by Linda Wright
“Sounds creepy.”
“You’re better off without him, babe.”
“Thanks again. I need to go and leave a message for Mister Vane.”
“Be careful.”
“Won’t he be asleep?”
“He will, but his entourage won’t. The two big guys can be verrry pushy.”
“I’ll be careful. Thanks.” They’d reached Gull’s Tones, and the four began to board. Amari waved and walked toward what was arguably the largest yacht she’d ever seen. As she got closer, Dem became Demet, then Demeter. The boarding plank, with its looping chains supported on narrow poles, was in the raised position, hovering six feet above the pier. It rose and fell with the waves, nodding no more than six inches up and down.
“So much for sneaking aboard…” A gymnast might have been able to leap for the end, and haul herself up, but Amari wasn’t much of a gym bunny. “Damn.” But at least I found it. She turned away, but she’d only taken a single step, when a woman’s voice rang out.
“Amari, how wonderful to see you again.”
She turned, to see a figure waving from the upper deck, some thirty feet in the air. Little more than a dark silhouette against the sky, the woman boasted an enviable hour-glass figure, and long, flowing hair.
“Won’t you come aboard?”
“I… maybe later.” When I have cops, and maybe a SWAT team behind me.
“Amari… come… aboard.” At the sound of her low tone, Amari stiffened. Her legs twitched, her muscles shifting her feet toward the huge yacht. “Amari… I insist,” the woman growled.
Amari complied.
She had no choice.
~
A brief dizziness swept over her as she stepped onto the lowered gangplank, as if her mind was warring with the woman’s command. But she pushed through, and walked the ten feet over the gently lapping waves until she stood, once again, on the deck she’d somehow forgotten all about. Buried memories surfaced as fragments, reminding her of delights and laughter and joy. Why hadn’t she remembered this earlier? Why had she waited so long to return?
“Because you were instructed not to,” the woman supplied, sashaying toward the confused Amari. “And yet, here you are, the only one of our delights to return to us.” Clad in a white bikini, she walked slowly around Amari, trailing fingertips along exposed collarbones, across bare back. “I’m delighted to see you again, and yet I’m troubled.”
“Troubled?” Amari echoed. How could trouble even exist in a world where Demeter provided everything a woman could ever need?
“Your return should not have been possible.” She stood in front of Amari, radiant and beautiful, a woman in her thirties. Raven-black hair hung to her waist, and her skin was flawless. Absolutely flawless.
“I wanted to return,” Amari explained.
“For what purpose?” Coal-black eyes peered closely.
“I… wanted to…” Amari frowned. “I needed…”
“Yes?” The woman wore an amused frown, as if amnesia was a regular occurrence on the boat.
Amari straightened, finally locating the stray notion she’d sought. “I needed more.”
“Bravissimo!” She tapped her flattened hands together in front of her face.
Amari grinned with relief. She’d harbored a concern that the woman might dismiss her simple explanation and throw her off the ship, or boat, or whatever it was. A huge man appeared behind the dark-haired woman.
“Tell Vane that one has returned,” she said without turning.
“The master will not wish his sleep to be interrupted.”
“This is important enough to wake him for.” She half-turned her head, but kept her eyes on Amari.
“As you wish.” The big man melted silently into the shadows.
“Perhaps, Amari…” The woman’s voice was silky and seductive, even to Amari. “… you would like to become reacquainted with Vane?”
“I wish I could remember him…” Amari said wistfully.
“You will, my child. You will.” She reached for Amari’s hand. Her fingers were warm, sending a delightful shiver through Amari’s body. Delicious memories teased her mind, stirring heat between her legs.
“You are already enjoying your return?” The woman quirked an eyebrow. Amari didn’t care that her feelings were so transparent. Warm fingers stroked her wrist and she walked into the shadows, entering a cabin which promised exquisite pleasures. Her body thrilled as fragments of sensory delight returned. Warm, perspiring skin against hers, the taste and smell of ejected fluids, both male and female. Sounds of overwhelming passion teased her ears, warming her crotch.
What happened in here last night? Despite being devoid of sunlight, the room was warmly lit with old-fashioned lamps, whose bulbs flickered to mimic candlelight.
“You have been returned to us, as have your memories. In a moment, all will be remembered.”
“It’s starting to come back. I can remember… being naked?” The idea didn’t trouble her. If the woman—whose name was Estelle—had asked her to strip right then, she would have happily peeled off the Erdem dress for her.
“We were both naked.” She pulled down a bikini strap, then another. “Would you like to see?”
“I’d prefer to wait for the guys—if you don’t mind.”
“Still…” Estelle shrugged, but didn’t fix her straps. She seemed to be in no hurry. As Amari stood in the center of the room, Estelle circled her, trailing soft fingertips across Amari’s skin. And with each circuit, one of the Erdem straps slid down her arms, until only the tight bodice held the dress in place. Estelle’s fingers toyed with the zipper, drawing it down an inch at a time. By the time Vane appeared in the doorway, Amari’s dress was fully unzipped. Somewhere along the way, Estelle had become topless. Vane leaned casually against the doorframe, wearing only a robe tied loosely at the waist. Amari’s memories flooded back. Vane had pleasured her in ways no man ever had. Exactly how, she still didn’t remember, but she remembered it as intense.
“So it’s true, you’ve returned to us.”
“Everybody keeps saying that as if it’s some kind of miracle.”
“Something akin to a miracle, yes.”
“You see, darling, you’re the first one in a hundred… sixteen years?” Vane nodded. “No-one in that time has ever broken the compulsion.”
“What compulsion?”
“Not to return to us. You see…” Estelle peeled the dress away from Amari’s body, leaving her topless. “…we prefer fresh blood, the fresher the better.”
“Every woman has visited but once.”
“Only once?”
Vane nodded. “We prefer it that way.”
Something prompted Amari to ask a question. “You’ve been doing this for over a hundred years?”
“Over three hundred for me,” Vane said with a smile.
“And what happened the last time someone came back, a hundred sixteen years ago?”
“Why…” Estelle kissed Amari’s neck. “She stayed, never to leave.”
“You?” Amari asked. “You’re the one?”
“My need was so strong, I was unable to leave.”
“They wouldn’t let you?” Doubt crept into Amari’s voice.
“I didn’t want to. I never do.”
“And what will happen to me?”
“That…” Vane said. “ …is entirely in your hands.”
“If I do leave, will you make me forget?”
“If you step off the Demeter, you will forget. It is our way.”
“But I’ll still want to come back?”
“If you returned to us once, you will be drawn irrevocably to us.”
“I remember bits of last night.”
“That is natural. The Demeter holds your memories, and returns them to you.”
“The ship remembers what happened?” Amari stared. Vane shrugged, as if such a phenomenon was normal.
“Do you remember good things?” Estelle asked silkily.
&n
bsp; “Only good things.” Amari smiled. She pushed down the dress, revealing her lacy panties.
“This was worth getting up for.” Vane moved into the room, smiling. As artificial candlelight touched his face, Amari frowned. His face was familiar. She’d seen him somewhere before… before she’d stepped onto the ship.
“Let the memories return,” Vane said. Estelle massaged Amari’s shoulders patiently, encouraging the doctor to relax.
“You look like the old man who brought me from La Casa,” she said at last.
“And thanks to you, I am no longer he.” Vane spread his hands.
“You’re him? But younger?”
“Precisely.”
“But how is that possible?”
“Your medicine would refute such a miracle of old magic, but the evidence stands before you.”
“If you wish, Vane would be happy to remind you.” Estelle’s lips were soft against Amari’s neck and cheek. Her hands roamed over bared breasts, teasing Amari’s nipples to hardness. She offered no protest. Such intimacy was inoffensive. Vane’s robe fell open, to reveal his swollen member. Estelle purred at the sight, and reached for him. Her fingers closed around the shaft, concealing less than half. When she squeezed, he hissed, and a deeper color filled the head. Amari shivered at the memory of that cock, of its insistent invasion into her intimate flesh. Heat warmed her crotch.
Vane, his handsome and youthful face impossibly restored from old age, reached for her, embracing her and trapping Estelle’s hand against her belly. When he raised an eyebrow, she withdrew, sliding her hand around Amari’s waist, as if claiming her for later. Vane’s lips touched Amari’s, his mouth already opening. His tongue sought hers, swirling, flicking, teasing. She sighed and melted into his arms. His firm hands caressed her back. Softer hands sought her buttocks, lifting and squeezing.
As Amari sank deeper into the sweetness of lust, a vague memory drifted through the periphery of her mind, something involving a task she had yet to fulfil. A responsibility toward others. But the notion faded, swept away by an overwhelming sensual whirlwind, exactly as it had before. All thoughts of patients, unsolved mysteries and Paul Siddig faded from her head as Vane’s naked body pressed against hers, his erection primed and ready to deliver pleasure unimagined.
~
Even as he made love to her, Amari’s awareness became disjointed. Part of her mind questioned the sequence of events; another part threw all cares aside and sang with joy as her body thrilled. The kisses were endless, but varied, sometimes soft and tender, and other times firm and hungry. An eager tongue lapped at her neatly-trimmed pussy, pressing against the entirety of her sex and drawing upwards, spreading her slippery wetness wide. She reached for the scalp of the person who pleasured her, but her wrists were guided onto other bodies, to squeeze hard shafts and stroke soft, hairless skin which was definitely not male. Mouths pleasured both nipples, even as the tongue probed her tight, eager passage.
And the kissing continued, as if suitors both male and female were queuing to taste her body. Her head spun with the intensity of it all, and she writhed on the bed Vane had carried her to, groaning and gasping as she was raised to a plateau of pleasure and held there, edging along the precipice of her orgasm, but never being allowed to fall. Over and over she begged for release, and the expert tongue changed tack, edging her closer to her desire. But when her cries rose, the tongue withdrew, and fingers slid inside her, changing the pattern entirely. One type of orgasm receded, but a new wave carried her high and she begged for fulfilment. The fingers curled expertly, stroking her intimately until her fingers and toes curled painfully, and her back arched clear of the bed.
And then a body pressed down upon hers. Firm flesh slid across her slippery wetness, seeking entry. Her ankles were guided into the air by insistent hands, and her lover slid inside, filling her with a single, slow stroke, pushing deep until she wailed and wept with happiness.
His strokes were long and deep, pressing against her deepest pleasure centers in a way no man ever had. She wanted to wrap her arms around her lover’s body, to cling to him, but her arms were spread wide, her wrists held firmly but gently across the width of the bed. She opened a heavy eye to see a woman pressing her lips against Amari’s forearm on one side, and the huge man who had summoned Vane sucking her wrist on the other side. Her brief concern was washed away as Vane’s thrusts changed, becoming quicker and more urgent.
Amari cried out her love for him, and begged him to never stop.
“You would give yourself to me for all eternity?”
“Yes, my god, yes! I love you, Vane. I love the way you make me feel. I want to be in your arms forever.”
“Then you may return to me whenever you wish, my dear.” He pressed his lips to her neck and pushed deep inside her. Real tears flowed from her eyes as his body hammered against hers, shaking her breasts and driving deep, satisfied grunts from her chest. His orgasm, when it presented itself, flooded her with liquid warmth, finally pushing her over the edge of the precipice, to finally grant her release. She whimpered and howled, cursed and swore her eternal love, then arched so hard, he almost threw him off. Her wrists were finally released and she clung to Vane, dragging her nails across his hard back until he hissed.
As her orgasm subsided, leaving her weak and breathless, she feared the bliss might end, but as Vane withdrew his still-hard erection, firm hands rolled her over, then urged her onto all fours. Immediately, she was filled again, but whether it was Vane, or another man, she had no idea. A hard body slapped against her buttocks, and she was stretched by a thick shaft, forcing broken howls from her chest with every stroke. Soft lips pressed against her mouth, muffling her cries momentarily, but a crushing orgasm dropped her head and shoulders to the bed, where her fingers clawed at the covers, desperate to drag her body away from the overwhelming assault on her loins.
Time lost all meaning for Amari. She swam in an ocean of bliss, her body alternately singing with joy, and crying for mercy. Her skin was slick with a mix of perspiration and body fluids. Kisses rained endlessly onto her mouth; every erogenous zone was attended by hands and soft lips. Vane, or one of his companions, made love to her, then repositioned her and made love again, endlessly penetrating her until she imagined her body could accept no more. But each time she was moved, her eagerness was renewed, and pleasure resumed.
Fluids spilt from her passage, a mixture of her own lubrication and male fulfilment. She was surprised when mouths descended regularly to clean her, before moving aside so the process of insemination could be repeated.
~
At last, the moment arrived when she was able to lie back and breathe normally, without anyone on top of her, or inside her. She await fresh kisses, or exploring tongues, but none came. Her hands reached out for the naked flesh of her companions, but she found the bed empty and cold. Dismayed, she opened her eyes, expecting the flickering light of fake candles, but the dazzle of sterile whiteness stung her eyes. She sat up, instantly recognizing the paraphernalia of a hospital ward.
“What in god’s name?” Clad in a hospital gown, wires trailed from her chest, connected to stark white machines that drew jagged lines across dark screens. A pulse clip was heavy on her fingertip. She pulled it off, and a machine shrieked, bringing a wide-eyed nurse running.
“Now, why did you go and do something like that?” she asked in an Irish lilt.
“Nurse…” Amari grabbed her wrist. “Why am I in here?”
“Well, see, that’s what happens when you’re found wandering the streets on your own. Missing three days, so I’m told.”
“Missing?”
“That’s what they told me. Been sparked out cold since Wednesday, so you have. Must have needed your rest. What was it? Big party?”
Amari frowned. “I don’t do parties. Never have…” Where had she been? Why had she been found wandering alone?
“Did you say three days?”
“Missing since Monday, I’m told.”
“Patient four…”
“What was that?”
“Uh… nothing, nothing. I’m trying to remember.”
“Well, when you do, see that you tell our doctor. He’d love to know where you got those scars.”
“Scars…” Amari glanced down at her wrist. Two scars, four or five inches apart glowed red.
And then there’s the other ones.”
“Other ones?”
“The ones on your other arm.” The nurse tapped Amari’s left arm. Two more scars, only three inches apart, marked her left wrist.
“More scars…”
“Whatever it is, you might have to give it up. Those are going to leave a mark.”
“Where did they come from?” Absently, Amari’s fingers sought the scratch on the back of her upper arm. It was slight, but she could still feel it. When she checked her other arm, there was no scratch.
“Of course. There wouldn’t be…” she said, then stopped. What was she talking about? Where had the scratch come from, and why was she expecting to find another?
“I’m confused.”
“So was the poor guy who’s been visiting.”
“What guy?” Faces swam past her mind’s eye, elusive faces she couldn’t focus on.
“Another doctor. Works right here in the hospital. Nice looking fella.”
“Paul?” She threw the covers aside. “I need to see him!” The moment her feet hit the floor, her knees buckled and her head spun.
“Now, now. No sense getting yourself worked up.” The nurse helped Amari back into bed. “He left me a number, in case you woke up. Do you want me to call him?”
“Yes, yes. Please call him. He might be able to tell me what happened.”
“As long as you promise to stay put.”
“I promise. If I tried to move, I’d probably fall flat on my face.”
~
Paul was at her side in five minutes. She grabbed his hand and smiled up at him. He frowned at her eager fingers, but didn’t withdraw his hand.
“Do you remember anything that happened to you?” he asked.
“The last thing I remember clearly was the coffee shop.”
