As Long As

by Jackie Ivie

Sokar lifted his head, narrowed his eyes, and fought against lunging for her; ripping the satin from her body; discovering every inch of her with his hands, his mouth, and his body. He tightened his muscles further. And still the force within him flexed. Flickers of fire-like pain hit his thighs. Arms. Buttocks. The fabric lining of his suit coat ripped. The bed rocked beneath them.

  “Yes?”

  He croaked out the word. Even to him it sounded brutal. Desperate. On the verge of hopelessness. It was the best he could manage. He was amazed his throat worked.

  “I can’t see.”

  His head shot up. He pierced her with his gaze. He had no trouble seeing. And evaluating. What had happened to his thrall over her? Had it worn off? Already? That didn’t seem possible. And yet...the answer was in front of him. She was definitely aware, her dark eyes intent and focused. She didn’t look afraid. Nor, did she sound it. His heart hammered throughout his chest in large painful beats.

  “You wish...to see?”

  The words were garbled. She nodded. And then she licked her lips.

  Isis be praised!

  Sokar lunged upward. His head smacked the ceiling with a crunch, loosening tiles. He dropped back down. The mattress jumped. The platform creaked ominously. He lunged for a bedside lamp, connecting with the base with his forefinger. Thank Heka any damage to the electrical wiring hadn’t reached here. He sent a burst of energy through his finger. It was a learned bit of magic. There had been a time when he’d filled every waking moment with a search for knowledge. Back when that had helped. He’d been able to spark things to life many times. This was the first time it sent a sharp tingle shooting through his arm. That was a new experience. Not entirely pleasant, but he didn’t much care. It worked. The lamp immediately came to life, sending a mellow glow onto the bed surface...and his mate. The folds of her gown shimmered like pearls. And then his gaze reached her cleavage. Her throat.

  Sokar heaved toward her, barely catching the motion to stab into her skin. He pulled back again. Went onto his knees again. Locked his hands in place across his chest, just like before. And then he pushed in until it hurt, certain to leave bruises.

  She was so beautiful! So precious! So—!

  He shook violently. His entire frame on edge. Hovering. Wary of even glancing toward her. This sensation was worse than any electrocution. And so much better.

  “You all right?”

  He shrugged. Something in his attire tore again, the sound loud.

  “That looks like a very expensive suit.”

  “What?”

  He managed a one word answer. The word was guttural. Rough-edged. Pained. His fangs dug into his lower lip. The taste of blood filled his mouth. Blurred his vision. Rocked him backward before he snapped back upright. And then she was in front of him, a hand beneath his chin as she forced him to face her. He touched his glance on hers, and swiftly skittered it away. Toward anything. The lamp. The pile of bedding. A whoosh of sound hit his ears, drowning out most of her words. He barely heard the last portion.

  “...replace it.”

  She wasn’t afraid?

  She answered as if he’d actually asked it. “Not remotely. Intrigued, yes. Frightened? Not for a moment.”

  Sokar jerked his head back, yet hesitated before moving his gaze to hers. She had such amazing eyes. Deep. Mysterious. They filled his vision. Looming large. All-encompassing...and everything stopped. Sound ceased. His breath halted. His heart seized up within his chest. For a brief span, he thought he might be finding out what it felt like to actually die.

  And then she reached for the top button on his jacket.

  An infusion of bass notes filled the chamber, reverberating off the walls with a bestial throb. Sokar didn’t know its origin until it tore his throat, and he didn’t care. He snatched her to him, and slammed his lips to hers. She lost her grip on his clothing. Her fingers moved instead up his chest, about his shoulders, and into the hair behind his ears. She held to him as they kissed. Sucked. Licked.

  And he needed more.

  So much more.

  He couldn’t seem to get enough. She tasted wondrous. Her blood became a succulent meal from which he feasted. She was matching him, her continual moans creating a deep well of sound about them. Contact sent fire. Even through clothing. It burned and then it branded, as though marking him. For all time. As if he’d existed all these years for but one thing: this.

  He moved his kiss from her mouth. Trailed his lips to her chin. Down her throat. His tongue slid along the vein there, skimming over the dual puncture wounds he’d made before. He daren’t drain any more. Not yet. Not until she knew what it meant. But oh! It was so tempting. So exquisitely...torturous. He grabbed the back of her gown and pulled outward, shredding fabric, and—

  She didn’t wear anything beneath her gown!

  His hands shook as he caressed her nakedness. Learning. Experiencing. Sense of smell bombarded him. Touch was right behind it. He inhaled deeply, filling his newly awakened lungs with his mate’s essence. Her scent exuded warmed spices, a hint of frankincense, sandalwood...an undertone of musk. Her skin was as pure and smooth as carved alabaster. Her skin was a realm of wonder, the spot where her spine curved into her buttocks a place of mystery and delight. She was so youthful. Strong. Nubile.

  And experienced.

  She’d unfastened his coat. He didn’t know how. Or when. It was enough that she undressed him, pushing the garment from his shoulders and down his arms. She was stopped by his elbows unless he released her. He clutched her close with his left arm in order to release his right. Repeated the move for the other sleeve. She pulled his coat off and tossed it somewhere, despite how his hand explored her, scooping up one of her buttocks. Ah. His mate was perfection itself. Lush. Womanly. Her fingers fussed with his tie. Unfastened it, and then unwound it from about his neck, her movement swift. Efficient. Without a hint of hesitation, or even the shakiness that plagued him.

  Sokar’s shirt had been tailored to his exact measurements. It had been a perfect fit. Now it restricted. Clung. Made it difficult to grab each breath without ripping a seam. Geena’s fingers trailed down the hidden button placket. Without even bothering to look.

  She certainly knew her way around a man’s attire.

  That should bother him.

  No. It should anger.

  Enrage.

  Sokar sucked on a canine, aware that her lack of innocence did the opposite. Her knowledge emboldened and enervated and excited. He needn’t concern himself with hurting her. All he needed to worry over was satisfaction. And...by Horus! She knew how to do that as well!

  She’d plucked his belt open, unlatched his waistband, and delved downward. Her move shocked him into complete stillness as she found him. Hefted. Her fingers tried to encircle. He sucked in a breath. His belly jerked back from her searching fingers. She looked up at him, a stunned look on her features. And then she smiled. Her expression sent a burst of warmth through him. He nearly preened. But she needn’t be so surprised. It stood to reason. Sokar was an extremely large man. Everywhere.

  “Oh, Sokar. Oh, my. Oh. Oh!”

  She shoved his pants down. His briefs followed. And then she had both hands wrapped about him, delivering eons of pleasure with her touch. Endless amounts. Beyond imagining. Sokar began vibrating with an excruciating amount of pleasure. The bed became an extension of it. The platform beneath the mattress creaked in concert.

  She increased her strokes, delivering even more sensation. More energy. More vitality. Each move hastening him to paradise. The remnants of her gown drooped forward, alternately revealing and then concealing with her motions. The sensations she created were unbelievable. Vivid. Thrilling.

  And wrong.

  As if this was the extent of what he wanted with her. His pleasure. Not hers.

  Sokar caught her wrists, stopping her. And for some reason, it felt like she debated something...like fighting him. Then, she looked up. Caught her lower lip between her teeth. And smiled.

&
nbsp; That small gesture was the equivalent of an arrow being sprung from a bowstring. Sokar grabbed her and dove forward. And down. Her back hit the sheet. His weight followed. He brushed the remnants of her gown aside, slid his hands along her thighs. Separating them. Positioning.

  But it was her movement that joined them.

  She’d gained strength and agility by sharing blood. He hadn’t expected that. Her body writhed wildly against him. She grabbed and held. Sleekly muscled legs encircled his hips. And then she lunged upward, taking all of him with the first thrust. Sokar’s jaw dropped. His head went back. And he yelled. Something in the room broke. Several things fell.

  Sokar smacked both hands to the linen-covered surface beside her and started pumping. He’d never felt such heat. Such suction. So much moisture. Such extreme pleasure. Shu, the god of air, controlled breathing. The goddess Tefnut granted them her moisture for lubrication. Geena’s moans filled his ears. The beauty of her body encompassed his vision. He rammed in harder. Each one a little faster. Deeper.

  And he wanted more.

  So much more.

  Geena’s cries of satiation added to the pleasure. A sensation of something sparked to life deep within him. Something wondrous. Solid. He felt it enlarging in a series of waves. Sokar’s back muscles clenched tight. His arms and shoulders joined in. His chest. Belly. Her hands caressed the musculature there. And he couldn’t move his eyes. She was such a vision. A wonder. An amazement.

  His mate.

  Sokar’s thrusts increased, gaining even more power. The bed swayed in rhythm, while the base creaked and groaned. And then the platform failed. The sound of splintering wood might have been loud. He didn’t notice. The center of the mattress dropped, the sides bowed, creating a well of wonder. Surrounding them. Enveloping....as if Geb, the god of earth, knew how much this meant and had decided to assist.

  Geena gave another long cry, this one interspersed with a scream. The ball of pressure increased, grabbing at his buttocks before leaching into his groin. From there it ballooned. Furiously pounding. Fiery hot. Iron hard.

  And Sokar exploded.

  He roared in seeming agony. The world about them ruptured. All sorts of objects in the room beyond them shattered and fell. He didn’t notice. His spirit was soaring. Nut, the goddess of the sky, welcomed him into her realm. Millennia of time ceased to be of any importance. The years were relegated to nothingness. The only thing with meaning was his mate. The woman in his arms. Cleaving to him. She was there as the pleasure altered, turning into radiant pulses of bliss. Her dark brown eyes were large. Deep. Luminous as if she wept.

  And he nearly joined her.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Come, habibi. It is time.”

  At the words, Geena’s was instantly awake, on her feet, and winding the top sheet about her. She hadn’t checked specifics. She’d just grabbed the first thing in reach. This was appalling. She’d slept? No. It wasn’t possible. She should be miles away by now. Safe. Secure.

  Alone.

  She finished with the sheet, tucked the material’s end beneath her arm, and took a deep breath. She had to continually sway to stay upright. That’s what came of standing on a broken, bowed mattress with bare feet. It wasn’t weakness. Nor was it fear. She hoped he didn’t assign either of those causes to her apparent clumsiness. Wow. She was at a distinct disadvantage here. She was near-naked. Dwarfed. And probably resembled a female awakened after a hearty lovemaking session. She didn’t look like a trained and worthy opponent. Her up-do had failed, too. Her hair was mid-back length, and at the moment, a mass of tangles. She shoved it over her shoulders and looked over and up at Sokar. The man was monstrously handsome. Elegantly attired. Watching her with those incredibly-hued eyes. Aside from the tie ends dangling from his neck and his open coat, he didn’t appear to have suffered any effects from their interlude.

  “Time for what?” she finally replied.

  “Our flight.”

  “Look. Sokar. We never finalized plans for that.”

  “I did. And now—”

  “What?”

  He finished as if she hadn’t interrupted him, “...I am debating options.”

  “Oh really? I’ll give you some options. How about you leave? We make plans to meet about noon...maybe for brunch here at the hotel. And we work from there. How about that?”

  He shook his head.

  “No? What do you mean no?”

  “Geena. Habibi, please. I am sorry I cannot let you rest longer, but I have given instructions to my pilot. Even now, he awaits our arrival.”

  “Well. He can just un-wait it, then. I’m not going anywhere. Oh. And add in that I’m not ‘your love’, either.”

  The sides of his mouth twitched. Geena focused on it. And if he dared smile, she was really going to get annoyed.

  “You are very argumentative.”

  “And you are very chauvinistic.” Geena folded her arms. “So, now that we’ve traded insults, how about you listen this time? Good-bye, Sokar. Thank you for the...um, yeah. That.” Damn everything. She was blushing. He was looking amused. She continued, as if none of that mattered. “You know what? Forget brunch. I think you need to leave now. Take your ushabti with you. There are other dealers and lots more artifacts. It’s late. And I’m tired.”

  He smiled. Geena narrowed her eyes, and rued the impulse that made her wind the sheet so tightly about her lower limbs. She could hardly launch a kick with her legs bound.

  “You are about to become a missing persons case, Geena Bauman – if you even registered at this hotel under your real name. The other possibility is that you will be a possible kidnap victim. The last choice is a bit unbelievable. Your disappearance might be considered abduction by unknown forces....like aliens. I trust you’ll forgive any inattention while I weigh the benefits of each.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “If I allow you to take all your belongings, you would be considered missing—”

  “Allow? Did I hear that right? You did not just say that, Sokar. Not even you would actually say...no. You didn’t. Allow?”

  He needed a course on women. Her voice had risen and he acted like it was nothing. He just continued listing options. “But if you dress and take your official papers, it should be assumed that you were kidnapped.”

  “Look. Big guy. Just because we had sex does not mean anything. Okay?”

  He lowered his head and did the growling sound again. The tone was low. Ominous. Threatening. It sent a wave of something physical pulsing through the suite, rattling all sorts of items. It emitted some weird vibes, too...all of which was patently ridiculous. Even if the guy reeked of male domination and control, he couldn’t send invisible messages that broadcast it. Shivers rippled along her skin, lifting little bumps in its path. This was amazing. Enjoyable. But terrible. She could only hope he didn’t spot her reaction. She had to say something.

  Anything.

  “Are you saying something with that growl?”

  “I will not have an argument over semantics with you.”

  “Oh, you won’t? Says who?”

  “Nor will I allow you to denigrate the most wonderful experience of my entire existence. But the longer you argue, the easier my choice becomes.”

  Oh. Heavens. He stole her wits with his confession, and then said something chauvinistic again. The man really needed a course on male-female relationships. Her emotions felt like they were getting all twisted and confused. Her voice probably projected it.

  “Look. Sokar? Um. What happened was just—. It was...um...” This was harder than she expected. Mainly because his eyes started to glow again. The last word was whispered and it limped out without much conviction, “...sex.”

  “Very well. Alien abduction, it is.”

  He launched at her, grabbed her with one arm, and zoomed out into the main room.

  Without once touching any of the floor.

  Geena gasped. And then clung. She wrapped her arms tightly about his chest as he moved
, swooping to snag the bundled ushabti. He cradled it at his lower belly propped against her arm. And then he flew through what should have been closed glass doors – if she’d been thinking and acting remotely normal last night – and went right over the balcony edge.

  Into thin air.

  Geena slammed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to see the end coming. Heated wind lifted her hair, rippling through the sheet about her. The ends of his suit coat slapped against her. Her grip subconsciously tightened. She even got a leg free, and wound it about one of his. Her heart was acting like an enraged beast, pounding at its cage with painful thuds. Each breath took immense effort and was gained with a lot of shaking. Then, they were shallow bits of air. Quickly drawn. Just as quickly exhaled.

  He started whispering in her ear. The sound was soft. Serene. As if he hadn’t just leapt to his death and taken her with him.

  “Geena-nefer. Habibi. You will come to no harm. Trust me.”

  She cracked one eye open. Then the other. He looked exactly as he’d sounded. Perfectly calm. Unruffled. And that’s when it hit her. They weren’t falling. A quick glance downward showed the lights of Cairo to their left, while the world-famous landmarks of the Giza plateau grew smaller and smaller.

  “Sokar?”

  “Yes?” He was smiling. And then he winked.

  “You’re flying!” Her shaking intensified. Her grip increased. She was very near to bursting into tears.

  “Not really.”

  “Not...really?” Shaking made the words quake. Her teeth chattered.

  “It’s more of a...very long freefall. Ah. There is the plane. Hold on, darling.”

  Hold on? Was he kidding? She was gripped to him like a suction cup on glass. Her arm at his back was hooked around his neck. The front one hugged his torso. Still, she screamed when he bent forward and dove. The descent was too fast. At too steep an angle. Headfirst. Geena had heard of people dying of fright. She’d never believed it possible.

  Until now.

  She was probably hyper-ventilating before he went vertical again, bent his knees, and simply stopped. There wasn’t a jolt. There wasn’t even a nudge. She didn’t shift from her death grip, however, although her muscles were burning with the effort.