepped into her tent. The space was small, but adequate. Lucky for her, she wasn’t expecting the Ritz. Jac began to unpack. Pulling out the items she’d need for tonight, she glanced over her shoulder in time to see Xavier staring at her ass.
Jac smiled, then purposely dropped a pair of thong underwear onto the tent floor. Like an exotic dancer, she slowly bent at the waist, picked up the scrap of material, then slid it up the length of her long, long legs. She heard what sounded like choking, but by the time she turned Xavier was gone. Jac laughed. There was no doubt he’d meet her by the water now.
Two semi-automatic pistols were holstered and sitting on her cot. She picked them up and strapped them on against her thighs. Now she really did look like a blonde Lara Croft. She rifled through her pack and pulled out a baseball cap, shoving it on her head. Jac threw the opening of the tent back and inhaled.
The jungle had an odor of the untamed, even the flowery scent on the air smelled wild and savage. Her eyes took in the workers, each assigned to a specific task. They busied themselves with few glances coming her way. She couldn’t see Xavier, but figured he hadn’t gone far.
Jac trotted around the back of her tent to the trail Xavier had pointed out earlier. Despite the hour, the sun shone bright and unyielding, until she started down the path. Vines and roots grew in a mass tangle on the jungle floor, snaking their way up the various trees, clinging like parasites in search of elusive sunlight. Jac pushed giant ferns out of her way, taking care not to damage the plants. She’d always had a green thumb and prided herself on her ability to appreciate all things wild.
The sound of rushing water caught her attention and she picked up her pace. Just the thought of getting in a few laps to unkink her muscles before dinner had her salivating. The tri-athlete in her came out and she sta
rted to run, jumping over low vegetation, ducking around branches. In a few moments time she arrived at the edge of the stream, barely winded. A waterfall flowed twenty yards away churning up frothy bubbles before smoothing into a steady current. The spray was surprisingly cool and way too inviting to pass up. If she spotted an anaconda and caiman, she’d use it for target practice.
Jac drew one of her guns out of its holster, slipped the clip to check the ammo, before slamming it back inside, and then removed the safety. She wasn’t about to be caught unprepared. She set the pistol down and started to undress. The air was palpable and hotter than Hades. How could anyone live down here?
Jac forced away a lump in her throat as she thought of poor Rachel. Somewhere in this god-forsaken place her friend was hurt, or even worse. She brushed her fingers through her hair, knocking her hat to the ground, and blew out a frustrated breath. Jac wouldn’t allow herself to even go down that road. Rachel had to be alive and she was going to find her.
The last of her clothes dropped to the jungle floor. She walked barefooted across a thick blanket of grass, before reaching the waters edge. Jac bent over, stretching her tired calves. It felt wonderful to be naked. A light spray from the falls coated her skin, making it glisten in the sunshine. She stood up to her full height of five foot eleven, her nipples puckering in the warm air.
Atlantean's Quest Volume 1 Page 20
