“We are not quite finished yet.” Ares grabbed her around the waist. Heat poured from his hands, radiating throughout her body. A few moments passed and then he released her.
Jac stilled. “You’ve already covered my waist in designs—did the heat thingy, what more needs to be done?”
He snorted and opened another pouch, containing a red liquid.
“You’ve got to be kidding. Tell me you’re not going to fill all those symbols in with color?”
“I am not,” he said calmly.
“Then what are you going to do with that?” Jac pointed to the red liquid.
Ares smiled and lifted what looked like a paintbrush and began dipping it into the dye.
“Ares, I asked you a question—” His eyes flashed with pure devilry. “And I’m about to give you your answer.”
* * * * *
Chapter Eleven
Ares raised the brush that was dripping with red liquid, to her nipple. The scrape of the bristles caused her areola to pucker. She held her breath as he circled the turgid peak until it had been thoroughly saturated in dye. Jac glanced down—her tit looked engorged. He proceeded to paint the other, lingering on the tip long enough to evoke her passion. She felt her body tense, preparing itself for him and him alone.
Jac tried to catch her breath. “Is all this necessary, when I’m going to be clothed?”
The carnal look Ares gave her told her without words there was no doubt he was up to something.
But she was too distracted to figure out what. Jac let him finish, before asking again. “You’ve ripped up my clothes, so what am I supposed to wear in the meantime?”
Ares dipped a brush in a clear fluid, rinsing the dye away. His hand moved up and down, then side to side. He didn’t turn or even give a glimmer of acknowledgement, acting instead as if he hadn’t heard her at all.
She looked around the hut. Jac supposed with his help she could create some kind of toga out of one of the furs on the bed. It hadn’t worked earlier, but then she wasn’t very handy. Maybe she could always wrap a scarf around her waist to hold the thing in place.
Ares put the brush down and sealed the containers. He walked to the hidden compartment and placed them inside. Before he turned back to Jac, she saw him pull jade colored material from the inside and then close the door. He walked back to her, then held out the cloth.
Jac looked at it and frowned. The color was beautiful, but seemed of little use to her. “What do you want me to do with that?”
“I wish you to wear it.” She stared at the scrap of material, then looked up at Ares. “On what, my head?”
He snorted, his eyes never leaving her face. “’Tis a skirt.”
Jac took it from his hands and examined it. “Where’s the shirt?”
He grinned again.
The skin on the back of her scalp prickled, tightening to the point of pain. She wasn’t part of this tribe. He couldn’t expect her to dress like them. She ran her hand over the skirt and it appeared to change color in the low light of the fire pot.
“No, I mean it.” She tilted her head. “Where’s the rest of the outfit? You can’t expect me to run around half naked like the other women here. I’m not one of them. I believe I’ve made that abundantly clear.”
Ares ignored her claim. “’Tis all you need,” he said. “’Tis all you’ll ever need, in Atlantean society.”
“Yeah, well therein lies the problem.” She moved her hands to her slim hips. “I’m not part of this society. I’m a New Yorker. We don’t wear anything out of season.” Jac shook her head. “Hell, we don’t wear much that isn’t black, so—” She handed the skirt back to Ares. “This isn’t going to work for me.”
He took it, running his palms over the material. It instantly turned black and then handed it back to her.
“Fine. Now if you can produce a top, we’ll be set.”
“No.” He shook his head. “’Tis disrespectful in the eyes of our society.”
Jac’s jaw set. “I’m not going anywhere without a shirt.”
His eyes hardened. “Then you go nowhere.”
By the tone of his voice, Jac could tell Ares wasn’t bluffing. She glanced down at the sheer black skirt in her hands. She didn’t have anything against nudity, per se. Hell, she’d been to nudist beaches before, but this was different. These people were different. They didn’t view toplessness as anything unusual, but she wasn’t Atlantean. The thought of being semi-nude in front of everyone left her feeling at a distinct disadvantage. What if she ran into Coridan? Talk about awkward. And how in the hell was she supposed to kick major ass in a skirt?
Just as quickly as the thought entered her mind, she began to formulate a plan. If Ares was set on her going topless, then she’d make sure he was just as uncomfortable. Jac planted the sweetest smile on her face that she could muster, then slipped the skirt on. She sashayed across the floor, adding a little more swing than her hips naturally had. She turned in time to see Ares’s expression change from stubbornness to hunger.
Oh yeah, this might be fun after all.
“Lead the way, I’ll follow.” She smiled again, looking forward to the torture to come.
Ares led Jac through the jungle, careful not to let her trip on the lianas. She looked particularly seductive with her nipples rouged and her tattoo marking her. She thought it to be temporary, but he knew better.
The gleam in her blue eyes held nothing but mischief. There was no way he could predict her next move, only anticipate it coming. Ares chose not to read her mind, even though he could easily do so. He wanted her to trust him and that wouldn’t happen if he continued to violate her privacy. He blew out a steadying breath, then pushed the last fern aside, so she could step into the compound. Jac hesitated but a moment, then walked on, head held high.
Rachel and Eros sat at the head of the feasting table. The rest of the tribe was seated along the sides. The table was surrounded by lit torches, illuminating the evening meal. They raised their heads when Ares entered the area, but said nothing. Ares did not miss the surprise, lighting their eyes. He led Jac over to the banquet and seated her near Rachel.
“You look fantastic. Is Ares treating you all right?” Rachel leaned forward and asked.
“Thanks, friend. You could have told me I was going to wind up naked, too.” Rachel’s face flushed under Jac’s sarcasm. She bit back a curse. “I’m sorry. I get cranky when I’m kept away from all the action in town, you know that.”
Rachel giggled, then shook her head in understanding.
“What else don’t I know?” she asked.
Rachel suddenly became preoccupied with a nearby tree.
Ares raised a brow at Jac’s question, then looked to Eros. Has Coridan dined tonight?
Nay my friend. Eros answered in the preferred Atlantean method.
Ares scanned the peripheral of the village. There was no sign of Coridan, but that did not mean he would not arrive. For some reason the idea of the young warrior laying eyes upon Jac in her proper attire disturbed him. At the same time, Ares wanted Coridan to see his marks around Jac’s waist…just as long as the young warrior’s gaze didn’t linger too long.
Eros clasped Ares’s forearm. Sit my friend and break bread with us. It does no good to worry about what is not.
Ares gave Eros a curt nod and sat beside Jac. The material of her skirt brushed against his hard thigh, causing every muscle in his body to tense. Even though he’d just had her, Ares had the overwhelming urge to toss her over his shoulder and rush back to his hut where they could be alone, where he wouldn’t have to share her with the tribe or anyone else.
Five large bowls of fruit had been placed along the center of the table, cups, carved from the huingo fruit, containing mango and banana juice had been poured, ready for consumption. Ares snatched a cup, quickly passing it to Jac, then took one for himself. She acknowledged him with a tilt of her head, but kept talking with Rachel. He ignored the need to steal her attention away from the queen.
/>
The hair on Ares’s nape stood on end, the only warning he got of Coridan’s impending approach. The young warrior stepped from the jungle. His eyes sparked blue fire as they landed on Ares, then he noticed Jac. For a moment his corded body tensed, then Coridan strode forward to join the group. His gaze never wavered from Jac’s lithe body.
Ares gripped the edge of the table, every instinct screaming at him to fell his opponent before Coridan had a chance to take his mate. Jac may not consider herself his yet, but in time she would come to accept him—Ares hoped. He watched as Coridan made his way around the table, positioning himself next to Rachel. He dropped to his knees beside the Queen and greeted her in traditional Atlantean fashion, pressing his lips to each of her nipples, before taking a seat.
From the young warrior’s position he had an unimpeded view of Jac’s pert breasts. Her puckered nipples stood out daringly, since Ares had applied the red dye. Ares felt the wood beneath his fingertips begin to splinter. Ares shoved a glass of banana juice toward Coridan, almost upending it in his lap. He caught the cup at the last second, a taunting smile plastered on his golden face.
Ares cursed under his breath and forced his hands to his sides. His knuckles accidentally brushed Jac’s leg, causing her to jump. He didn’t miss her quick intake of breath or the way her pupils dilated in response. The past few days had gone better than he’d expected. They’d grown so attuned to each other’s needs and wants that words were no longer needed.
He had memorized every inch of her pale white skin, long legs, and tantalizing lips. With a scrape here and a nip there Ares knew he could have her coming apart within a matter of minutes. Her responsiveness had been a gift from the great goddess. He could ask for nothing more.
Ares sought out Coridan’s gaze. When he had the young warrior’s attention, his lips curled back into a predatory smile, a subtle warning to let him know, that he would never surrender what was rightfully his. And Jac was his, of that there was no doubt. Coridan didn’t look away, in fact his gaze intensified, sending Ares a direct challenge.
“Come Coridan, eat.” Eros pointed to the food on the table.
“Thank you, my King.” Coridan’s words were clipped, as he reached for some fruit. Despite Ares’s unspoken warning, his aqua gaze strayed back to Jac repeatedly.
Jac was reaching for more bread, when she caught Ares’s black expression. Centered solely on Coridan, his face was a mask of undisguised fury. He was jealous. She shook her head and tucked that bit of information away for later use. His distraction would give her time to ask Rachel a few questions.
“Do you have any idea what the markings around my stomach mean?” Jac whispered.
Rachel chewed on a slice of mango. “I noticed them when you approached, but I’ve never seen tattooing in this tribe.” She glanced around, then leaned closer. “It’s common in other peoples, but not Atlanteans as far as I know.”
Jac frowned. “I tried to smudge one of the symbols with my thumb, but it didn’t budge. I didn’t think henna set so quickly.”
Rachel glanced at the marks. “Did Ares tell you it was henna?”
“No, I just assumed since it didn’t involve needles. What else could it be?” Jac caught Rachel’s worried expression. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“You promise not to get mad?” Rachel asked. She set down her food.
Jac shook her head. “No.”
“Well at least you’re honest.” Rachel took a breath and let it out. “I think the markings are permanent.”
“What do you mean they’re permanent? Are you telling me it’s a tattoo?” Jac’s voice rose, drawing everyone’s attention to her.
Rachel’s eyes widened and she looked around to remind Jac that they weren’t alone.
Jac glared, then gradually subsided. “How can they be permanent? He didn’t use a needle,” she hissed under her breath.
Rachel touched the marks. “Did he burn them into your skin?”
“No, he didn’t—” Jac’s gaze swung around and skewered Ares.
He met her steadily, unfazed by her venom. Instead of guilt, he projected innocence, which she knew was an act.
“Don’t think this is over,” she whispered to him.
The tension at the table was palpable. The meal continued in silence and eventually drew to a close. Someone started a fire that crackled and blazed in the center of the compound. The stars began to poke their twinkling heads out from behind the canopy of trees. Locusts droned and rasped, lending song to the hushed jungle. The Atlanteans broke off into various groups, positioning themselves around the growing flame. They told stories and jokes, like children do when they’re sitting around a campfire.
Jac took in the simplicity of the sight. Something inside her swelled and threatened to burst. She didn’t tend to like anything that brought out sentimentality, but for a few minutes she gave herself permission to just sit back, forget about her anger over being duped by Ares, and enjoy the company.
Besides noting that they were permanent, Rachel had been of little help when it came to explaining the markings. She was surprised to hear that tattoos weren’t common, but that did explain why she’d received so many curious glances. Jac couldn’t imagine how much it was going to cost to get them removed and how much it would hurt. She was going to kick Ares’s tight ass when they got back to the hut.
“I’m the freak in the freak show,” Jac murmured to herself.
She tried to ignore the blatant stares, but it was rather like attempting to ignore a buzzing mosquito in the dead of night. No matter what you did, you still heard them or in this case, saw them. She pulled her skirt up to conceal the marks. Ares had made his way over to Eros’s side. Their heads were together like co-conspirators, planning their next caper. Coridan sat alone, off to the side, away from the group, watching her. Jac glanced over her shoulder to make sure Ares remained engrossed, then made her way over to Coridan.
As Jac approached, he rose to his knees and grabbed her hips. His fingers were light upon her skin, yet his grip was unbreakable. Jac knew what he was about to do, but couldn’t keep her body from flinching under his touch. Coridan’s lips were firm as they latched onto her left nipple. There only should have been kissing, but what he did, went far beyond that. Coridan swirled his tongue around her areola, bringing it to point. His white teeth flashed into a devilish smile the second before he nipped her.
It felt wonderful…and very, very wrong. Jac tried to pull away, but he held fast.
With an unhurried slowness, Coridan moved to her other nipple. He waited for a hairsbreadth, before latching onto the pink bud. Her body responded eagerly, but her mind remained oddly detached. He sucked, teasing and tasting her flesh as if it were his right. The conversations around them died. Jac glanced up in time to see everyone staring at them. She felt heat rise in her face. Her eyes immediately sought Ares. Muscles tense, hands fisted, he glared at her, fire shooting from his emerald eyes, singeing her to her toes. There was no mistaking the anger or the pain in his gaze.
“Coridan, stop.” Jac swayed toward him.
“Come lay with me. I can make you forget him,” he murmured against her skin. “You do not have to return with Ares, if you do not wish it.”
“I said stop,” she said, trying to pull his head back.
Coridan slowly released her, then pulled Jac to the ground, until she sat beside him. She watched as Eros placed a hand on Ares’s shoulder, preventing him from joining them. Jac let out an uneasy breath.
“That was quite a show you just put on,” she said. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I acted within my rights,” said Coridan, glaring at Ares. “He shouldn’t be allowed to keep you in his hut when there is a challenge taking place.”
“Ariel said—”
“I don’t care what Ariel said. She should mind her own business,” he spat.
His vehemence was unexpected. “Perhaps, but you went out of your way to piss him off,” Jac said.
Coridan looked at her. “I thought this was part of our plan,” he said.
“It was. It is, but I told you from the beginning that I didn’t want to see him hurt.”
“Ares is a warrior. He’s used to pain,” he snapped. “He will be fine. Now it’s time to let him know that he has no claim to you.”
Coridan was right. She belonged to no man. Ares had messed her head up so bad that she’d forgotten why she’d come down here in the first place. The sooner he realized that he didn’t own her, the easier it would be to walk away for them both.
“Okay,” she said.
He put his arm around her and pulled her close. Subtlety wasn’t his strong suit.
“So,” Jac said, trying not to show her discomfort. “How goes the challenge?”
His lips thinned, but he managed a smile before answering. “As you know, I won the gold test. Unfortunately, the anaconda Ares took down was larger than the one I presented, so we are now tied. But I’m sure I can best him tomorrow,” he added with newfound determination in his voice.
“I’m sure you will.” Jac patted his hand as if here were a child. She blinked when she realized that at some point she’d begun to view him as such.
Ares was so confident in his abilities that he didn’t need to boast. One side of her would love to see her phantom deflated, but the other, well the other was beginning to get used to those flashing green eyes and that great big muscled body of his lying beneath her after hours of lovemaking.
There was that word again—love. Jac had never believed it possible before, because she’d never experienced anything close to that emotion with the men she’d dated. Yet she found it popping up regularly, just like thoughts of Ares.
Of its own volition her gaze sought his. He stood across the compound like a proud warrior. His body looked relaxed, despite the earlier tension. Maybe his feelings were waning. The thought struck, winding her. Jac wasn’t sure what she’d do if that were the case. You’d move on like you always do, a little voice in her head whispered. But it was wrong this time. She could feel it in her bones. There would be no moving on after Ares.
Atlantean's Quest Volume 1 Page 34
